Shattered Dreams

Shattered Dreams

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I feel his gaze on me as I walk over to the chair where my dress is resting. As I pull his shirt over my head, his eyes travel down my naked body before I cover it by slipping on my dress. When I turn around and meet his eyes, the intensity in them throws me off and I find myself staring back at him with the same intensity. He slowly walks up to me, leans down close to my ear and in a husky voice, he asks, "Are you trying to get fucked?" My breath hitches and I reply breathlessly, "It's not like it's your first time seeing me." ____________________________________________________________________ Cynthea Romero, a first year university student, had her entire life planned out. Along with a few design courses, she would finish her business program at Columbia and hopefully start her own fashion line within a couple years of graduating. Well, that was her plan until her best friend died in a car crash and her life took an unexpected turn. During the days after the tragedy, Cynthea finds herself drifting away from the people she cares about the most and closer to an empathetic stranger. She believes that he's helping her slowly heal from the accident but little does she know that he's just creating a scar that will never stop bleeding.
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I take another gulp of my crown and coke trying to forget the last few hours of work. I'm at the lowest I've ever been in my life. I've always been responsible but for once I don't care and just needed a break so I found myself here at this bar in the not so good part of town. I wanted a place where no one would recognize me and I found it. I take another gulp and finish my drink. "Mind if I sit?" I hear him say. His voice is smooth but masculine. I know his type before I even turn to see him. I signal the bartender for another one ignoring him. I hear his foot steps retreat and I'm a little surprised. I thought he'd put more effort like the last few guys before him but I guess not. The bartender brings me another and I look up, my curiosity getting the best of me. Damn, he's sex in a suit. I take a big drink to calm my nerves, feeling the effects of the liquor. He sat two stools away and is ordering for himself. I scan his body. He's got a tattoo peaking out of his collar and he's dressed in a three piece suit and tie, all black. Screw it, I think and walk over careful not to lose my balance. After a few drinks it's harder than I thought and I almost trip. The alcohol in me is making me brave so I keep going. He looks like a dark Angel or is he the Devil in disguise I wonder? I don't know but he picked the right night, because I just found my release. Hope you're intrigued, keep reading!

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