tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Predator Ch. 01

The Predator Ch. 01

byspyce©

He watched her at the bar, his dark eyes following her every move. He was a predator, dangerous yet charming when needed. He always sat in the corner, his back to the wall, a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. He had watched her come and go from the bar for almost a month. When he had first seen her come in, her shyness and vulnerability had beckoned to him, teasing his senses.

The first night she had come in, she was dressed almost conservatively for the bar crowd that were regulars, a denim skirt that hit barely above her knee, a button down blouse with the top two buttons undone and a pair a strappy sandals. Her long blond hair fell in waves down almost to the curve of her heart shaped ass. "An ass that was made just for my hand", he thought.

As the nights mingled into one another, her demeanor had changed, she still had the underlying shyness and he could still see how vulnerable she was, but this was his area of expertise. He could sense it, like a wild animal. He would have her; there was no doubt in his mind. He would take her, have her and be done with her when he grew tired of the game, and not before.

She liked to play pool and he liked to watch her lean into the pool table, her back arched and ass teasing him as she aimed her shot. He knew that she was aware of him, that she teased him and flirted with him from a distance. She tried to keep her eyes off of him, but he could always sense when her gaze fell on him...an unspoken curiosity. She just didn't know what the consequences would be playing with fire like she was. It was never anything blatant or suggestive...just a quick look, a soft fleeting smile, but her gaze never strayed for long and she was back to stealing quick glances at him. He knew that she could feel the electric energy between the two of them, even though they had never spoken. "Soon", he thought, "very soon and she will be mine."

Each night she would grow a little bolder, the skirt just a wee bit shorter than the previous one, one more button left undone, another drink. He knew she was trying to work up her courage, to drink away her shyness...and yet he continued to sit at his favorite corner table, sipping on the amber whiskey, the cigarette smoldering as usual in the ashtray, his dark eyes watching from hooded lids, not missing a thing.

She had just sunk the eight ball, winning the game against some drunk that had been staring down her shirt as she lined up her shot. The man in the corner had been watching the whole while, getting more and more angry as the drunk seemed to get more and more bold with his stares and comments. She was putting two more quarters in to the table to start another game as he walked up behind her, the echo of his cowboy boots against the tile floor sounding foreign in the bar. One look from him sent the drunk scurrying to the other end of the bar.

His deep gravelly voice soft in her ear, "may I have the next game?" She responded before turning around, "sure..." her voice trailing off as she turned to see who was behind her. A soft, almost inaudible gasp sounding as she looked up at him. She was only 5'4 in heels and he towered above her, 6'4 at least. His long chestnut hair falling to his shoulders. He gave her a long, slow smile as one of his hands reached up to rake his hair back out of his eyes. His smile turned into almost a grin as he looked into her eyes, her eyes looking like a doe caught in headlights. She glanced quickly around to see that the other bar patrons had slowly moved away, leaving them tucked in the back of the dimly lit area.

"Why don't you get the balls racked up while I get a fresh round of drinks," he said as he walked to the only entrance of the private room. She only nodded and began arranging the balls, her hands shaking almost violently. She was chalking her cue stick as he came striding back in, kicking the door shut behind him. The crash of the door startling her.

"Tequila, right?" he asked. She could only nod her head in agreement. Her dark, wide eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. He gave her another long, slow smile as he set down the 2 glasses.

"I'm Mike, but my friends call me Montana", he said. She looked up again at him, and nodded, her soft voice whispering, "nice to meet you, Mike." He tilted his head as he watched her intently, waiting for her to give her name. Her eyes had darted to the ground, her long lashes covering them. He waited a few minutes before finally saying, "I guess I will just call you little girl, ok?" Startled, her head snapped up, her voice just barely above a whisper, "oh....sorry...my name is..." He cut her off before she could complete her sentence, "...little girl", he stated. "No, my name is..." she tried to correct. "No", he interrupted, "your name is little girl because I say it is, got it?" Slowly she nodded, almost automatically dropping her lashes in subjugation. He smiled at her reaction, nodding his head slowly in a knowing way.

"Now, let's play", he stated. "Your break, little girl."

Slowly she walked to the end of the table, slowly bending over as she lined up the cue ball, taking careful aim, her hands still shaking. He leaned back against a bar stool, his long legs crossed at the ankles as he watched her, noting the shaking hands. She sent the cue ball smashing into the other balls, sinking two balls, a solid and a stripe. Slowly walking around the table, she is concentrating on her next shot, the click of her high heels almost the only sound in the private room, the jukebox had just played its last song minutes before.

"Nice shot", he exclaimed. "You're not some kind of pool hall hustler, are ya little girl?" he asked. She smiled shyly, slowly shaking her head, her voice soft, "no, not really, just lucky I guess, I only play slop-shot." He grinned, nodding, trying to ease her tension.

Turning back to the pool table, she bent forward, aiming and striking another ball with the cue ball, sinking it. Again she walked around the table, lining up her shot and sinking yet another one.

"Are you sure 'bout that, little girl?", he teased.

She looked up from her shot, smiled and nodded, "yes, quite sure."

Re-focusing on her shot, she lined up her stick, putting a little too much gusto into the shot, the white sinking instead. She had scratched. Smiling up to him, "see...just slop shot", she said.

He only nodded and stood up, slowly circling the table as she walked to a bar stool to lean against. Taking a sip from her drink and nearly choking. "This is straight tequila", she gasped, choking on the fire tracing its way down her throat.

Chuckling, he looked up from his shot, "yup...straight tequila", he stated almost matter-of-fact as if it would be anything else.

She reached for a cigarette, she needed something to calm her, lighting it, she blew a thin trail of smoke from her lips. As he walked around to her side of the table, he teased, "Ya know, those things will kill ya, right?"

She tilted her head at him, smiling and then nodding her head over to his pack laying next to his drink and parroted his words back to him, "ya know, those things will kill ya, right?" she teased him. He grinned back at her.

Slowly she started to feel more at ease around him, the butterflies in her stomach still churning, but her hands becoming more and more steady as they teased each other...sparring back and forth.

He let her win the first few games, intentionally missing some shots, not making it look intentional but all the same losing. He was stalking her, letting her feel more and more easy with him, setting her up for the pounce.

"Let's make this a little more interesting. What do ya say, little girl?" he asked.

"How do ya mean?" she countered.

"Well, why don't we wager the next game...say $5 a ball?" he asked.

"Gosh, I don't know...seems a little rich for my blood." she stated.

"Ok, $1 a ball then...sound fair enough?" he again asked. "You've been kicking my ass all night...what do you have to lose?" he challenged.

As soon as he challenged her, he knew he had her, knew that she wouldn't back out.

"You're on!" she laughed.

"Rack 'em up and I'll go get another round, ok sweets?" he threw over his shoulder, not giving her the chance to argue.

She had the balls all racked up by the time he had gotten back, again he kicked the door shut behind him, but this time he juggled the two drinks in one hand as his other hand reached up behind him to lock the door from the inside and against any unwanted company. She had her back turned away from him so she wouldn't have seen anyhow, but he didn't want to spook her all the same.

Walking up behind her, he set the drinks down on the table, pressing himself up against her back, literally pinning her to the table. He was testing her for a response and was pleased when she looked over her shoulder up to him, that soft, shy smile making him grind his hips against her even more.

He could tell she was getting a little more than tipsy, her eyes were the windows to her soul and right now they were looking mighty glassy. He smiled and held her drink up to her lips, urging her to drink. She took a small sip of the tequila, letting it warm her throat.

"You tryin' to get me drunk, Mike?" she teased.

"Is it working'?" he asked with a crooked grin.

She just laughed and shook her head, unconsciously grinding back against him.

He slowly traced his hand up her side, his fingers grazing lightly against the side of her neck as he pulled her hair back to reveal her neck to him. His lips brushing light against the exposed area as he spoke softly, "you are such a tease, little girl."

She shivered slightly as his warm breath caressed her neck, goose bumps rising on her arms. A low sigh escaping her lips as he continued to tease his lips over her neck, his full mustache tickling her. As her breath started to quicken he backed off, he wanted to tease and torment her like she had been doing to him for the past month.

"Let's play, little girl", he whispered against her ear as he slowly backed away from her, leaning against the bar stool to watch her. "She is like putty in my hands", he thought to himself.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she turned to the pool table, chalking her stick. He watched her, taking note of her nipples poking through the thin material of her button down shirt. She reached for another cigarette, taking a long drag from it, holding the smoke in her lungs before exhaling in a slow and steady stream. She still had half of a drink left and two more full ones on the table waiting for her. Picking up the half empty one, she knocked it back, emptying it before sitting it on the table.

"Your break, little girl", he stated, watching as she walked a bit unsteady to the head of the table.

She was starting to feel much more bold, she knew he had been looking down her shirt all night as they had played, she didn't care. It made her feel sexy, brazen...but deep down she was still the good girl her daddy had raised. So what if she was teasing him, it made her feel good. And of course, he wasn't complaining.

She bent low over the table, her hard nipples skimming against the edge of the table as she lined up her shot, sending tingles down to her belly. Arching her back, she pulled her right arm back holding the stick and then let it fly, sending the cue ball crashing against the balls. Sinking two balls, she slowly walked around the table, judging her next move. She was right in front of him when she leaned low against the table, lining up her next shot. The cool feel of something sliding up against the inside of her leg made her hesitate on her shot. He was teasing her with his cue stick, just barely skimming the inside of her thigh. She adjusted her stance, widening her thighs a few inches as she stayed leaned over the table, meeting his challenge and then taking the shot...and sinking another ball.

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