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He doesn't know her hubby was watching.
I singled her out pretty quickly. Her platinum blond hair picked up the myriad of lights gleaming from the rafters. As she moved right or left, the color would shift red to blue, purple to green. Strobes bounced and reflected from her silver sequined top, allowing me to spot her from just about any point within the club. Me and everyone else, more than likely. I saw Katelin on the second floor, she was definitely watching. As her eyes met mine during a scan of the crowd, I mouthed 'Mine.' She made a shrug of her shoulder and a sneer of her perfectly made up lips, then turned back to the bar.
I began to move through the writhing mass of bodies, never taking my eyes off the brilliant sparkle of the blond girl. The DJ switched to a slower tempo beat, and a good number of people left the floor, to drink, or smoke, or wait in the big, overstuffed booths for a faster song.
My girl was undeterred, and continued to sway on her patent leather heels. I finally got close, leaning up against her back and sliding a hand smoothly around the front of her waist. We bounced and swayed in time, following the beat. Only once did she make note of my presence, slipping a hand up and behind her head, running her long fingers through my dark hair and down the front of my shirt.
When the song stopped, she coolly turned within my embrace, planting her hands firmly against my chest. Her large brown eyes met mine, and she smiled. An Angel. Those eyes slid liquidly about my face, my front swept black hair, my smooth skin, green eyes, snake bite piercings. I expected her to shake her head and back off, but she did not. She smiled a huge, white grin, and spoke.
"I'm Sylvie," she reached up on tiptoes to speak into my ear, tottered on her sky high heels, caught herself upon my arm, and laughed like wind chimes.
"Dixon" I replied.
She glanced down at the arm she still clutched, running her fingers over the tattoos there. Crows danced beneath her fingertips, caught in endless flight. I had the distinct feeling her own body was unmarred. I can't imagine how I looked to her.
"Do you want a drink?" I asked, and smiled, all wolf.
"Um. Maybe a cigarette," she smiled.
Sylvie took my hand in hers, leading me away from her friends, the crowd, the booming beat and hot overhead lights. Through the door and into the night, spots dancing before our eyes in the aftermath of the strobes. I could still feel the beat in the soles of my shoes, carried out through the concrete under the door. I bet you could feel it on the whole block.
She shimmies to the music still, even though we've walked away from the high walls of the old warehouse. Another abandoned warehouse building next door speaks to her, somehow. She headed across the gravel and onto the next lot, slim fingers still entwined in mine. She rocked only slightly on those heels, I surefooted in Chuck Taylor's as we climbed a small embankment. She hesitated not at all when she came to the gaping maw of the old building, pitch black inside save for what light entered in through the broken and dirty windows emanating from the floodlights of Liquid next door.
I pull the pack of cigarettes from my pocket; light one up as I watch her move. Her top catching every tiny movement, every smattering of light, calling to me in the darkness. Finally Sylvie stops, leans against an old, filthy pillar, and poses seductively. I wonder if she'll put up a fight.
"Come here, Dixon." My name sounds amazing on her lips.
Sylvie reaches for me, before I even come to arm's length. I slide within her embrace; she smells of alcohol and peonies. I could have taken her right there, I wanted to. But I stalled. Sylvie did not.
She brought me in and kissed me hard, breathing heavy against my lips.