Chapter 2

                                    

                                          
Jennie
"What room did the sleazy fucker rent out?"
"Eight. Your guy is probably beating his dick as we speak, while waiting for you."
I grimaced. "You're disgusting."
"Come on, remember that one guy who was waiting for you, and by the time you stepped in, he came all over his pants and the couch." Jisoo was cackling at this point. I had to remind myself that I should never retort to violence because firstly, it's messy, and secondly, she is my best friend. Jisoo worked at the front desk of the club I danced at regularly. She had perfect ruler-straight black hair and big blue eyes that somehow matched her heart-shaped face amicably.
"I remember throwing up that day. He didn't even touch me, and I felt violated." I shuddered at the memory. I looked in the mirror and puffed up my hair before adding another layer of lip-gloss. "This guy is so slimy. I hate him." I muttered as I got up.
"What time do you get off tonight?"
"Three, you?"
"I have this dance then one more set. I'll see you at home."
We did air-kisses so I wouldn't ruin my makeup before she left the locker room to head out, and I made my way to the other side of the club to get to the VIP section. It was a long walk, especially in heels that needed replacing. Just add that to my list of shit I needed to buy. I kept to myself and clung to the silky black robe I had on until I finally made it. The two men that recognised me smiled at me as they saw me near them. "Hi, boys." I gave them a little wave as they pulled the rope out of my way and let me in.
The room wasn't blinking and flashing lights like they usually were, and the sleazy asshole that picked the room wasn't even in here. There was an actual couple just sitting in here, drinking and talking. I couldn't see one of them since her back was to me, but the woman on the other side of the couch looked appalled. She was dressed too elegantly, and even though this was a nice club, it wasn't that nice that she had to be wearing a Versace dress.
"You brought a dancer to this meeting?" I heard her say all riled up. "Are you serious, Lisa?"
"Dancer? What?" The deep, commanding voice belonging to the name Lisa spoke. She spun around to face me, and I was taken back by the pure rugged handsomeness that was this person. I didn't even know God made humans that looked like this anymore. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine cover.
I'd never seen her before, and I knew my customers. This one was new. The stiff arrogance and shrill intimidation seeped out of her with every step she took towards me, and the deadly combo had me eager to know whether she'd fuck me or kill me. I guess you could say I'm a little messed up in the head when it comes to my sexual appetite.
So? Fucking sue me then.
It didn't help that she was wrapped in a three-piece black suit like a Lucifer reincarnate, tempting me to hell's deep, dark depths. A mass of ominous black ink started from the tips of her fingers and wrapped around her, peeking out at the top of her broad chest and long neck. Every inch of her was shadowed with tattoos, marking her like the sinful person she was. The unknown person's hair was just as black as the ink that she had etched onto her skin and wild, dishevelled as her eyes. Her smoky grey eyes were so sharp, so intense, that she might as well have burned a hole right through me as I stared at her openly.
Her nose was crooked, almost as if it's been broken too many times to have healed properly. Hair as black as night sat on the top of her head, parted and combed back lazily, yet it fit her personality somehow.
Something about this person not trying too hard, as if perfection was overrated to her. A sharp jawline took place over the rest of her face, yet the only soft thing I noticed was her lips. Dark like berries and pouty enough to be seen as an invitation.