1. We're Both High

De Grande nightclub was one of the elite's nocturnal hangout. It had hosted several of the city's big names and many more touring from other parts of the country. But it also boasted of having members from other respectable economic and social classes. It was fair for all. 

It was at it's dark rosewood-top bar that a young redheaded lady was sitting, nursing her third glass of tequila in her slender fingers. She knew she was going to get drunk but, unfortunately, she had reached and passed the point of caring. The strong need to unwind after the stress from work kept her going on. 

At a VIP booth far opposite the bar a guy stared intently at the lady. He'd noticed she came to the nightclub most nights, never with a partner and her ring finger was empty so he assumed she was single. Something about her intrigued him the way a girl had never before, she always looked so vulnerable and beautiful in a classic sense that called to something deep inside him - something that he refused to acknowledge, he just couldn't help being drawn to her. 

He was still staring intently at her when a waitress came over to him with a tray. Reluctantly, he diverted his gaze to the staff. The waitress turned pink at this and batted her eyelashes. 

'Boss said to ask if you needed another drink, Mr Chevrolet,' she said. 

He took another look at her and let his eyes travel down her, slowly. He grinned, bad thing his mind was on the lady at the bar. And she wasn't even half as pretty as the redhead. 

'M—Mr Chevrolet?' the waitress stammered. 

'I'll go get one at the bar,' he said suddenly, then rolled his chair out and made his way to the bar. 

The waitress, Cheri, looked very confused and scared. What had she said wrong? She would be neck-deep in trouble if the boss saw this, after all Mr Chevrolet was a powerful business tycoon and they couldn't bear to lose him. 

Meanwhile Chevrolet got to the bar and slid in beside the lady. The latter threw him a cursory glance and was already turning back to her drink with a disinterested look when she suddenly swung her head back at him. She blinked once, twice, thrice. 

She'd be damned if it wasn't Channing Chevrolet, the number one business tycoon, owner of C.C hotel, C.C vineyards, C.C architectural firm and many other powerful companies she didn't know of! She'd actually noticed him many times at the club but had never dreamt she'd see him up-close-and-personal. If not for her alcohol-flushed face he'd have known she'd gone redder at the sight of him. Which sane girl wouldn't? He was an epitome of a powerful attractive male, one of the most handsome man she'd ever seen—not that she ever spent much time dwelling on men and their looks. This man, though, demanded admiration, even from her. He was just so masculine, so striking. He turned both male and female heads wherever he went. And not just because of his arresting features and physique. It was his air of authority, the absolute power that emanated from him. It was compelling in a way that captivated her. 

She swallowed thickly and looked away. What was she thinking? She mentally slapped herself. 

You're a mother for fuck's sake! 

She downed her glass in one and drunkily ordered for another, clutching the bar to steady herself. 

Channing wondered what had made her to drink that much and felt the need to share in her sorrow. 'Whiskey on the rocks,' he said in his monotone voice to the bartender. 

The bartender was so shocked it took him some seconds to snap out of it. He quickly served the man's order still feeling very confused. Why was the club's most important customer coming to the bar to get his own drink? But his question was answered when he saw his gaze on the lady. 

Ah, soft work! 

Channing drank out of his glass and stared at the girl. She'd glanced at him and her eyes had widened in recognition then had turned back to the bar to place another order. Something in him had tightened at this, she'd looked so beautiful, a sex bomb, almost perfect. 'My name is Channing, what's yours, beautiful?' he asked. 

At first she seemed not to have heard him but then she shut her eyes, opened them and said, 'Taissa.' 

'A complimentary name for a goddess like you,' he said and grinned. 

Taissa frowned feeling her head fuzzy with alcohol. Was he flirting with her? Yes, she answered her own question. This had to stop! She had kids! Moreso he looked dangerous, she was finding it hard to resist him, could feel his male aura enveloping her, drawing her in into the sex appeal he oozed, she felt lightheaded, like she was floating in air. Unconsciously, she reached a hand out as though to touch his face. He took hold of it and she fell out of her eggs in moonshine and hit the earth with a bump. 

She tried to pull her hand out of his grasp but it was too late, he wouldn't let go of that limb. 'I'm married,' she said lamely. 

His grip on her hand lightened but didn't loosen and he traced long fingers over hers below the knuckle. She felt tingles ride up her arm like an electric shock and a slight moan escaped her lips. What the fuck was he doing to her? 

He must've felt it too because she heard him softly make a sound. 

'I don't see a ring.' His voice had gone husky. 

She tugged her hand again and he let go of it. Taissa wedged the hand tightly between her thighs and brushed a stray red lock out of her face with the other. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him finish his whiskey and get a refill. She needed to leave this place quickly before she did something very stupid—like kiss him. She didn't put herself beyond doing that, especially now she was drunk. 

Channing knocked back another glass and flashed a charming smile at her when he caught her staring. 

That did it! She wasn't going to sit there like a zombie and let him turn her brain to mush. 

She stood up precipitously and wheezed, the room momentarily spinning. The alcohol had rushed to her head and she felt herself falling, falling into the black abyss that was the floor, only for her to be caught halfway down by strong arms. She felt confused as the arms trapped her to a hard chest but leaned in to regain her balance. 

Her head rested over his heart and she felt it beat steadily in rhythm with hers pumping as a result of adrenaline. She didn't pull away from him when he helped her out into the cool night air. 

She looked more confused when the cool breeze kissed her skin and tried to pull away from him. 

'No, don't,' he said. It wasn't a plea, it was a command. 'You're pretty drunk, where's your car?' 

'We're both high,' Taissa slurred. She knew for a fact that he was tipsy too. She found herself shivering, and it wasn't from the cold. 

Channing raised an eyebrow and stared down at her. True he was tipsy but was still the saner of the two. After all, in a town of blind men a one-eyed man was king. Then she pouted at him and suddenly he felt his heart hammering in his chest. She looked so breathtaking, whatever had caused her to get herself drunk? He couldn't look away from those full pink lips beckoning to him. He lowered his head down to hers. May God help him. Half a second later his lips came smashing down on hers. 

For a second Taissa froze and didn't respond, but his hungry kiss woke up long-forgotten emotions in her and she went soft in his arms as she drank from his kisses like one delirious with thirst. 

We're both high, she said to herself.