Persuasion

Everyone told me I’d regret it. The way I reeled in woman after woman. Using each one for as long as I needed to get what I want before abandoning them. Heartbroken, confused, madly in love with me. Maybe it’s in my nature. Maybe I’m just a douchebag. My mother insisted that I remain pure until I find my person. My soulmate. I’m 35 years old. Human men have a hard time practicing abstinence that long, nevermind, men like me. Men with superhuman needs and desires. And my mother knows this. While she doesn’t look a day over 40, her real age approaches close to 100. And having been on this Earth and with my father for decades upon decades, you’d think she’d give me some more grace and understanding. Guess she’s old-fashioned that way. 

No one was more surprised than me when I found her. From the moment I locked eyes with her from across the bar, I knew she was the one. Like I legitimately felt my body chemistry alter. Cliché? Maybe.The truth? 100%. I was also 100% confident that even if I did find my soulmate that it wouldn’t change my conquest for other women. One woman could never be enough to truly satisfy me. But here she was. All 5 foot 6 inches of her leaning over the bar trying to flag down the bartender. She’s been trying for at least ten minutes. Between her non confrontational manner and how busy the bar is, she can’t get an order in. Being a consistently high paying customer for the last handful of years, the staff know not to keep me waiting.

When the bartender approaches her, neglecting all the yelling patrons around, her eyes widen and jaw nearly drops. Her surprised reaction is adorable especially since she’s so flustered it takes her a minute to figure out what she actually wants to drink. Lucky for her, I’m going to give her everything she’s ever wanted or needed. Never again will she have to wait for anything. As the tequila tonic brushes against her pink lips, her gaze meets mine. On each side of the glass I can see her sly grin forming. That smile made my cold-blooded insides feel engulfed in flames for the first time in my life.

Before I know it, I’m by her side. I don’t bother to hide my heightened speed. Humans are so distracted whether their face is in their phones or high on alcohol and drugs. Turning to the guy next to my lady friend, my eyes lock with his as I tell him to fuck off and leave. Go anywhere really. I don't care. Just as far away from this woman as possible. He begins to fight me on it, but quickly listens to my direction and pushes off the bar top. My focus shifts back as a warm hand is placed on my arm. Her dark hair almost matches my jet black locks, but it’s her olive skin and green eyes that captivate me. Not once in my entire life have I felt speechless, especially with women. In fact, that’s the company I feel most confident in front of. But when she thanks me for getting her a drink I have a hard time continuing the conversation. Her hand moves from my arm and I’m left looking at the empty crease in my dress shirt. “I’m Becca.”

With her hand against my lips, it’s her who’s blushing now. “Nikolas. You can call me Nik.” It’s like her close touch calmed my entire body. My head feels less cloudy, but no more sane than when I arrived tonight. What had my atoms bouncing off the walls of my skin is now what’s settling them into place. As they start to announce last call, we’re both taken by the fact that we’ve been talking for hours. The almost pouty look on her face makes my stone heart start to crack. Quickly, I pay both of our tabs and pull her towards the exit. This night, or morning I should say, has only just begun. I can’t possibly part with her now. Her laughter behind me makes me speed up and push through the back door where I’m parked. As the rain pours down on us, we give each other worried looks until the mischievous smile returns to her face.

That’s it. Becca’s legs wrap around my torso while her arms spread out to catch as much of the rain as possible. I’ve never met someone who enjoys the pouring rain. Sure there’s people who like light summer rain or fresh spring rain, but not gray skies, loud, torrential downpour that likely causes flooding. “How are you enjoying this?” I shout up to her. Slowly, she looks down to me running her fingers through my hair before cupping my face on each side.

“Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

A smile grows on my face. She’s right. Why am I even questioning her lighthearted mood? After all, if it was just me caught in the rain I’d be furious that my custom pants were soaked. The moment I shake my head no, Becca crushes her lips onto mine. My fingers tighten their grip on her wet thighs to keep her in place. Our tongues fight each other for dominance as I back us into the brick building. Every time her fingers move across my skin it’s like electric currents shooting through my body. That’s when I realize. This is why no other woman was enough for me. This is why I never wanted to commit. Becca. Boy is my mother going to have a field day when I call her later.

My desire grows as our mouths break apart only for me to find her neck. Having her carotid artery just barely grazing against my canines almost pushes me over the edge. Get yourself together man. Taking a deep breath, my hand goes back to her jaw pulling her lips back to mine. Becca slows down the kiss even though there’s nothing I’d rather do for the rest of the day, hell, rest of eternity than put my lips back on hers. I can’t help but keep her in my arms for a few extra moments before letting her slide down my 6 foot 3 frame. Not wanting this night to end, I tell her we’re going to get breakfast. She could’ve made up some excuse like she was tired or she really should get home. But she didn’t. Because I think deep down, maybe she feels the same strong, supernatural pull that I do.

Grabbing her hand, we head to my tiny sports car. Little does she know, she’s never going to touch another door handle when I’m around. The fire red seats and smell of leather don’t seem to impress her and I find myself wanting to impress her. Needing to impress her. Every other girl swoons over my money, but Becca’s no ordinary woman. Not even close. So when I ask her where she wants to go, I don’t know why I’m surprised that she picks a small Ma and Pop diner on the edge of town. We may be slightly overdressed, but I don’t mind. After spending all night at the bar, they’re probably one of the only places open this early and I am ravenous.

With my hand on her lower back, we enter the diner as two of five other patrons awake at this hour. The older waitress behind the counter tells us to sit where we want and Becca leads me to a booth in front of a big picture window. While our food is being prepared, she looks around and asks me if I would judge her for getting a milkshake. I can’t help but laugh. Calling over the waitress, I nicely ask if she can bring over a milkshake for my beautiful friend, adding a pause for Becca to tell her what kind she wants. The older woman, who’s had a terrible mood the entire time, plainly tells us that they shut down the ice cream machine for the night and it doesn’t reopen until brunch time. To me, that’s just code for I’m too lazy to make it and clean up afterwards.

“Let me see what I can do”, I offer. By the turn down of her smile, I was not going down easy. Becca is getting her milkshake one way or another. She insists it’s alright and that she’s fine with coffee, but she’s quickly silenced with a kiss. Making my way to the front, I lean up against the counter turning to give Becca a wink before convincing my waitress acquaintance to bring what I asked for. She tells me about two more times that it’s a no go until she gets in my face to yell. Before she does, I stare into her eyes and command her. “You’re going to bring the milkshake she asked for over to our table as soon as you can. Understand?”. The quick nod in agreement makes me smile. But I’m quick to add one more thing. “Also, we just had a great night. Don’t ruin it with your shitty attitude, alright?”. Another head shake and I thank her before turning back to our table.

Becca is quick to ask me what happened, but I’m a closed book. After a few minutes of haggling, our now delightful waitress carries over a large vanilla milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. The way her face beamed when it was placed in front of her made my heart skip a beat. I’ve found it. The thing that makes her happy. It’s not cars or money. Life’s little joys like glasses of ice cream that are bigger than her stomach. She waits no time at all to dive in and start slurping away. When the glass is no more than half gone, her head pulls away with her eyes shut tight. Brain freeze no doubt. As our food is set down in front of us, Becca looks at me.

“How did you do it?”

“Are you saying my charm isn’t enough to win over ole Dot over there?”

Her smirk doesn’t cancel out her dramatic eye roll when she says, “You can’t be that good at persuasion”.