"Claudia?" Ella asked, forgetting to hide her disgust. What a horrible name! Claudia, what sort of loving parents would name their child Claudia? That's almost on the same level as child cruelty! Gauging the stranger's reaction to her rude reply, Ella quickly backtracked. "That's a lovely name, it's a beautiful name. So . . . what's your name?"
                          
The stranger shrugged. "What's your name?"
                          
"Uh . . . I don't know if I should tell you that," Ella said. She had a reputation in the pub for being the leader of a string of bar brawls, with a list of injuries inflicted upon others like broken noses and fractured ankles. "How about fake names?"
                          
"Okay," the stranger replied slowly.
                          
"Hello there, the name's Sally," Ella said brightly, holding her hand out to him.
                          
He shook her hand carefully, almost like it might detonate. "Ryan," he said.
                          
"Nice to meet you Ryan."
                          
"You too Sally."
                          
Ella lit up another cigarette, letting it hang between her lips while she shoved her pack back into her skirt pocket. "So Ryan, what do you do for  a living?" she asked. "Before you throw the question back, I am currently jobless."
                          
'Ryan' downed the rest of his drink and made a gesture at Dave that asked for another one. As it was placed in front of him, he said, "I'm an actor." 
                          
"Oh," Ella said frowning. A wannabe actor. There were plenty of those in LA. "Well, good luck with that. Would I have seen you anything?"
                          
"Catching Fire?" Ryan asked. 
                          
Ella's frown deepened. "Is that a play or something?" she asked back.
                          
Ryan opened his mouth to answer with a confused frown when Ella fell off her seat with a yelp. She quickly jumped to her feet and tried to make it look like she had meant to do it. "Sorry. I may be a tad tipsy," she said. She looked at Dave, who's back was turned on them, and leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle. Ryan looked behind the bar as well, pulling himself over and grabbing a bottle of whiskey. Ella tilted her head as she watched him do so.
                          
Damn, he had a hot ass. The 'I want to stick my hands in his back pockets' sort of ass. To Ella, a nice ass meant a lot. Not because she was self centered or depended on looks, she just loved guys with a slamming backside.
                          
They hurried away to hide in the girls' bathroom before Dave saw them, breaking open the seals on their bottles and drowning their sorrows.
                          
Next thing she knew, they were kissing.
                          
Ella grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket down to her level so his lips connect with hers.
                          
“Someone’s eager," he stated, smirking. She shut him up with another kiss, this time standing on her tip toes to deepen the kiss. Ryan grunts and entangles his hand into her long brown locks. He pushes her back up against the side of the cubical earning a small shiver from me. Ella growled, 'I don't think so, pretty boy,' she thought. With a grunt, she pushed him backwards, never breaking the kiss and slammed him into the opposite wall so she was pressing his back against the wall.
                          
She looked him in the eyes and moved her hands to his chest, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders in an attempt to speed things up. She maintained eye contact with him as he tugged at her white tank top. Ella smacked his hand out the way and puledl the top over her head as her hair flowed around her shoulders. 
                          
“Don’t stare,” she muttered, following his gaze which lies on her chest. He shook his head as she pulled his shirt over his own head. She focused her eyes on his tattoo-an anchor that was inked onto his torso-but only for a second, her mind lay somewhere else.  She wriggled out of her denim skirt and kicked off her boots, making her somewhat shorter but no longer caring. She fumbled with his belt buckle and pulled it loose, making her able to pull his jeans down to his ankles while he took off his shoes: leaving him only in the confines of his boxers.