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The girl at the end of the bar, William mused, really did not belong in a dive like The Alibi Room.

She was, to put it mildly, a golden goddess. Shiny, shampoo-commercial hair fell in cornsilk-colored waves halfway down her back. Her back which, thank you very much, was all but bare, covered only by the intricate ties that held her shimmery silver halter top in place. A gauzy black skirt fell away from her crossed legs, giving William a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, tanned thighs. He let his gaze hover on her legs for a long moment, captivated by the way her knee-high leather boots encased her sweetly rounded calves.

She was watching him watch her, he realized, when his eyes finally trailed their way back up her body, making sure to detour at the delectable curve of her breasts before landing on her face. He would have blushed at his own boldness if not for the fortification of the cheap scotch he had consumed in abundant quantities over the past few hours. His eyes flickered across her face, taking in the full lips, the funny little bump at the tip of her nose, her big hazel eyes. He gave her a smirking smile and curled his tongue behind his teeth.

She gave a small smile back and then a fight that had broken out between two over-lubricated patrons caught her attention. William took advantage of her distraction to eye her up again. Then he gave a small, quiet sigh and returned to moping into his drink.

Five years, he thought. Five years of devotion and adoration, and where did it get him? Alone and half-drunk - well, three quarters drunk, more like - in a run-down and beyond filthy bar. He had thought, until just this evening, that he and Dru were destined for each other. They had a love that would last an eternity. William let out a derisive snort at that maudlin thought and slammed down the remainder of his drink. He set his glass down and made eye contact with the bartender, who nodded briefly when William pointed at his empty glass.

With his drink refilled, William leaned back on his barstool and glanced around the room again. The golden girl was gone; William felt a frisson of disappointment. He decided he would finish this one last drink and then head... where? Certainly not home. Another sigh escaped him. A hotel then, but something nice. Sitting in this dive for the past several hours was as much slumming as he wished to do for today.

"Do you want to talk about it?" came a sultry voice from his left. William looked around and almost dropped his drink. It was the girl, sliding her little form onto the stool next to him. A wave of her jasmine perfume wafted over him and he felt himself become suddenly one hundred percent, all the way drunk.

"Wha... uh.. talk?" he stuttered. His attention was again caught by her legs as she crossed them and her skirt slid even higher up her thigh.

She laughed, and even that was golden. She seemed to shed a soft glow that was unmuted by their squalid surroundings. "You look so sad," she explained. "I came over to see if I could cheer you up."

William chuckled as he took in her pseudo-shy glance up at him from beneath long eyelashes. "Is it Be Kind to Pathetic Strangers Day, or am I just that lucky?" he teased her.

"You're just that lucky," she shot back. She laid a small hand on his bare arm. "And definitely anything but pathetic. So, is it working?"

William looked down at her hand and then slowly back at her laughing eyes. He felt a grin crack his face. It began to sink through his drunken haze that this girl was seriously coming on to him.

"You’re a bloody miracle worker, kitten. How can I ever thank you?”

She leaned over with the sweetest smile, pressed her lips to his ear, and gave him a stirring suggestion for exactly how he could best express his gratitude.



***

William woke to an unfamiliar room and a throbbing hangover. He groaned experimentally, hoping his head wouldn't fall right off his shoulders. Then he looked around and wondered for a moment where he was. Generic wallpaper, tasteless pastel artwork, polyester bedspread... a hotel room for sure.

Flashes of the night before came back to him as he struggled to a sitting position. The cab ride from the bar to the hotel - the two of them necking like frantic teenagers in the backseat while the cab driver snuck peeks in the rearview mirror. He vaguely remembered pulling back from her hot kisses to ask her name. Anne, she'd said, and then he’d said something inane about his mum, but then it didn’t matter because she was kissing him again.

Checking into the hotel, a process which took much longer than it ought to have, due mainly to Anne's hands wandering across his back, over his hips, and into his pants, rendering him incapable of filling out the requisite paperwork.

And then walking into the hotel room, where Anne promptly pushed him against the door and gave him the hottest, fastest blow job he'd ever received. William felt his cock spring to life at the memory of her teeth nipping at his neck and collarbone, the way she'd pulled his clothes apart and released him from his jeans. He knew he'd come fast, like a schoolboy. And hadn't that made her smile in the most satisfied way.

William knew they hadn't stopped there. A tiny scrap of black silk caught his eye, peeking out from underneath the rumpled bedspread. Right. "Wanna see you strip off for me," he'd told her, then sat back and watched his own private strip tease. Her hands had trembled, he remembered, and he thought again what a strange combination of sexual confidence and shy innocence she had been. When she was naked, all but her boots, she stood in front of him almost awkwardly, arms twitching to cover herself and a blush spreading across her body.

William leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands. What he'd done last night was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Even five years of admittedly kinky sex with Dru had nothing on this. Anne had just to touch him and he'd been ready to explode. Hell, he'd almost come in his jeans from kissing her in the cab. And where was she this morning? Nowhere to be seen, and no sign that she'd even been beyond the thong she'd left behind and the ache in his balls.

Another memory came to him then, of her stretched across the bed on her stomach, him moving above her, hands caressing her smooth skin. Stopping his perusal of her body at her hips, at the fading bruises that littered her buttocks and thighs. "What's all this, pet?" he'd asked.

She'd craned her neck around, glanced carelessly at the marks he was tracing with a single finger. "I do a little gymnastics. Fall down every now and then." She'd watched him for a minute, then wiggled her hips at him. "Want you to fuck me now." Very matter-of-fact about it, which had made him even harder and he'd obliged. He'd obliged more than once during the night, dozing between bouts, then rousing to reach for her again. Or waking to the feel of her hands or mouth on him. Insatiable, both of them.

William flopped back onto the bed. He could smell her all around him, jasmine and sweat and sex, and it made him hard again. He cursed himself for not waking before she snuck away, for not getting a number or a last name, or anything that would make it possible to find her again.

And now he had to walk out of this rented room, leave her scent behind, and head home. Home, where Dru would be waiting for him to come crawling back. Or where she would be fucking another man in his bed. Either way, not an appealing thought. William forced himself to get out of bed and get dressed, stopping only to retrieve Anne's black thong and slip it into the back pocket of his jeans.



***

The scene with Dru went about as well as William had imagined. She flew into a mad rage the moment he stumbled into the house, rumpled and red-eyed and stinking of cheap booze and another woman. It would have been funny if it weren't so ironic.

"I walk in on you shaggin' some bloke in MY bed, in MY house, and you have the nerve to get pissed at me for gettin' some on the side?" he screamed at her finally. "You are the craziest bint I've ever had the misfortune to get mixed up with, and it's over, Drusilla. I can't do this with you anymore."

"I made you what you are, my William," Dru crooned. She swayed in front of him, arms reaching for him, and he backed away quickly. "You can't turn away from me now."

"Watch me," he growled. "I want you out of this house in thirty minutes. Take what you can, and come back in a week for the rest of your stuff. It'll be outside."

"William!" Fat tears welled up in Drusilla's eyes. "You can't mean this. You love me."

"Correction. I loved you. Now I don't." He rummaged around the kitchen cupboards until he found a fresh pack of smokes. "I'm goin' for a walk now. When I come back, you'd best be gone." The door slammed behind him with finality and he released a pent-up sigh.

He returned, more than an hour later, to an empty house. He stripped the sheets off his bed and stuffed them into a garbage bag. As soon as he lay down on the bare mattress he was asleep.





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