MEETING THE MAN

A month later

Who the hell says money doesn’t bring happiness?

A fucking loser I tell you!

I don’t know where my father got his money from but I swear over that horrible old man’s grave, I would spend it all.

I lathered my skin with this sweet-smelling soap I found in the bathroom cabinet—amongst other ridiculously expensive bath soaps and a soft smile teased my lips.

Maybe I deserved this, or maybe this was his way of telling me he was sorry for everything he did to me.

I had moved into the Cabin two days after my meeting with the lawyer.

Truth be told, I didn’t take anything from my old apartment because it was pointless—the cabin had everything I would ever need and more, ranging from designer clothes to expensive shoes that I could have never dreamed of touching a month ago.

Combing my hand through my thick red hair, I quickly rinsed the shampoo from it and wrapped a towel around my head.

Since I was done with my bath, I decide to see a movie in the game room that sat downstairs.

A few minutes into the movie, I was getting bored so I changed my mind. Maybe all I need is to go to some club, get dirty drunk and sleep my lazy ass off on the couch.

It wasn’t the brightest of all the ideas but hey! I am single, I have no friends, parents, or even a neighbor, did I tell you my new cabin sat miles away from town and overlooked the prettiest beach I have ever seen?

Donning one of the Louboutin heels that I now owned, I swept my hair into a high ponytail and let some of them free, to frame my face.

The little black number draped over my petite, curvy looked feline, and oozed sex appeal.

Perfect.

Moments later, the Granger that sat untouched in the garage peeled off the lawn as I drove to the first and only club I noticed on my way from town this morning. It seemed somehow spooky that the Cabin stood alone, literally cut off from the rest of the town.

I brushed off the eerie feeling I was beginning to get and slowed my car to a stop in front of the club.

The name of the club made a blush crawl up my cheek as I muttered it, “Pop your Cherry Lounge.”

Ha-ha, how Ironical!

Its name was Cringe-worthy but believe me when I say it’s one of the biggest clubs/lounges in Bakersfield, California.

It had a long line—assortments of scantily clad people in front and I groaned, already hating I had to wait for so long.

But something happened.

I think I saw him before he saw me, either way, our eyes met across the tarmac where I stood-debating if I should join the line or not.

The man stood out from the crowd, his thick white-blond hair, combed straight back and brushing his collar. His light beards made him seem old-fashioned like he was some King of medieval times.

King of hearts.’ I thought with a slight chuckle.

He was pale almost too pale like an Albino.

Anyway, his lips were gorgeous, full, sharply sculpted and he had arched blond brows. His nose swooped down right out of that arch. The eyes staring into mine were even lighter than his hair, clear as the rain.

I tore my eyes away and gulped as he approached me with long, purposeful strides. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like prey. Due to my parental background, I was forced into the harsh reality that no one got my back so I had to toughen up. But this man made me feel like a squirrel…

“Come with me.” He said in a deep voice that was cool like a creek over suave rocks. It did funny things to the pit of my belly.

I raised my brows, “Why?”

“Are you new in town?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not necessarily but a local would know that to get in front of that line from where you are standing would take at least three hours.”

My jaw almost fell open, “Oh…” was all I could manage.

He tilted his head towards the entrance, “You coming?”

I was going to ask who the hell was he and why he would be given preferential treatment but I swallowed that retort because he was getting impatient.

I linked my hand through the arm he offered and followed him to the front of the line. I could feel the lingering angry gazes of the women back on the cue.

With a small nod, the security guard moved aside and we both walked into the club.

‘Guess, Mr. white Knight was quite popular.’

‘Wow.” That breathy sound fell through my lips as I took in the interior of the club.

The rich woods, including a parquet floor, a fireplace, a marble bar top, and chairs in a sultry red hue—that matched my lipstick—gave it a gentleman’s feel.

We were still walking ahead till he led me into a corner tagged, “V.I.P”

Snapping his fingers immediately we settled onto the couch, a waiter came rushing over, “A Chateau Lafitte for me and red wine for the lady.”

I considered it rude for him to order for me so I spared him a glare and then smiled at the waiter, “No thanks, I would love a glass of Latour with some ice cubes in it.”

The arm arched his brows in surprise, “Good taste, Miss…”

Hey, don’t be so judgmental! I’m poor doesn’t mean I don’t know expensive wines. I am addicted to wine Vocabulary. I sometimes dream of being a wine connoisseur.

“Haley,” I answered breathily, my heart thumping hard.

“Yes, Good taste Miss Haley but unfortunately, he only listens to what I tell him and you should too.” with that, he jutted his chin out and the waiter scurried away.

Okay, I had it there!

“Whoever you are, thanks for helping me into the club. Bye bye. Have a nice time.” I snapped and made to leave but his warm palm snaked around my wrist and yanked me on his lap, my thighs on either side of his thick lap.

A blush stained my cheeks

“A nice time without the most stunning woman on earth?” his voice was like creamy butter spreading all over my skin.

I just about melted into a puddle of horny goo.

“Is that a compliment?” I asked…probably stupidly.

“Take it as you will, Miss Haley.”

Somehow, I didn’t want him to call me by my last name. I wanted it to be Stephanie he called while talking to me.

“Call me Stephanie,” I said suddenly.

“Stephanie…I like it.” A smile curved his perfect lips and my breath was taken away.

“What is your name?” I asked him and before he could answer, the waiter brought an ice bucket that contained the two wines and then measured it into glasses.

The waiter was gone within the blink of an eye.

“I want you to call me Dom.” He said as his tongue snaked out and licked the lobe of my ears.

My eyes widened as I felt a wetness pool beneath my panties. I have never gotten aroused before. Stop doubting me! I mean it.

Men do not turn me on in the least bit…nor do women!

“Dom?”

Who owned that slutty breathy voice?

Certainly not me!