CHAPTER TWO
Ailsa
THE DARK LIQUID within the glass in my hand swished as I gave it another slow swirl, the melting ice cubes clinking lazily against the sides.
Condensation slicked the outside of the glass, dampening my fingers.
I took a sip, letting the burn settle warm and low in my chest. I was already riding a pleasant buzz from the alcohol and my body wanted to move, to dance, but the music in this bar was positively shit.
I grimaced, glancing around the bar again as though it might somehow improve. It didn’t. Dim lighting tried and failed to create any sort of atmosphere, and the crowd leaned more towards bored after-work drinkers than anyone looking to actually enjoy themselves.
“I’m gonna head, Bradley,” I said, tipping back the rest of my drink in one go.
He looked up from his pint, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “But we only just got here. Come on, have another drink with me first.”
“Nah, I’m good,” I said, setting my empty glass down with a soft thud on the sticky bar top. “I’ve had a long day and my bed calls to me.” A complete lie, but I delivered it easily.
Bradley frowned, clearly not convinced. “You sure? You seemed happy to get out of that dinner.”
“I was,” I said, offering a quick smile to soften my sudden departure. “And I’m glad we did. I’m just… not feeling this place.”
That part, at least, was true.
While his idea to escape the dinner had been a good one, his choice in the bar wasn’t. There was a decent club not far from here that was much more my type of scene, and I knew I could let my hair down there without having to dwell on small talk.
He hesitated, then nodded, though I could tell he was debating whether to insist on seeing me home safely. I beat him to it.
“You stay,” I added, grabbing my bag. “Have a couple more. I’ll be fine.”
Evidently, that had settled it. “Alright.”
I didn’t wait around for more. The sooner I got out, the better.
A change of location, three drinks and several songs later, I was submerged in a sea of sweaty, dancing bodies.
Right where I wanted to be. The air was thick and close, laced with the sharp tang of alcohol, cheap deodorant, and smoke.
Heat pressed in from all sides, clinging to my skin, but I barely noticed.
The music was relentless—loud enough to rattle my ribs, the bass a steady pounding force that drowned out all other sounds and I could just ignore my inner monologue for once.
The world around me disappeared as I got lost to the music.
It was proper music this time—gritty, visceral, something with edge.
I moved intuitively to the sound, without a care in the world, feeling free at last.
Light strobed overhead in erratic bursts—acid greens, harsh reds, flashes of white that froze everything into disjointed snapshots—a grin here, a raised arm there, bodies colliding and separating in time with the rhythm.
I let myself sink into it.
No thinking. No analysing. No replaying the day in exhausting loops.
Just movement.
I lifted my arms, letting the pulse of the music carry through me, every beat loosening something tight in my soul, when I felt someone step in close behind me.
A body, warm and immediate. I started to turn, ready to shrug him off, maybe give him a pointed look that said ‘not interested’ without wasting a breath on it—
But then I saw him.
And paused.
Actually… he was really fucking hot.
Tall enough that I had to tilt my head slightly. He was dressed simply—dark jeans and a dark shirt, nothing fancy but it worked. Effortless, like he didn’t need to try. But that wasn’t what had held my attention.
It was his hair.
God, his hair.
A thick, unruly mane of dirty blond, falling past his shoulders in loose waves, almost as long as my own, catching the strobe lights in flashes. He looked like he belonged to some eighties rock band, like he should have a guitar slung low across his hips and a crowd screaming his name.
But he was looking at me.
Not vaguely. Not casually.
Directly.
The brief flicker of irritation dissolved as quickly as it had come.
Who was I to stop him?
I let my hesitation melt into the rhythm, turning fully this time and closing the small gap between us as I swirled my hips against his. If he wanted to dance then we’d dance.
His hands didn’t grab, didn’t presume—just hovered for a moment, giving me the chance to pull away. When I didn't, when I leaned into him instead, they settled lightly at my hips.
A spark shot low through my stomach.
Definitely the alcohol talking. Right?
But drunk Ailsa had always had a better instinct for fun than sober Ailsa ever dared to admit.
I tipped my head back slightly, catching the glint of amusement in his eyes as the lights flickered over us. There was something in the way he moved—confident without being overbearing, matching my pace rather than trying to control it.
Good.
I pressed back just enough to test him, letting the music guide our movements, the two us slipping into the same rhythm as if it had been decided long before this moment.
The rest of the room blurred at the edges. There was only him.
His breath was hot against the nape of my neck and one of his hands moved from my hips to further explore the curves of my body, and I let him.
Next thing I knew, I was pushing him out the fire exit to the rear of the building, with his lips firmly pressed on mine.
The cold November air bit at my skin as we stepped outside, but it did little to quell the rising heat in me.
I licked my lips as my eyes trailed over him and his muscular frame.
The black shirt he was wearing did little to hide the muscles beneath, and the way he had it half unbuttoned showed a dusting of light hair on his chest and I couldn’t help but picture the trail of it leading southbound.
There was a noticeable bulge straining at the front of his jeans and I couldn’t help myself.
I blamed it on the alcohol, though really I knew that had nothing to do with it.
I was horny as fuck and I needed this man. Now.
“Woah, wow,” he excitedly exclaimed as my hand reached to touch his bulge, and fuck me, even restrained like this, it was obvious he was God’s favourite.
Despite his vocal surprise, he made no move to stop my hand or move out of my reach, instead his huge frame crowded around me as he caged me against the wall.
“Here?” he asked in confirmation, his tone now much lower, and fuck, the depth of it lit me alight.
I nodded and his mouth came crashing against mine. There was no space left between us and my lungs struggled for air. His tongue danced around mine and I tasted smoke and whiskey on his breath.
“Why do you smell so fucking,” he all but groaned against my mouth. “Good.”
Um thanks, I guess. Why do guys always say weird shit like that?
I was inclined to ignore the comment, on account of the fact that he actually seemed to know what he was doing though. It almost made me want to get to know him, perhaps even date him. Though that would undoubtedly lead to disappointment.
My hand found its way into his hair as I pulled him even closer against me to shut him up and his hand pushed against my bra as he fought his way to the skin beneath.
I moaned, a desperate, needy sound.
I couldn’t really fathom why I was so goddamn horny tonight, I must have been ovulating or something.
His teeth dragged lazily up my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
This man had no business making me squirm like this.
He wasn’t even my type, not really. He was far too pretty.
I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me as his tongue darted out between kisses and he licked up to my ear before sucking on my ear lobe.
Seemingly not giving a shit that I was wearing earrings.
Who was this man?
I was half tempted to learn his name.
But thankfully, before I could give that thought any more time, he hitched my skirt up, distracting me, and his fingers hungrily prodded at my underwear.
He growled at the revelation of how wet I was and I found that I didn’t hate the sound.
Actually, it really turned me on. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a man growl at me before.
Again, it left me wondering who the fuck this guy was.
I fumbled at the button of his jeans, then pulled his zipper down so I could get a proper feel of what we’d be working with, and holy fuck, he did not disappoint.
I wrapped my hand around his shaft, using my thumb to spread the bead of precum that had gathered at the tip of it and using it as lubricant as I moved my hand up and down lazily.
He grunted against my mouth and pushed two of his fingers into my sopping pussy and curling them in just the right way.
I hooked my leg around his waist on instinct giving him a better angle.
His thumb found my clit not a second later and started circling it in a slow but perfect rhythm. I whimpered as he hit the right spot again and again, and I moved my hand up and down on his huge cock, getting more and more desperate to feel it inside me.
As though reading my mind, his hand flew to my backside and he hoisted me up against the wall.
My legs wrapped around him as he lifted me off the ground entirely.
Holy fuck, he was strong and so goddamn confident.
He wasted no time as he pulled a condom from his pocket, ripped the cover open with his teeth in the sexiest way I’d ever seen, and put it on.
Then he lined the head of his cock up with my entrance.
And then he pushed in.
I groaned at the sensation of the way he filled me, stretched me. It was utter bliss. He gave me a moment to adjust, but I was so wet and needy, it didn’t take long. Then he thrust in and out.
Hard.
Again and again.
Fuck. He was good.
And vocal.
A slur of curse words left his lips, only interrupted by moans and grunts of his own.
I’d never heard a man vocally display his pleasure like this.
“Fuck,” I cried, my writhing body against him, and my hips meeting his rhythm to perfection.
My senses felt heightened from the alcohol and the steady base coming from the music, along with the song of his pleasure.
Yet I somehow felt more in sync with myself than ever before.
I was wholly focused on the rising pleasure forming in my core.
His body moved against mine hard yet slow at the same time.
I had to give it to him, he knew how to use that magnificent cock of his.
Maybe I should get his number, or at least his name.
It normally took a lot more to get me even close to getting off, but something about his unrelenting, punishing thrusts and the way he ground his pelvis against me was getting me there.
“Oh my God,” I cried. “Oh, fuck, fucckk.”
I was coming.
My pussy clenched around the length of him, each wave gripping him eagerly, urging him to join me.
I could feel the smile on his lips as I moaned and trembled beneath him, and then he was grunting his own release. He kissed me as he emptied himself inside me, and all I could think about was how I’d really needed that.
I’d needed that release, that momentary lapse in judgement, to go against what my head normally told me.
It had felt fucking amazing. Maybe I should start fucking strangers in dingy alleyways more often.
Though, when said like that, it really didn’t sound like the smartest—certainly not the safest—option.
But then I would have missed out on the best orgasm of my life that hadn’t been at my own hand.
Imagine the possibilities in a world where I didn’t have to constantly worry about my safety.
“You alright, love?” he asked, pulling me back to reality.
“Perfect, thanks,” I said, detangling myself from him and righting my clothes.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this. But… I don’t know, you intrigue me,” he paused momentarily, his gorgeous eyes roaming my body. “Want to come back to my place and carry on?”
I laughed, and despite his offer being seriously tempting, I told him a firm no. I picked up my handbag, rummaging within it for my phone. What time was it?
“At least tell me your name,” he teased.
“Why ruin the fantasy? You got what you wanted and so did I, let's just leave it at that,” I said with a smile. Because I couldn’t stop smiling, even though I’d tried. He’d somehow fucked me senseless, leaving me satiated and grinning like an idiot.
“What if I want more?” he mused, his head tilted to the side, suddenly looking a lot more predatory, and I was reminded that I was alone, in an alleyway with this stranger, as handsome as he was.
I quickly shot a text to my regular taxi driver, Phil, praying and hoping he’d have availability.
He usually worked the weekends and had often picked me up from this club.
“Then you’d be out of luck,” I said, waving my phone at him as we walked back to the front of the club. “I’ve already booked a taxi.”
He clicked his tongue and chuckled softly.
“Alright, but at least let me wait with you and see you into that taxi safely.”
I considered it and I supposed there was no harm in that. My gut told me he was a decent guy, and besides, we were out the front of the club now, in the busy street. What could he really do here? “Alright,” I agreed.
“So… do you come here often?”
I let out a huff of a laugh at that and replied with a question rather than an answer. “Do you?”
He shoved a hand into his jean pocket. “I’d be lying if I said no. I work hard and party harder. Can’t say I’ve seen you before, though. I know I’d remember you.”
That earned him a genuine smile as I looked down to my phone to see a text from Phil letting me know he’d be with me in five minutes.
Thank the heavens. Although, in just five minutes I'd never see this handsome stranger again. Part of me wondered if I’d regret my decision to not learn his name later, but who was I kidding, I didn’t want a relationship.
I didn’t even want the hassle of friends with benefits.
No, this was a once and once only kind of shag.
“I suppose you have easy pickings here, huh?”
He chuckled. “I suppose,” then he paused for a moment, his hooded eyes raking over me again. “But there’s only one woman I’m interested in right now and she’s standing right in front of me. I have a feeling there’s no point in asking for your number though, is there?”
“You guessed right.”
He feigned heart break just as my taxi pulled up and I hurried off into it, leaving him with nothing but a grin.
Goodbye, random hot guy.
Maybe in another life we could have been something.