Dial A Stud. Dante: Dial A Stud

Chapter One

I swear, Mel, if I have to endure another man who thinks sex is all about mounting up and pounding away, like he’s a bloody pile driver, I’m changing my sexual orientation. I moaned as I took another sip of my glass of wine.

My flatmate and best friend Mel turned her baby blue eyes on me and grinned. You sure do know how to pick them Gracie girl. Still, for me, the best one of all was Bryan. Was it Bryan? That was his name, wasn’t it? You have to admit, he was smooth.

I snorted and sprayed wine over myself. Yeah, he was a charmer alright. I guess after some reflection I should have guessed that when he asked if I wanted to fuck, that that was probably as good as it was going to get. Still, call me optimistic. I thought there would be a little foreplay first. I didn’t realise that when he asked if I wanted to fuck that he meant getting straight into it. Then to add insult to injury, as he’s pounding away sounding like an out of breath Bulldog, he asked if it was good for me too. I rolled my eyes. Maybe if he’d taken the time to find my clitoris, at some point during our lengthy three-minute encounter, I might have had a shot at coming.

Mel grinned again. You know, we should go somewhere. We’re a pair of sad saps, sitting here drinking wine and reminiscing about our history of lousy lays. Saturday night and we’re home. Girls of our age should be out, painting the town red, or some shit at least.

I don’t want to go to the club. I’ll drink too much, let myself get picked up by someone who looks like a stud but who fucks like a lump of clay and have to sneak from his home in the dead of night, or kick him out of my bed, and finish off with the aid of B.O.B. I said. 

Well, what do you want to do? Mel tipped her head back and swallowed the last of her glass of wine.

We could go and see a movie? I suggested, raising a questioning eyebrow at my best friend.

I suppose that would be ok for a change. Let me grab the paper so I can see what’s on. Mel jumped up and disappeared from the room.

I flopped back on the lounge, drained the last of my wine, placing the empty glass on the coffee table. If we were going out I didn’t need any more. I had a very pleasant buzz going on now as it was.

Melanie burst back into the living room with her usual boisterous enthusiasm. There was no such thing as quiet and subdued with Mel.

She held up the paper, shaking it at me. I found it. She announced, as if she’d just discovered the cure for Aids. She dropped down on the corner of the coffee table and began to thumb her way through it.

So, what’s on? I asked, starting to feel slightly sleepy now the wine I’d been drinking, had settled in my stomach.

Without lifting her head, she told me to stop being so impatient, as she flipped through a few more pages, as noisily as she could, and finally fell silent, reading for a while.

Well? I tried again.

Mel started laughing. Oh my god Grace. Her eyes lifted from whatever she was reading and met mine over the paper. You’ll never guess what I just found.

Well, I’m guessing it’s not the list of what’s on at the cinema that’s got you looking like you just won the lottery? Well, unless they’re bringing us the Fifty Shades of Grey movie earlier than February that is?

Pale blonde brows drew together over her blue eyes. Don’t be stupid. If it was that, I wouldn’t be sitting here now wanting you to guess what I’m reading. I’d be running to the cinema to get a good seat, and you know I don’t run for anything.

Now that is true. I grinned. Even for a good-looking man I haven’t seen you so much as speed up to a powerwalk.

Melanie laughed. My mother always told me, a lady doesn’t run. She should never exert herself in any way that might result in her perspiring. She threw her head up, nose in the air. A woman perspires. Did you know that? We don’t sweat. That’s too common apparently. It would also be considered very inappropriate to chase a man. She rolled her eyes at me. Now you can see why I had to move out of home? I would have ended up like her if I’d stayed.

You might make a shitty daughter, but you make a great friend and housemate. I told her and she leaned forward so we could hug briefly. When she sat upright again, I gave her an expectant look. So, are you ever going to tell me what it is that you read in the paper that got you so excited?

Mel’s eyes lit up as she turned the paper towards me. Check this out? This might be just what you need.

My eyes dropped to the newspaper and scanned it to see what it was that had my friend so excited. At first all I saw were advertisements for weight loss, hair replacement therapy, and erectile dysfunction. Then I saw it, I saw what Melanie wanted me to see.

It was an ad. Fairly obscure in appearance, almost hidden amongst the larger, flashier looking ads. Curious, I leaned in for a closer look and slowly began to read it, out aloud.

Is your love life lacking lustre?

Are you stuck in a cycle of dead end relationships?

Has the spark gone out of your sex life?

Would you like to make your fantasies a reality?

Set your own sex scene.

We can cater to all your needs.

M/F, F/F, M/M, M/F/F, M/M/F

Why don’t you give us a call?

Dial a Stud Services Inc.

I raised my eyes from the ad and met Mel’s blue ones. Are they joking? Is this for real?

She shrugged. I don’t know but the scary thing is; it’s like that ad is directed at us. Well, more you than me because, let’s face it, your sex life is shittier than mine.

I poked my tongue out at her. Oh, shut up Mel. Yours isn’t much better, and you know it. When was the last time, a man, any man got you off?

For your information, Sam was pretty good. He was the last one. We might have had something come of it if he didn’t land that job overseas.

Maybe so. My attention returned to the ad. So what do you reckon this Dial a Stud is? It can’t be real, surely? What do they mean; set your own sex scene? They seem to be implying they can cater to anyone’s sexual orientation.

I don’t know Gracie but imagine if it’s legitimate. A team of men and women ready to serve us. Oh, the possibilities. Just think; you could live out that fantasy of yours you once told me about.

I nodded. Well, there is that I suppose. I don’t know why I want to experience two men. If it’s no good, it’s double the disappointment. Not to mention I hate the thought of anal sex, but something about seeing those short videos on line, of two men doing the one woman, gets me all hot and bothered.

Why don’t you give them a call?

I shook my head. I can’t call them Mel. It would be too embarrassing. I’m not sure I could face up to that level of intimacy with two strangers.

Mel laughed. You do it all the time. You don’t know any of those men you fuck with when you get picked up at the club.

Thanks for making me sound like a slut. I said dryly. A, I don’t do it all the time. We don’t go out all that often for me to be picking up strange men, and B, I’m usually drunk or not far off it when I go home with these men or bring them home with me. The alcohol dulls things enough, so I don’t care. I’d be too embarrassed to face being double plugged sober. Plus, I’m not your typical size 8 girl, Mel. I need the man to have been drinking too so he’ll look past, or just no longer give a shit, that I’m a fuller bodied gal. Something tells me these ‘studs’ won’t be half tanked by the time they come to fulfil someone’s fantasies.

Fucking hell Gracie, will you stop putting yourself down. You’re beautiful and you have the kind of figure that a lot of women would envy you for. Have you ever really looked at yourself? Men want to fuck you because they think you’re beautiful and sexy, not because they’re drunk and can’t focus enough to see you anymore.

You’re my best friend, you’re supposed to tell me how wonderful I am, what a genius I am, and how I’m like a siren drawing men to me with my beauty and intelligence.

Mel snorted. Get your ass off the lounge woman and come with me. She jumped up, taking my hand and dragging me up with her. Knowing what she intended doing made me reluctant to follow her, and I dragged my heels in an attempt to stall the inevitable.

She didn’t release me until we reached my bedroom and I had been roughly pushed into position before the full-length mirror, mounted on one of the doors of my built in cupboard.

Now look. My chin was gripped firmly as I was forced to look at myself. Trouble was, with Mel’s fingers digging into my chin, they had pulled my bottom lip into some ridiculously grotesque twist, so if she was trying to prove I was this gorgeous creature she spoke of, it was a fail.

So thwat ars u twying thu pwoove? I tried to ask, but I only ended up speaking some sort of intelligible gibberish.

What? Mel’s facial expression nearly made me burst out laughing. Well I would have if she’d have released me, but if she didn’t let go of my chin soon, I was more than likely going to start dribbling over her hand.

I tugged at her hand and finally she seemed to get the message and released me. Now look at yourself Grace. Have a close look at yourself and see what all the rest of us see.

Shaking my head at her I finally turned to look at my image in the mirror. I studied the woman staring back at me and still couldn’t figure out what Mel thought was so good. Ok, I wasn’t a complete shocker. I knew that much, but compared to her very petite frame, I was considerably taller and heavier.

Standing five foot nine inches, I had the classic hourglass figure, all hips and boobs. In my opinion, my legs were my best feature, long and with nice shapely calves.

My hair was a rich chestnut brown that fell to just below my shoulders in soft waves. Unlike Mel, I didn’t have eyes that were an outstanding colour, they were simply brown or hazel as some would say.

I was lucky to have fully pouty looking lips though, and I’d also been blessed with good skin. I didn’t have any freckles and I’d never really had an issue with acne, even as a kid.

I knew, overall, I wasn’t too bad but part of my insecurities came from my childhood. I’d been overweight and kids can be mean. I’d been given horrible names and the trouble is, shit like that sticks. It was all the cruel names that had led to that time of my life I tried not to think about. Although I’d slimmed down once I got passed puberty, with a combination of diet and exercise, I still thought like an overweight person with all the self-esteem issues that come with it.

Well? You’re awfully quiet Gracie girl. Mel’s voice brought me back from my troubled childhood and I smiled at her.

You’ve made your point. I get it. I’m not Frankenstein’s daughter, I get that. I just...I just... I trailed off and I felt her arms come around me.

I know Grace. I remember what it was like for you. Those kids were asses, and I bet they’re nothing more than loser asses now. You’re beautiful, smart and funny. Now, are we going to stand here all night and be a couple of sad saps together? We’re twenty-four-year-old women and twenty-four-year-old women shouldn’t be home on a Saturday night. So, is it to be the club, cinema or will you call and get yourself a stud or two? She began to dance around the room singing. Who you gonna call? Dial a Stud.

I rolled my eyes. That’s terrible, and you can’t sing. Don’t give up your day job. I told her. I’m not calling Dial a Stud. I can’t do that. I sighed. Fuck it. Let’s go and get ourselves plastered.

There’s a man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off you. Mel shouted in my ear as we danced to the loud music.

I rolled my eyes at her to indicate I didn’t care, but I still found my attention drawn towards the bar as I searched for someone who might appear to be looking our way.

Are you sure he’s not looking at you Mel? I yelled in her ear. That dress looks amazing on you. It did too. The blood red dress hugged her slim body to perfection. Her bob cut blonde hair was stuck to her neck and brow from exerting herself dancing, and her heavily made-up face glistened with perspiration. Even flushed from dancing she still looked sexy, and those vivid blue eyes of hers stood out brightly against her long mascara darkened lashes and black eyeliner.

Despite her assurances that I looked good, I still felt frumpy in comparison to her. After trying on nearly every item of clothing I owned, I’d finally settled on a corset dress. The fabric had a shiny appearance and was purple, but the entire dress had a black lace overlay and the straps that zigzagged their way up the back were also in black. It was strapless, fitted very firmly over my breasts and waist, before flaring out in an uneven hem. The front was short, finishing about mid-thigh, but the back of the skirt was down almost to my ankles. I wore black high heel shoes and my hair was twisted up in a messy bun with strands of hair hanging down that framed my face.

Shit, shit, don’t look now, he’s coming over. Mel’s excited voice was enough to make my heart start pounding.

I bet he’s coming for you. I said.

Nah, it’s you he’s been watching all evening and...oh my, he’s yummy. I saw her eyes widen.

I still think you’re wrong Mel. He’s here for you I bet. Dammit, I need to have a look at this stud that has you so wound up. I started turning. You need to get laid. You think every man you... My words trailed off when I found myself confronted by a trim waist. The lower half of his body was dressed in black jeans and black boots. He wore a wide belt with a chunky buckle, but I didn’t stop there. A part of me didn’t want to look higher. I was embarrassed because he may have heard my words to Mel. Still, the urge to see if the rest of him was as good as what I could see of the bottom half made it impossible for me to look away.

My eyes slowly continued up over a trim waist, broad chest, wide, really wide shoulders, tanned neck, and then I reached his face.

The first thing I noticed where his lips; full, sensual and presently curved up in a hint of a smile. He was clean shaven, although I saw the dark shadowing over his jaw. A dimple winked enticingly in one cheek which made my heart flutter. I was a sucker for a nice dimple.

His nose was straight, but it was his eyes, when mine finally met his that set my heart off like a runaway train. They were brown and normally I’d be kind of ‘blah’ over brown. I was with my own, but on this man, they were like a rich chocolate and they seemed to suck me in, so it was impossible to look away.

He had beautifully shaped brows too, and I wondered if he had them waxed or plucked. They were just so perfect, and his eyelashes were indecently long. No man should have lashes like that. It wasn’t fair.

Finally, my eyes continued upwards to his hair. It was dark, nearly black, but not quite. He wore it slicked back in a small ponytail low on the back of his neck.

As I stared at him one perfect brow arched up and I saw the corner of his beautiful mouth tip up, making me realise that I’d gone from a curious look to blatant staring.

God I’m sorry. You want my friend? I asked, gesturing vaguely over my shoulder in what I hoped was Mel’s direction.

Actually it is you that I came over to see. Would you permit me to dance with you? His voice was deep with a hint of an accent, or at least I thought there was, from what I could hear over the noise of the music.

I well...I...well...I...ok...yes I guess so. I finally managed to spit the words out, cringing at my pitiful behaviour in front of this god like creature staring down at me.

I turned to Mel, who was staring at the god and looking about as star struck as I felt.

He reached out and surprised me by taking my hand, his grip firm and his skin warm as his fingers closed around mine.

As if perfectly orchestrated, the song that had been playing finished and the next one that started up was a slow song. I swallowed hard, as if I had a piece of week old bread stuck in my throat, as the god pulled me into his arms. One arm wrapped around my waist, where I could feel the heat of his fingers spread out, over the lacing of the corset top of my dress. He still held my hand in his other one, but he moved it so it was positioned between our bodies, resting against his chest.

I’m pretty sure my heart executed a perfect backflip behind my breast being this close to this stunning creature. He began to move in time to the music, his movements fluid and strangely sensual.

I don’t think he was trying to be sensual or dance sexy. It seemed to be a natural thing for him, and I knew I’d be gone if I stayed in this man’s arms too long.

Mel and I had made a pact before we left home that we wouldn’t pick up any men tonight. I had to shake my head at the cruel twist of fate that had delivered this perfect example of the male species to me, and me not be able to do anything with him should the situation arise at all.

I turned my head and met my friend’s eyes. She was to one side and partially behind him, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she gave him the once over from the back. I could only assume that her reaction meant he looked just as good from the back as he did from the front.

As we slow danced, my mind was filled with a thousand questions but it was so loud in the club and this was not the time, nor place, to speak. For now I just wanted to feel, and holy fuck, I was enjoying the feel. Of course, as our bodies shifted against one another, I had to rein in my desire to run my hands over him. Hell, I didn’t want to just touch the man; I wanted to wrap my body around him like a second skin.

Of course I didn’t, although it took all my self-control not to do it. I did raise my head though and as subtly as possible, pressed my nose into the side of his neck, breathing deeply. God, the man smelled divine. There should be a law against a member of the opposite sex being this incredibly sexy.

With every brush of his thighs against me and with every touch of our bodies, I felt my resolve weakening.

I will not invite this man home with me. I will not invite this man home with me. I began the mantra in my head as I struggled to block out his touch, smell, everything about him that had me nearly in a puddle of need at his feet.

When the music finally stopped, I hastily extracted myself from his arms. No way in hell would I be able to get through another few minutes in his arms.

In my frantic haste to extract myself from his highly addictive touch, I stumbled and realised that I was about to add the ultimate humiliation to this evening; I was about fall flat on my ass.

Knowing me and my luck, that would mean legs up in the air, flashing my wares at the man. He was seriously hot and the reality of it all was I wanted nothing more than to be on my back, legs spread as far as I could spread them, but not like this. Not sprawled out on the dance floor, surrounded by other people dancing.

Before I could put into motion the humiliating scene playing out in my head, I felt a strong arm circle my waist and my backwards momentum was halted. Instead I found myself being propelled forward so fast I stumbled again on my high heels, cursing my natural clumsiness.

I slammed into a chest that was so hard it was like hitting concrete. He must work out like a mother fucker to be so heavily muscled.

I expected the non-green version of the Incredible Hulk who stood before me, and who had saved my less than dignified tumble to the dance floor, to keep me upright this time too. When in actual fact he stumbled backwards, probably due to me crashing against him with all the elegance of a Mack truck. I was surprised when I felt us beginning to fall.

It seemed it was too late to stop it. The inevitable was happening. We were going down, and not in a good, sexual way. On our way down, I did see the crowds of dancers around us turn to witness our fall, and not one person jumped forward to try and save us. If anything it was like the parting of the Red Sea, with everyone hastily stepping sideways to give us a clear, uninterrupted patch of dancefloor to land on.

Even with the gorgeous stranger to cushion my fall, it still jolted me when we landed. That was probably because there didn’t seem to be anything soft on that man at all. He was hard, glorious, muscle on muscle all the way down his body. I knew this, because I was practically adhered to him and could feel every one of those incredible muscles.

This might have been fun, had we not been sprawled out on a crowded dancefloor. A bed and no clothing between us, not to mention all the people around us gone, would have really sweetened the deal.

Chapter Two

We lay there probably beyond what might be considered a normal time and still we continued to lie there, sprawled out on the dance floor, until we got into kind of creepy, been there too long, time.

My startled eyes met his and I saw something flare in their beautiful chocolate brown depths. His lips parted as he drew in some much needed air and I realised that he was panting slightly, as if out of breath.

Still we lay there, staring at one another. I made no effort to get up, even though the people around us had obviously decided we weren’t so interesting anymore and had gone back to dancing.

Finally I wiggled a bit in an effort to get him to release me so I could try and stand up, although I was already stressing about how dignified that would be in my tightly laced corset dress and high heels. Actually thinking about my dress suddenly made me conscious that the girls may have made an effort to escape the confines of the bodice, after my unscheduled tumble to the floor.

I tried to lift the top half of my body off the wall of muscle I lay on and gave a sigh of relief when I saw that there had not been any booby from bodice breakout as a result of my fall.

I squirmed again, knowing it was time to do this. I had to peel myself off this gorgeous man and stand up. It was only as I wiggled once more that I realised another muscle had come into play on my less than soft human pillow.

Something had definitely come up between us and my guess was he was happy to see me, not that he had a gun in his pocket. Knowing that he was getting hard under me didn’t do much to strengthen my resolve, not to drag him home with me, and literally fuck the man’s brains out. It was taking everything I had not to strip him naked and mount up right now, regardless of our location and audience.

I made one more desperate bid for freedom before I did the very thing my body was screaming at me to do and fucked him. It wasn’t working though. It seemed the more I struggled, the tighter his arm around my waist became.

Stop struggling. He said; his deep voice and that trace of an accent, instantly making me freeze. Dammit I was doomed, doomed to spend my days lusting after what was probably the finest looking male I’d ever seen. How could a voice instantly have me wet? Seriously, it was unfair that not only was he sexy as sin to look at and smelled divine, but he also sounded incredibly sexy when he spoke. His voice should be licenced and sold as a guaranteed aphrodisiac.

We can’t lie here all night. I hissed, suddenly desperate to get up off the floor before he learned of the shame taking place inside my panties.

I can’t get up because your constant fidgeting has given me a hard on. He tilted his hips up subtly so no one else would notice, but I sure as hell did. Once we get up I don’t want you to run away. I would like to get to know you.

I listened to that sinfully sexy voice wash over me and marvelled at how he could make everything going on around us, the dancers, the music, everything, fade when he spoke.

I lifted my head to the crowds around us and met Mel’s eyes. I could see the questions in them and I rolled my eyes at her.

I need to get up. My friend is wondering what the hell we’re doing. I told the God below me.

I CONTINUED TO LIE on top of him for a few more moments, while people danced around us and the lights flashed through their kaleidoscope of colours above us.

I couldn’t seem to look away from those rich brown eyes, and yet I knew I had to snap out of it and get the hell up. I glanced around briefly, as if trying to mentally summon a bucket of ice water to throw over me, since I figured it was probably going to take something like that to make me move.

Finally I turned back to him and tried not to let myself get sucked in by those eyes and that face again.

Very well, but you will need to get off me first. He said, and I breathed a sigh of relief when my brain and body seemed to reconnect long enough for me to scoot off him as quickly as possible. Before I could do some totally undignified and probably not particularly ladylike scramble to my feet, he leapt to his with way more grace than I would have expected someone of his size to have.

A large hand appeared in front of my nose and carefully I slipped my smaller one into his, and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I immediately tried to step back but he wouldn’t release his grip on my hand, and instead turned, and began to push his way through the crowds until we were off the dance floor.

Once he had me off the dance floor he didn’t stop and continued walking until we’d left the disco area of the club and had moved to a considerably quieter room.

I turned in time to see that Mel was trotting along after us, and seemed slightly out of breath when we all finally stopped.

The lighting was much harsher in this particular room. It was brighter from a mix of overhead lights and several wall mounted lights positioned next to tables and oversized stuffed chairs.

My eyes shot up to the man who’d forced me to follow him and I think a part of me had hoped, that once I saw him under brighter lighting, that I would find him nowhere near as attractive as he’d been under the dim lighting of the disco.

I silently groaned when my startled eyes met the warm brown of his. Of course he was just as gorgeous in the light as he’d been in the near dark and I found it almost impossible to tear my gaze from his.

I finally managed to do so when reality struck me. I’d been dancing, sweating, yes, I sweated, not perspired, and I’d spent some time rolling around on this fine looking man on the dancefloor. My guess was; the end result of makeup, music, dancing and a tumble to the floor would not have been kind to me. At the very least I’d have racoon eyes, but more than likely my messy bun would look more like a bird’s nest had exploded on my head. 

Self-consciously I tried to smooth a hand over my hair but only succeeded in snagging my fingers in the tangle I had pinned on top of my head.

Let me. That deep voice spoke quietly, making me jump, and my eyes shot to his in time to see a hand coming out towards me. His fingers delved into my hair, and with surprising efficiency and gentleness, he removed the few clips holding it up. It tumbled down over my shoulders and again his fingers disappeared into it, combing through it. When he was obviously satisfied, he removed his hand, and I let the breath, I hadn’t realised I was holding, out with a noisy whoosh.

Thank you. I mumbled at him, suddenly unsure where to look or what to do next. My indecision wasn’t improved by the distraction of my best friend, standing out of his sights, waving her arms and mouthing something at me. I had no idea what she was trying to say or do but she looked like a dying fish out of water, mouth opening and closing while trying to direct an orchestra. That in itself was ridiculous of course, as fish couldn’t direct an orchestra.

Please, what is your name? You are a beautiful woman and I would very much like to put a name to your stunning face. Again his voice drew my attention. Hearing his words, and seeing the intensity of the expression on his face, sent my heart off on an erratic skip across my chest. It wasn’t just his voice though; it was that trace of an accent that did it for me.

Grace, my name is Grace. I laughed, a little embarrassed. It’s kind of ironic really that my parents chose to call me Grace. As you have probably already guessed, I am far from graceful.

He lifted a hand to me again and trailed his fingers down my cheek. At his touch, I felt the skin burn, as if on fire, from the contact with my cheek. I swallowed and fought not to show the affect he was having on me. This was crazy. I didn’t know him. I didn’t even know his name and yet he was having a profound effect on me.

What is your surname Grace? Please, do not be shy with me. I would like to get to know you better.

I stared up at him, trapped by those chocolate eyes of his, and broke one of my hard and fast rules by whispering to him. Cameron.

As soon as the word left my lips I gasped. What the hell was I doing? I never gave a man my surname. I didn’t want to risk having some jerk hassling me and who could track me down through my name. So this gorgeous, god like creature standing before me, staring down like I was his new favourite toy, was not a jerk. Well, he didn’t look like one at least, but still, I’d broken one of my own rules by giving him my full name.

Hopefully he wouldn’t smile at me or I’d be giving him my address, phone number and bank account details next.

It is a great honour to meet you Grace Cameron. His eyes were warm, a light blazing in them that caused my stomach to flutter in response.

I almost sagged when his gaze left mine, and shifted to Mel. Obviously she too felt the impact of his intense gaze because she looked like she was going to pass out on the spot. She began to glow. If it was possible for a human being to start glowing, Mel had discovered how.

Watching colour flood her cheeks, I couldn’t help it; I rolled my eyes at her reaction. I knew it was hypercritical of me to react like that, after literally ending up on the floor with this man, but given our resolve earlier to not let a man affect us, or sway us, neither of us were doing too well at it so far.

And who might you be? He asked her and I thought Mel was going to end up on the floor at his feet. What was it with the way he spoke? I had to find out where he was from originally. His accent was very sexy, and I’m sure it would be enough to have panties disappearing off women the moment he opened his mouth and spoke. In fact I bet he left a pile of broken hearts, salivating women, and smouldering panties wherever he went.

I WAS SO BUSY LETTING my imagination run away with me that I didn’t notice straight away that Mel and Mr Panty Melter had fallen silent, and were both staring at me.

I blushed and struggled to get my head focused on them again. He was probably thinking I was either unstable or an idiot at this point; a really clumsy, unstable idiot.

So are you going to tell us your name? Mel got in before I had a chance to, and I shot her a brief smile. Her brain had obviously kicked back into action quicker than mine. It must have been that time spent lying on the man on the dance floor that had delayed me returning to regular brain activity.

Mr Tall, Dark and Ridiculously Handsome, turned those eyes to me again and I actually staggered back a step. This was getting crazy now. How did any woman function around this man? Was he aware of it or did he just assume all women were not of sound mind because they probably all reacted the same way when standing before that much excessive gorgeousness.

Forgive me ladies. I was overcome before so much beauty; I neglected to give you my name. He said it so formally and even, nodded his head at us. He was not Australian, no way in hell. He was European. That was my guess anyway. He had such a polite, dignified, but strangely reserved way about him.

I was not only intrigued by him, but overwhelmingly attracted to him. So much so it was taking all my self-control not to jump the man’s bones right here, right now in the middle of the damn club. Hell, I’d even let Mel watch and much as I loved her, I wasn’t interested in having her as a spectator during any of my past sexual encounters.

My name is Dan. He said and I felt a momentary stab of disappointment.

Dan, his name was Dan? Ok, I had nothing against the name Dan, but he didn’t look like a Dan, and it wasn’t a very foreign sounding name. Maybe it was short for something, Daniel maybe?

It is very nice to meet you Dan, but if you will excuse me, I need to use the little girl’s room. Mel smiled at the pair of us and I shot her an alarmed look which she ignored, bitch.

She couldn’t leave me alone with this man. I needed a cock blocker. Hell, no he wasn’t trying to fuck me, so I didn’t need