Apple Smirnoff

The music is loud and annoying, just like any club. Strobe lights flash on and off and the songs play at a dizzying pace, drowning out all but the loudest of conversation between the patrons. The place is packed, making the atmosphere hot, sticky, and cramped, but nobody seems to care. Everyone is busy dancing, drinking, or showing more than a little bit of public affection.

All except a tall blonde standing at the railing on the second floor. There's a blank, almost bored, expression on his face as his sky blue eyes gaze down at the dance floor. There's an air of uniqueness around him, being the only one not partaking in any of the revelry. Instead, he stands with his arms against the railing, watching and noting every single detail of the other clubbers.

Nothing seems to catch his eye, though, and he continues watching the scene with a disinterest that borders on antisocial behavior. It's not that he doesn't enjoy a good party. Tonight is just different. There are more important urges he needs to satisfy and he tends to be fairly picky. 

He did have certain tastes, after all.

As the tall blond overlooks the club, pink strands of hair cling to a slender throat and hips sway to the sound of the beat pounding in her ears. The club she and her friends had decided to hit tonight was incredibly crowded, and she feels her side brush someone else's as her front is pressed against the back of a stranger. However, the few drinks she had consumed earlier let her disregard how she's grinding against the unknown person's ass.

Everything is a blur of sweat, movement, and subtle brushes ranging to full on grinding. Green eyes are closed as she allows herself to become lost in the music, lights, and bodies. It was the weekend, and she had a rough week of school. Time to unwind and club to her heart's content.

The college parties they had around the dorms at school grew tiresome, and Sakura found herself lured to the clubs downtown, getting a few of her friends to join her. It was much more active, and she had fun in these places despite the claustrophobic atmosphere, and how her throat felt dry if she was on the dance floor for too long.

Like now. It was time for a drink, and she shoved her way out of the crowd to get to the bar.

Just when the blond is about to call this certain club a complete waste and move on, he spies someone that makes him decide to stay. His superior eyesight observes a small figure move through the maze of drunken patrons towards the bar as he moves stealthily towards the stairs. Blue eyes never leave their latest interest as he glides down to the first floor and weaves in and out of the other clubbers.

Pink hair. That was different. There weren't many around these parts with such a distinguishing feature. Even from across the room he can see how it sticks to the slightly damp skin of her neck, pinned with beads of sweat. And what a wonderful neck it is. It's delicate and pale... extremely vulnerable. A wide grin spreads across his lips as he slides to the bar ahead of her.

Nodding at the bartender, he slides into one of the only empty stools. Sliding a thick roll of money towards the interested bartender, he smiles. "The pink haired girl, whatever she orders, let her know who payed for it. There's a little extra there for you," he comments quietly before backing away and taking a spot nearby to watch.

Slipping in between a few people while muttering an apology, she gives a smile to the bartender when he finally asks her what she needs.  She orders an apple smirnoff to cool her down while wiping the sweat off her neck, wincing at the way it feels. She's about to pull her wad of cash out of her pocket when the bartender slides the chilled bottle over to her, but he waves her off. About to thank him for his generosity, he points and nods his head in the direction of a blonde male nearby.

It's funny that even in the way the club is completely packed, no one seems to touch him, and in a way she knows why. He just has a certain air around him that says to stay away. Regardless of his dangerous aura, and her instincts telling her to follow everyone's example and avoid him, she nods to the bartender once while taking her drink and walks towards him.

What did he want with her?

From his spot he watched the exchange between the bartender and the female. He nods approvingly to himself when the bartender pointed in his direction, informing the girl of her benefactor. His arms fold over his chest as he watches her make her way towards him. She was brave, of that he was certain. Not many people, much less females,  would make their way towards him even in a crowded club. 

He liked the brave ones.

Wandering blue eyes steal glances at her body as she makes her way through the crowd. She was young and pretty, probably one of the college students from the nearby university. They were visiting the clubs more and more nowadays and proved to be more than willing partygoers. His eyes scan the most vulnerable places... neck, thighs, inner arms... before settling on her own eyes. They were a striking emerald green and for a moment he's caught off guard. It doesn't take long for him to regain his composure though.

"It's dangerous to accept drinks from strangers you know," he comments idly with a sly grin as she approaches him.

She has an idea of what he wants now as his eyes wander her form. Her eyes narrow when she's finally in front of him and at his comment, feeling her body tense at his grin that oozed predator. And she was the prey.

“I haven't had a sip yet,” she quips, while letting her own eyes rake over him. Spikey blonde hair, a strong jaw with angular features, broad shoulders, toned arms folded over a chest. Any girl would be groveling at his feet, but she's not any girl. Her eyes move back up to his bright baby blues. She was expecting dark eyes and it has her unsettled of how bright they actually are.

And almost hungry. She better make this quick.

“I just came over here to say thank you,” she starts, fiddling with the bottle but keeping her eyes on his. “For the drink, it was kind of you, but I'm a big girl. I can pay for my own things.”

Good. He was hoping she wouldn't make it easy for him.

Frankly, had she thrown herself at him he would've lost interest. What's the fun in taking something that's given too freely? It was the thrill of the hunt that made it all worthwhile. He was a predator, after all. This club was his domain and everyone in it merely his prey. She was no different.

Actually, something was different, but he can't put his finger on it.

"Whatever floats your boat," he shrugs. "In that case, you won't be needing this, will you?" Reaching for her drink, he swipes it and takes a long sip, letting the cool alcohol slide down his throat unable to quench his thirst. "I'll let you get back to your friends."

Her jaw drops open when he takes her smirnoff, watching as he drinks it. Just because she said she didn't need him taking care of her, didn't mean she didn't want it! With a huff she turns on her heel and walks back to the bar, making sure to stay far away and out of the blond's sight. That was no way to treat a lady. Ass.

He has to laugh a little to himself when she storms off. She was feisty, another trait he liked, and he can't help but notice yet another part of her that makes him smile as she shuffles back to the bar. His eyes settle on her ass and he licks his lips. It was beginning to look like the evening wasn't going to be a total waste after all.

Friends? She had no idea where they had wandered off to. Although they had showed up as a group, every time they had gone there own ways. Whether it was leaving the club altogether, or sticking around and doing their own thing. She hadn't seen anyone since they had gotten inside, immediately swept away by the crowd.

A few minutes tick by as he lets her simmer a little. There were plenty of other easier targets in the club, but he's in the mood for more fun than usual. Plus, she's all alone. Her friends seemed to have ditched her, and he can't just let her feel lonely, especially with all sorts of seedy characters around willing to take advantage of the college girls.

Like him.

She ordered another drink, apple smirnoff again, and this time paid with her own cash before sliding into an empty stool. What was his problem anyway? Did he get her a drink just to get her to talk to him? She took a long swig, the cool liquid sliding down her throat cooling her off a little, her temper and her body's heat. She had cooled off a little now that she didn't have to talk to anymore jackass blonds with blue eyes. Her bottle is about halfway down when she feel someone slides into the stool next to her.

"You forgot to throw away your bottle," he quips as he plops into a stool next to her, sliding the empty smirnoff towards her.

She figures it's just another clubber but is surprised at the empty bottle appearing in her line of vision. Her eyes narrow at it before she whips her head to its holder, pursing her lips at the familiar stranger.

“It's yours,” she growls quietly, bringing her own bottle to her lips again speaking into the rim, “you paid for it.”

Dropping the bottle to its side on the countertop, he twirls it idly a few times, motioning for the bartender to come take another order. "Actually, I just paid for whatever you wanted. I don't really like apple," he muses quietly, partly to himself as he watched the back of her head. The bartender appeared behind the counter and the blonde nodded at him.

"I much prefer... cherry... vodka. Ever had it?" he asks rhetorically, pulling out his wallet once more and laying more cash on the bar for his latest drink. The bartender finds a nearby bottle slides it across towards the blue eyed patron who quickly puts the rim to his lips and takes a long swig.

With another huff, she turns her back to him, watching the dance floor and more than ready to join it again. She had gotten her drink, and her buzz was back despite the stubborn male next to her. Her legs crossed in her denim mini skirt, as she continued to watch the bodies move and the music to go on. The club was open pretty late, and she had probably only been here for an hour or so. Plenty more time to do what she needed before she was through.

He swivels in his stool to watch the dance floor like her. His elbows prop themselves up against the bar as he leans back, the bottle of vodka dangling between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand as he takes sip every few moments. The music is still loud and annoying and he wonders how it ever got to be popular. He could think of a few other styles he much preferred.

"You really like this shit?"

He's talking to her but she chooses to ignore him, quickly finishing her drink and leaving it on the counter as she gets up from her stool and makes her way back to the dance floor, squeezing in between grinding and twisting bodies to get away from her temporary stalker. She didn't like the music, but it wasn't like this was a request club. It was a dance or leave.

Hard to get, eh?

Doesn't matter. He's a determined individual, especially when he's hungry like he is and the prospect of something so satisfying is dangling right in front of him. But hell, she had disappeared to the dance floor, somewhere he detested. One of the real reasons he hated the shitty music was the fact that he couldn't dance. Despite all his natural skill and the image he put up on the outside, he was clumsier than hell.

Once she makes sure she's surrounded by bodies again and it would be difficult to find her, she starts swinging her hips again, the alcohol pumping through her veins and the music in her ears even more now that she's closer to the speakers. The strobe light makes her dizzy as it flashes everywhere and she has to close her eyes so she doesn't fall over.

She didn't think she was drunk yet, but with her eyes closed it's hard to keep herself upright and she's glad for the bodies pushing her upright or she really would fall over. And once again lost in the music, no matter how bad, she joins the chaos on the floor, wondering where her friends went.

Even if she tried to hide from him, he know's where she is. He can still smell her, the combined scent of sweat and her own natural smell. It's easy to find her even in the crowded club and he follows his senses towards the speakers, the pounding beginning to give him an even bigger headache. The music combined with his hunger is starting to make him lose his patience and he's almost ready to give up and find an easier target, but he sees her and laughs at her apparent drunkenness.

All that drinking she had participated in tonight had done quite a number on her, and she's almost ready to call it a night when she stumbles a little. How many bottles had she consumed? She can't remember, and it makes her head hurt trying to recall, the music not making it any better.

Her petite frame probably couldn't hold much alcohol, and it shows. He shuffles up to her side, grinding against her slightly as he leans in closely to her ear.

"You shouldn't be dancing in your condition."

She's about to turn around and head out the door, content with finding a bus or walking home when a body, surprisingly cold, presses against her and grinds slightly. A shudder makes a course through her as a voice vibrates against her ear, but she narrows her eyes a moment later. That voice was familiar, and she realizes its the stalking stranger.

“My condition is fine,” she shouts over the music, teeth gritting as she turns to face him and green eyes flashing in annoyance. But she wasn't really fine. She was actually pretty drunk, and getting drunker the more she moves around.

"Yeah, you look fine," he comments sarcastically. Every second seemed to make her stagger even more and he presses closer. Even he would feel bad if she were to fall over and hurt herself. Stupid dancing. He has to use every bit of his concentration just to make his moves passable and for a moment all his endeavors are out of his mind as he grinds against her.

“What happened to your drink?” she asks rhetorically before turning her back to him again, starting to move her hips again.

As she turns her back, he moves even closer, hovering his hands inches from her hips as he brushes against her from behind. He cranes his neck, leaning forward slightly and letting his lips rest centimeters from her neck. He makes sure to blow deep hot breaths onto her with every word he says.

Even if his body is cold, she feels her own flare up in heat as he pushes close. 'It's just the alcohol,' she tries to reason with herself, but it's hard to explain the second shudder that night when he breathes hot air onto her sweating neck. He even smelled dangerous as he leaned closer, but that dangerousness was somehow incredibly alluring. Her body tenses even more as the tips of his fingers skim her sides, moving the fabric of her skintight shirt as it tickles her skin.

"You're not fine. You should get your friends to take you home," he breathes heavily. Fingertips brush against her sides barely as he grinds with her to the music, matching her own movements. "And as for my drink, I decided it wasn't what I wanted."

“I don't know where they are,” she breathes heavily, and curses herself for sounding so sultry. Alcohol, it was the alcohol. He had no effect on her whatsoever. “For alcohol, they have plenty of other things to choose from if you didn't want that,” still breathy, but less sultry, more tired from all her dancing and their grinding.

From the flushed look and the sound of her voice, he can tell his breath and movements were having the desired effect. He closes his eyes to focus on her scent. It would be hard to forget now. The combination of waiting so long to satisfy his hunger and this certain female who seemed to press all his buttons at once had definitely made an impression on him. Something about her just...

Grinding? Since when...? He wasn't pushing against her like this a second ago, nor was she grinding back into him. She pulls away surprised, eyes widened as she stares at his hungry eyes.

He can't help the barely audible growl that rumbles from his chest when she pulls away and stares at him. His sky blue eyes lock with emerald green ones as he takes a step towards her. Reaching up, he brushes a lock of pink hair from her forehead. "It was covering those pretty green eyes," he explains before taking yet another step.

Her back tenses when he takes his steps towards her, hand twitching to smack his hand away when he brushes her hair away from her face. She couldn't move as he kept their eyes locked, something was keeping her rooted to the spot. Maybe it was how different he seemed than every male in the club, and again the way everyone had avoided him from earlier invaded her thoughts.

The blonde head tilts slightly as he watches her curiously, wondering if it was the alcohol or something else that was allowing him to grind her earlier. A wide smile spreads across his face as he shoots her another hungry look.

There had to be a reason.

Everything he did was very primal, from the way his lips stretched across his face -as he flashed her another smile- to his eyes, as if watching a meal. The third shudder for the night, and hopefully the last shoots down her spine again.

"Didn't you like our dancing?" he asks. "I thought we were having fun. Is it my clumsiness? I didn't step on your feet, did I?" he jokes as he leans closer to her.

“You're not clumsy,” gasping, she realizes she wasn't breathing as she watched him. What the hell was wrong with her? Her breath hitches as he leans closer, and she arches her back to get away slightly, swallowing hard.

He finally breaks eye contact as he leans dangerously close to her, twisting his neck to get around to her ear, bodies barely an inch apart. His hands reach up and trace up her arms with barely an echo of a touch. Hot air once again leaves his lungs as his lips hover near her ear. "Then why did you stop?" he whispers breathily.

Why did she stop? For the very same reason she should pull away now. He was too close, and the closer he got the more her body flushed and her heart picked up. She could hear it pound in her ears even over the bass of the music. She didn't need to sit down, she needed to get out of here. Get some fresh air. Yeah, fresh air. It was just the thick heat of the air that was making her so lightheaded.

The rough pad of his right thumb traces back down her inner arm, finally resting on the inside of her wrist. He can feel her pulse pounding quickly, promising an intense meal that he's still craving and growing more impatient to have. His noses brushes against her ear as he leans closer to keep whispering. "Do you need to sit down? You look like you're out of breath."

And then he very gently presses his lips against her ear, almost as if it had never happened.

She's definitely not lightheaded from his closeness or the subtle brushes of his fingers, or the small press of his lips on her ear.

She shudders again. That was four.

As sudden as he had pressed close to her, he leans back and looks around. "So, what do your friends look like? Kinda heartless of them to leave you all alone, don't you think?" His hands lock behind his head as he watches her.

“They do this all the time,” she breathes, starting to back up and make her way out. Her eyes won't leave his as she continues to move away from his eyes watching her like a hawk.

"Do you want me to help you look for them?" he asks.

“No, I think I'm just going to walk home or catch a bus. Someone else drove so they'll be fine.” How close was she to the door? Would it look weird if she bolted? Her muscles are already tense and ready to spring.

"I'd hate for you to have to walk all the way home or catch a bus at this hour by yourself," he remarks idly as he follows her backwards, keeping his gaze locked with hers the entire time. "That's dangerous, you know. I don't mind walking you home." Another smile spreads across his lips as his hands rest on her hips, guiding and weaving her around the other dancers as he helps her back towards the door.

Of course the predator didn't mind walking his prey home, especially on a night like this. It's late in the evening and there will be hardly anyone out on the streets, if any. Half of her is saying yes. When was the last time she had a good looking guy want to be in her company? The other is screaming no, reasoning that her instincts were telling her to get away as soon as possible.

His fingers wrap around her waist and he uses them to stop her as they leave the dancefloor. "Your friends do this all the time?" he asks, pressing his body closer and closer. Heightened senses can feel and hear her heart racing and he knows the he's having some sort of effect on her, whether it be a positive or negative one he still doesn't know.

Leaning in once more, he brushes the tip of his nose against the delicate skin of his neck. Had anyone been in a good position, they might've seen his mouth open slightly and the flash of white teeth dangerously close to the nape of her neck before he pursed his lips and blew hot air onto her. "Sounds like you need new friends."

"I'll be your friend."

She shudders again at the warm air on her sensitive neck. Five.

“My...f-friends are fine,” dammit. Why was she stuttering? “We just get to do what we want when aren't in a group, that's all.” 'And it lets people like you pick us up,' she growls inwardly. Not that she wanted to be picked up, she was usually occupied and thought by the second time she turned her back on him he would've given up. All the other guys did.

“I wonder if you want to be more than friends though,” she says sharply.

How much resistance did she have left? He knows it can't be much. With the alcohol she had consumed and the advances he had given her, he knew she was close to crumbling, but she still held out. That was fine, though. The harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. The blonde licks his lips near her neck at the thought of such a savory victory.

"You get to do what you want when you aren't in the group, eh?" His head turns and he runs his cheek up against hers as his chin raises higher, brushing over the top of her head and then coming down the other side of her face as he slides their other cheeks against one another. He presses his face close to her neck again, the opposite side this time, and rubs the bridge of his nose along the soft pale skin. "What is it you want to do, then?"

He continues nuzzling her neck gently with his forehead and nose as his hands pull her closer to his body. His urges are running wild and threatening to make him give in to his darker side, eliciting a long and low 'hmmmm'. "More than friends?" he whispers quietly into the nape of her neck.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be."

Her breathing gets increasingly harder and sharp as he touches her, his cheek rubbing against hers before he's at her neck again. What did she want to do? She didn't know anymore, his body pressing closer to hers has her brain even more muddled from the alcohol and her body's temperature to raise. She wonders if any other guy in the club was doing this, she'd be as responding.

He's pulling her even closer, and she starts to feel her curves press into his, throat growing tight so she swallows hard a few times to loosen it. He doesn't make it easy when he hums deeply against her neck.

Six shudders.

“I want you,” she pants, “to leave me alone.” With the last of her remaining strength she pushes him away and spins on her heel, stumbling towards the door. Fresh air is just on the tips of her fingers, and she's sure that with it her mind will clear and her body will cool down.

The blonde is taken aback for a minute as he watches her leave. He scratches his head a few times feeling, for the first time in a very long time, quite confused. Who was she to refuse him? Who was this female who was probably barely old enough to even be in a place like this. This went far beyond his need to satisfy his hunger. Now it was an issue of pride.

A scowl forms on his face as he swiftly follows along behind her. Leave her alone, she says? She didn't really mean that. He felt how she was responding. He could see in those deep green eyes what she really wanted. How long had it been since she had felt the type of pleasure he could give her if he was willing?

And he was willing, now.

He catches her around the waist with a strong arm just as she leaves the club. Twirling her around and out of the way of the entrance, he presses her back up against the building wall. Pushing himself up against her, he stares into her eyes. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you really want me to leave you alone."

This was his hurt ego at work.

A surprised cry leaves her throat as she's pushed up roughly against a wall, glaring before a body follows, pinning her against the building's side. Her breath leaves her as blue eyes peg her with a fierce stare. How can she look him in the eyes like that? She tries for a moment, returning his stare from under her lashes and biting her lip so she doesn't spit at him in anger.

Her temper was flaring and rearing.

However she can't look him in the eyes and say what she had been trying to convince herself ever since she caught his interest. She turns it around on him instead, looking him right back in the eyes again. “What do you want from me?” she growls, pushing her hips forward to get some space, but just resulting in closer contact.

Seven.

Blue eyes flash angrily. "What do I want?!?" he asks furiously. What makes her think she can ask that question? How dare she make this about him? This had nothing to do with him. It had everything to do with how she was denying what her body eagerly wanted. It had to do with how she was trying to play down that she wanted him. He knew what he wanted.

Release. Release from the horrible hunger that was welling up inside him. Release from the aching tension she had given him. Release from the damaged ego she had caused.

"What do I want?!?" he asks once more much louder and ferociously. His fist slams into the brick wall at her side as he feels the anger boiling over in him. There's just a slight bit of pain that shoots through his arm, but nothing serious to someone like him. He draws his face even closer to hers and snarls, opening his mouth a bit wider.

Her body is paralyzed, not realizing that such a question could set off a person and winces when his fist slams into the building. He'd probably broken his hand. But as she peeks at him as he backs away she notices some broken skin. No blood.

What?