It was the allure, a certain edge that he held, that attracted her. Distinguished, professional, sex appeal oozing from every pore.
Bodies floating around the room, spilling drinks on cashmere carpets, nonchalantly placing their foot over the marks, without apology.
Her mark was him, she watched for some time, waiting for the blondes to leave, his disinterest obvious. The look in his eyes, semi glazed, no attraction, nothing to peak his curiosity, as if he’d seen it all before. The wannabes. Keeping his attention, or so they thought, with their low cut dresses.
Holding his martini with one, whilst brushing back his hair with the other, dressed in an expensive well cut suit and white shirt, undone two buttons down from the neck, he looked like Adonis.
She moved to the couch, opposite from where he stood, sitting back, crossing her legs, her short black cocktail dress riding up her thigh, her gloss red stiletto tapping the air.
He would notice, she didn’t have to throw her shoulder length waves back or giggle high pitched like the fake blondes, or demand her breasts got his attention. She sat nodding, superficially smiling at the men who acknowledged her. She had a presence, like he and this is all she needed. Minutes passed, she checked her Cartier, fifteen minutes to twelve, fifteen minutes before he knew of her existence.
The guests were ushered towards the patio doors, bodies started milling waiting to proceed out for the festivities, she began to stand, only to see a hand reaching out to help her up.
She took hold, glass in hand, letting go of his grip to straighten her dress.
She smiled, nodded thank you and looked into his dark brown eyes.
He gestured for her to lead the way, so he could watch her from behind, her slender legs, the black layered dress, that draped her body. Her dark auburn hair that flung from shoulder to shoulder on the rhythm of her hips.
Out onto the lawns, fairy lights dangled amongst branches, lighting up the sky, a band inside the gazebo picked up their instruments ready to play again. The Marquee set up, with staff carrying silver trays of drinks. She grabbed another champagne of the tray, taking it all in, before walking to a lone tree at the back of the Marquee.
He grabbed another martini, his fourth, side stepping a little before regaining composure he walked towards her. She stood with her back against the tree, the moonlight highlighting the bronze foundation she wore. She was irresistible, a stranger, yet he felt he knew her, he was drawn to her elegance, the familiar air about her, that he couldn’t place.
He was standing in front of her now, breathing her in as the band picked up their instruments, leaning against the tree smiling, her lips wanting to be kissed. Her eyes met his, his beauty made her legs go weak.
They didn’t hear the countdown to midnight, or the band, as their lips met, their tongues hungrily exploring each other’s mouths. Fireworks began, rockets, pin wheels, colours, noise filled the sky welcoming the New Year.
He drew a deeper breath, looking in her eyes, that held a glint of satisfaction, his body stiffened as the blood pooled wider across his pristine shirt.
Thought I would try something different.