Deadly Attraction

Chapter 3.

It's yet another dull night of my pathetic CEO life and I'm wondering what exactly it is that I live for. I'm out with my stupid friends at my bar and I don't like the atmosphere here in the lounge. These guys all have girlfriends and they keep telling stories of their s****l escapades and crazy life styles while I sit here like a log of wood staring lazily at the dancefloor.

“Where's Emily?” Reynold, my best friend, teases me.

“England maybe?” I reply uninterested as I keep staring at the dancefloor.

“Who's Emily?” Jeremy's girlfriend giggles.

This one is a little annoying when she's drunk, but that's what Jeremy likes the most about her. Talk about unusual preferences. He calls it love but I think it's irritating.

“Jason's ex.” The table erupts in laughter as Luke quips about Emily as my ex.

“I didn't date her. I don't date women.”

“You like men then?” Jeremy teases and there's more laughter.

“Women are too much.” I glare at Jeremy.

“We're not.” The girls get defensive.

“Sure, if it helps you sleep at night.” I roll my eyes especially at Jeremy's girlfriend who's looking at me with evil cat eyes like she will pounce at any moment.

“What is it about women that makes you so opposed to dating them?” Luke asks me.

“I don't know, they have uncontrollable moods, they get too demanding and manipulative when they want things, and dating means I can't sleep with multiple women. So no thank you.”

“How is getting laid going for you these days?” Reynold teases me again and he receives a deadly glare from me.

“One day, you'll fall in love and it'll make sense.” Reynold's girlfriend, Ashley who has been quiet says.

“Won't happen.” I return my gaze to the dance floor.

Someone catches my eye. A woman. Chestnut hair and curves. I stand up and leave the table to get a closer look.

Amidst the pulsing energy of the club, this woman commands my attention as she moves across the dance floor. Her lithe frame is encased in a figure-hugging bodycon dress that accentuates her enviable curves.

The form-fitting fabric clings to her hips and thighs, subtly highlighting the natural sway of her body with each step. The dress's plunging neckline tastefully reveals the gentle slope of her décolletage, drawing the eye to her delicate collarbones and the smooth, glowing skin of her neck.

As she dances, her chestnut hair cascades in soft, bouncing waves, framing her striking features. High, defined cheekbones, full lips painted in a glossy rose hue, and eyes that sparkle with a mischievous confidence - her face is a captivating study in natural beauty.

With each swinging movement across the dance floor, the woman emits an electric self-assuredness. It is as if she is the sole focus of my attention in the room, her presence magnetic and utterly mesmerising amidst the pulsing music and flashing lights of the club.

I decide to watch her for a while. She's approached by a guy who indulges her in a conversation. They talk for a while and after she dances with him. He seems polite. No move is being made that shows he will get laid. Dumb guy.

She looks in my direction. Is she smiling at me? I keep my jaw firm. She looks away and keeps dancing with Mr Dumb guy. She was impressive before he came. Now she seems bored.

I should go rescue her.

Ass.

This girl's got ass. My c**k throbs in my pants now. Stupid mini me.

They're leaving the club - Chestnut hair and dumb guy. That's disappointing. Why smile at me and leave with him? Why do women like playing games? If you want me, approach me, don't smile at me and leave my club with someone else.

Does she expect me to chase after her? Like in the movies, where the guy sights the girl, eye contact is made a couple of times, girl ignores guy and affiliates with someone else, then guy goes after girl. Stupid. Sorry chestnut, I'm not that horny tonight.

Lies.

She looks at me again, longer this time.

And without a warning, they're out the door.

Poor me. I cuss under my breath and assure myself she wasn't worth it anyway. Even though I'm very certain I just lied to myself again.

I look around for another impressive ass but I see none. Now I regret not going after Chestnut hair. Maybe I could have had fun beating that guy up and taking her to my house.

With no hope of getting laid, I return to my seat and drown myself in Bourbon and the blood draining laugh of Jeremy's girlfriend. I really want to tell her about how annoying it is. But I don't. I'm an asshole, just not when I'm dealing with my friends, or their girlfriends.

I look at Reynold and his girlfriend and there's a longing I feel. Maybe having a girlfriend isn't so bad after all. Jeremy's girlfriend laughs again and now I hate women once again. f**k. My balls might dry up after all.