Candice And The Cocky King

21 Wolven Street,

4th Avenue, Nashville Tennessee, USA.

She hurried along the alleyway, her heart beating in her chest as she walked along this lonely dark street.

Her eyes darted around, and she looked behind her for the hundredth time.

No one was in sight, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed.

The hair stood on her neck, goosebumps covering her body and crawling up her skin.

She turned into the major street, and finally she saw the neon signboard of the bar.

She let out a breath of relief.

She was finally here.

She hurried up the few meters to the entrance and stopped.

Taking a deep breath, She pulled her hair to the side and adjusted the helm of her short skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles.

Popping a mint-flavored gum into her mouth, She opened the bar door and walked in.

A hefty cloud of cigarette smoke wafted through the air, rushing into her nostrils. She barely kept herself from sneezing. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she scanned the dark room.

She scanned the place looking for....

"Trust me, Candice, when you see him, you will know. He always stands out in a crowd," Bernice had said.

Shrugging away her thoughts, She squinted through all the smoke, peering at the tables, looking for anyone who might stand out....

There!!!

At the far end of the wall, there was a huge man, immaculately dressed in an expensive suit that looked to be customized, and perfectly fitted to his body.

His looks screamed wealth, taste and class.

His face was a sculptor's dream. Broad chin with high cheekbones, a flawless straight nose, full lips, and eyes the color of gold coins. A very gorgeous appearance. What was even more distinct was the long mane of black locks that fanned down his shoulders.

He was clean-shaven, neatly composed with an aura of confidence, unlike the hollow-eyed, haggard-looking men littered around this bar.

While most of them looked average, he looked like he owned the damn place.

He was sitting alone with a tall glass of untouched beer in front of him.

Taking a wild guess, she walked straight to him.

She took the opposite seat in front of him and held out her hand, "Sorry for keeping you waiting, I had some delay."

He didn't take the handshake, he just stared at her.

She withdrew her hand feeling awkward. "You are Mr. Wayne Wyatt? Correct?" she inquired, trying to be certain.

An emotionless face stared back at her. "Yes, who's asking?"

"Nice to meet you. Have you been waiting long?" She asked, unsure of his cold reception towards her.

He looked away from her, ignoring her presence completely.

She felt taken aback. "It's me Candice, your date for tonight."

His head snapped back to her and a flash of surprise crossed his face as he gave her an ounce-over look, then slowly asked, "You are Candice?"

His eyes traveled the length of her body, from the low-cut V of her top, showing off her boobs, all the way down to the high slit that revealed her pale thighs.

"Yes," she answered, as her confidence began to fade.

She was uncomfortable under his piercing gaze, he seemed to be looking at her from head to toe, searching her, disapproving of what he saw. His eyebrows creased together with a frown.

What had he been expecting?

She felt her face redden with embarrassment. She was beginning to wonder if she'd made a mistake dressing this provocatively.

The ladies at the office who always got huge contracts, told her that men easily complied with women who were alluring, sexually attractive and fun-loving.

One boldly said, "If you continue to play by the book girl, you will never sit at the table."

Another whispered in her ear, "Nobody is asking you to sleep with the clients, just play along with them and get what you want. That's how we do it."

While she didn't believe she needed to roll over on her back to strike deals. However, it had already been two years working at the real estate firm and she'd always fallen short of her monthly target.

Her Boss, George, had begun to lose patience with her. He outrightly told her to prepare her resignation letter by month's end if she didn't land a major contract.

So, when an anonymous offer came in from a huge investor, Bernice, her best friend and colleague had jumped at it, rapidly securing a date for her, before anyone else at the office got a hold of it.

She desperately needed this deal if she was to meet her target this month.

If she loses her job, her life was practically over.

Right now, she was barely managing to pay her rent from her paltry commission. She would be sleeping on the streets, if this deal fell through.

Pride and self-preservation were a fleeting notion when it came to survival. She was willing to give it a try and go out of her comfort zone to achieve her goal.

Crossing her legs in front of her, she watched her skirt ride up her thighs, exposing more of her supple flesh to him.

She would tease him, seduce him, show him what he liked, get on his good side, and then attack him with her documents.

With that solid resolve in mind, She leaned on the table and grabbed his beer. Letting her cleavage linger on the tabletop, ensuring he got a good view of it, before straightening up to gulp down the entire glass of beer.

She wiped the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand, then looked at him seductively, batting her eyelashes at him.

Powerful grey eyes stared back at her in astonishment. "Why did you drink that? All at once!" he exclaimed.

She was never a fan of alcohol, but right now she needed all the confidence in the world to pull this off.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I be? I feel great," She replied, then asked. "Can we go somewhere else? This place seems rather noisy and too dark to have a serious conversation. I have better choices in mind," she suggested, as a low throb started in her head.

Her speech had begun to slur with a wave of dizziness washing her.

The man before her gave her a long silent look, his stare seemed to be calculating, as if he was trying to make a decision, and then a cynical smile turned up the corner of his lips.

"Indeed, what do you propose?" he asked, with a dubious glint entering his eyes.

"Just anywhere private for us to discuss more personally," She explained as a second wave of dizziness washed over her.

She was already drunk on just one glass of beer. Even though she rarely drank alcohol, surely one glass couldn't get her to this point, this quickly.

He was quiet and was watching her intently. She clutched her handbag close to her, needing to stay focused if she was to succeed.

"Are you sure you won't regret this?" he finally, asked.

"What's there to regret about?" She shrugged.

"Good," he said, rising to his feet.

She stood up also, then wobbled on her feet. "WTF?" She mused low to herself.

"Do you need some assistance walking?" he asked, coming over to put a supporting hand on her back, holding her up.

At his contact, the atmosphere cackled around us with an invisible force. Time seemed to stop, as his stunning grey eyes bore into her hazel ones.

Her body trembled from the energy that sipped into her from the feel of his warm fingers, spreading along the expanse of her back.

Up close, more of his features shone brightly, like the tiny white cowries that were interwoven with his dreadlocks, the natural glow of his skin that looked like it was sun-kissed and lathered in alabaster oil.

Overall, he had the features of someone from the Caribbeans.

Beautiful islands, clear coastal seas, blossoming flowers, and a lovely horizon.

She thought wistfully to herself as she felt her eyelids grow heavy with darkness clouding her vision into oblivion.