THE ACCIDENTAL HEIR

Lucy Pov: Sweaty bodies, Covered in beer, Being felt up every five minutes, And Avery is nowhere on site. Clubbing, you gotta love it right? If I'm honest, I enjoy going out but just not places like this: Dreams. Who calls a nightclub Dreams? If I wanted to get cocky, I'd say you wouldn't even drift off into space about this place, it's that terrible. The aroma of sweat and stale beer fills my nostrils, a hint of someone's aftershave or perfume sometimes wafting across my nose. But it's rare. As rare as Bigfoot if I'm honest; you get close to thinking you've found it, and then poof there's no such thing. Kinda like my current s*x life. Tried to find it, but it's not there. Extinct would be how Avery describes it. I don't usually do hook ups, or one nights with random guys. I prefer to be in a relationship, so seeing as my last relationship became non-existentaboutut three months ago, so has my s*x life. I mean I could probably get a hookup, there's plenty of takers right now. I've got about forty different pairs of desperate eyes on me as I squeeze through the throng of bodies, but that's probably to do with my outfit. Avery insisted I wear a tight black mini dress, and right now my boobs are spilling out the top and my ass is almost on show. Not my usual look, but apparently I needed to leave my comfort zone; that being jeans and a nice top. Personally, I don't see the problem, but Avery had a hard time dealing with it. So hard she started undressing me before I could even protest. Typical Avery: controlling and straight to the point. But hey, that's my best friend, and she's amazing. Apart from right now because I'm trying to manoeuvre through a sweaty, grope-fest of a club on my own. This always happened. Or at least eighty percent of the time it did. Avery was a blonde bombshell, gorgeous pale skin, lip fillers that made her lips plump, and tall with legs up to my shoulders. This meant that guys would fall at her feet, desperate for the hot bombshell to explode on their d**k. Literally. She always took someone home, without a doubt. I'd managed to push through the busiest part of the club, but I was still being stalked by a thousand pair of eyes. I just wanted to go home, curl up on the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate, and burn this dress. I was halfway to the bar - almost completing my mission - when some random i***t decided he had the balls to confront my dress attire. "Hey gorgeous, you know your ass is about to come out of that dress right?" Typical d**k. My body swivelled directly towards him, while my hand uncontrollably made contact with his chiselled jaw. It was hard, angular, and as sharp as the slap itself. I was practically hypnotised by the sight before me. He was off the charts, out of this world, gorgeous. You know the dark brown, dishevelled hair; five o'clock shadow - that he models perfectly; emerald green eyes; and muscles begging to be touched beneath his tight fitted, crisp shirt. You know that type? We all do. And god do I want a piece of that. I suppressed an eye roll at my alcohol consumed brain. What on Earth was I saying? He was clearly a d**k. He rubbed his face and gaped at me in shock. Maybe I didn't need to slap him, but he was getting on my last nerve by making that comment. I'd dealt with enough tonight as it is from men. "You slapped me? I was being nice." He was still rubbing his cheek, a red tinge marring his skin already. Pushing the damage I'd done to the back of my mind, I wavered my arms around and looked at him in despair. Nice? He was being nice? What? Was he stupid? "Nice? You told me my ass was about to come out of my dress!" "Because it is" He said it so matter-of-fact with a nonchalant shrug, but I could see the fear behind his eyes; he didn't want another slap. quieten down before you get another, then. "Yeah but you didn't need to say it. I've had enough tonight as it is off desperate men." I spat the latter, enunciating it for effect, earning a wide eyed expression from his beautiful green eyes. The wider they got the more they sparkled from the above spotlights. "I'm not desperate." He gritted his teeth. "Is that why you started off with calling me gorgeous?" I raised my eyebrow at him, and watched as he struggled with a reply. "Because you are. I was being nice, I don't see how I deserved a slap for that. You got all these men-" he wavered a finger around the room "-eyeing you like they want to eat you up, and I was trying to help you out a little. You don't seem the type." What? "One, you couldn't see my face. And two, you don't know me." Although he's right I'm not the type. I wasn't even sure why I was shouting at him for this. He scoffed, and laughed at me; throwing me a sexy smirk as he studied my face. "Maybe not, but with a body like that," he looked me up and down with lust filled eyes. "And now I can see your face, I'd say gorgeous isn't the right word." I was about to slap him again. But instead I gritted my teeth, and placed my hands on my hips. I went to open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind and he placed his index finger there to shush me. Oh now he's really pissed me off. "I'd say you're out of this world stunning actually." He leaned closer, the warmth from his breath sliding across my face. His deep voice caused an eruption in my throat and chest, sending a pool of heat south. He laughed as he watched my face drop and form a shocked expression. Only I'd say I probably looked more startled. I was a little taken back. He seemed like the type that could get any woman in bed, so maybe this was a line he used when he struggled? "Say that to all the women who don't seem like an easy lay?" His deep, sexy laugh was out of control this time. He didn't stop. "Your feisty. I like it." He smiled, what I believed was a genuine smile, and introduced himself. Completely ignoring my question. "Bax." He held his hand out, and I had to pause before I got his name. Bax? "It's my last name." He could clearly see the confused look on my face. "Lucy. Do I not get your first name?" "No. I don't tell people it. Anyone. I'm referred to as Bax or Baxter." Desperation laced through his words and I decided to drop it. Weird. "Okay. So what does Mr Bax do?" He smirked, and gestured for me to follow him through the rest of the club. Hopefully, outside where we wouldn't need to keep shouting. My throat was starting to get sore. He placed his hands on my hips, and manoeuvred me in the direction he wanted us to go. Maybe I was too drunk, but I quite liked having his huge, firm hands grip me. Imagine what he can do with those fingers. That thought had me biting my lip, and I'm sure my cheeks were crimson. I could feel my panties getting wetter at his touch and my heart beat sped up. I never did this. I was never attracted to a stranger like this. What on Earth was I doing. "Here, let's go over there." He pointed to a small, round table which was surprisingly empty. We sat down, and he studied my face, as if he was waiting for something. "You going to answer my question Mr Baxter or not?" I leaned my chin on my hand, and waited for a response. "It's a secret." He wasn't joking. His face was hard and serious. He didn't want me to know, and I was a little bewildered. I wasn't expecting the man to fall in love with me, what was wrong with him? "Can I ask why?" "Maybe one day you'll know. What about you?" He shifted the conversation to me, and I went with it. Maybe he'd tell me later. "I'm a doctor." He was surprised. Yeah, people usually are, especially when I'm in clothes like this. "Surprised huh?" "Kinda, I didn't think you were supposed to wear things like that?" He pointed at my dress which showed more than it covered. "Yeah, I usually don't. My friend forced me to." I shrugged, and gave a nervous laugh. Your friend forced you to? Did she hold you at gunpoint Lucy? No. i***t. "You're too beautiful to be wearing something like that." Words can mean anything. Yes they make me gooey inside when I'm called that, but I'm more affected by the admiration, and lust in his eyes as he said it. They darkened, and narrowed as he gazed straight at me. I felt like the only girl in the room under his heated gaze. "Thanks." I automatically looked down from being shy. I always got like this when someone complimented me, I never truly felt that way about myself. "Hey, take a compliment." He put his hands under my chin to pull my eyes to his. "I did said thanks." I sounded more shy than I had all night. "Your words and your actions are two different things. The way you looked down told me you didn't accept that compliment." "I know it! You're someone who works on people's brains. What's it called? A psychologist or something?" He laughed, and that sound was heaven to my s*x. The deep rumble from his voice got me imagining all sorts of dirty images. I wonder what noises he'd make when he'd c*m all over me? I needed to stop, I was working myself up over a man I'd slapped in the face. I had no chance. He probably felt sorry for me because I looked like a w***e in this dress. "Don't change the subject, that's not what I do though I'll tell you that. Where is your friend though?" "Now you're changing the subject." He smirked and shook his head. "She's gone off with some guy to fuck." I said it so nonchalantly, like it was an ordinary sentence that comes out of your mouth. He didn't react though, he just looked at me, studying me again. Is he sure that's not his job? "What?" "Maybe she can say the same thing about you." He lowered his voice to a more sexy, husky tone. I was a little lost at first, and then I understood. My libido was definitely a fan of that idea. My whole body was trembling with need for this gorgeous species sat next to me. I wanted him in more ways you can imagine. I gulped when I noticed we'd been watching each other in a heated stare. I was in a trance, causing me to make probably the most rational decision possible. "She will be saying it." I looked him in the eyes, ensuring he fully understood my intentions. I got up, ushering him to follow me. He wasted no time, and I couldn't wait to get under him - or on top of him. I wanted him in every way possible. To be continued…