Only the Beginning Ch. 01

She confidently walks into the bar. Her hair is long, sleek and jet-black. Her hazel eyes scan the room; quietly searching for him. Not too many faces in this dark, little dive bar. She locks eyes with him, recognizing him easily from his picture.

He sits alone at a table across the room. He'd been sitting there only long enough to get halfway through a glass of whiskey.

She is dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. Cute, but curvy; curvy in all the right places. She gives him a quick smirk.

She runs her fingers through her hair. He takes notice that a couple of other patrons are staring at her and feels a little twinge of jealousy. It quickly passes because he knows that the only reason she would ever walk into a place like this, is to meet him for the first time.

He leans back in his chair expecting her to walk over. He's a little surprised when she turns towards the bar. She hops up onto a barstool. She only 5′ 4″, so her feet don't even touch the floor. She waves the bartender over and orders a shot of vodka and an AMF.

While the bartender pours her drinks, she turns back towards the table he's sitting at. Then all he gets is a sideways glance, a wink and another smirk before she turns back to the bar. She downs the shot before the barkeep finishes making the other drink, and slams the shot glass down.

Clearly, she had no intentions of coming over to where he sits.

She's playing hard to get.

He is a little intrigued by her little game of cat and mouse, but really?

He was expecting a proper introduction with names and a handshake, maybe even a hug, if he was lucky.

He felt like he already knew her after the hours of online chatting. Then again, that also meant he knew she liked her little games.

He strokes his beard a few times waiting for her to turn around again, but she doesn't. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head a little as he stands. He strides up to the bar next to her as she pays the bartender.

The bartender is a little entranced by her as he accepts a fairly generous tip and smile from her. The bartender lingers for a moment too long in front of her; frozen with a dumbfounded smile on his face.

She giggles before turning her attention to the bright blue AMF in front of her.

She is doing it on purpose. She knows he's standing beside her. She ignores him anyway.

She carefully fishes out a candy red cherry out of the top of her drink. She is holding it by the stem as she swirls her tongue once around the dangling piece of fruit. She gently uses her teeth to quickly pluck it away from the stem. She smiles to herself as she chews, knowing that he is watching her. She likes his attention and is purposefully not reciprocating it.

He clears his throat with a little impatience. He's been waiting a while for this moment.

She turns and looks straight back into his deep blue eyes. He starts to say hello but stops mid word.

She gives him a little pout.

Wow. Her bow shaped lips make a sultry pout.

She licks her lips before holding up her hand telling him to wait.

He's interrupting her little ritual.

She raises a brow and bites her lower lip before shooting him a mischievously wicked smile.

She pops the cherry stem in her mouth.

He watches carefully; a little confused but definitely curious.

Another moment passes before she gives him a big smile. Beaming. Between her teeth, the stem is tied into a neat, little knot.

He laughs because it's the only thing he can do to being a little caught off guard. He watches her remove it from her mouth and discard it on the cocktail napkin underneath her drink.

This.

This is the moment.

She smiles with a sparkle in her eye, before saying,"Hey there, stranger."

"Hey baby."

She hops down from her barstool. She grabs her drink from the bar. Her ass gently brushes against him as she turns and reaches for his hand. Dumbfounded he follows. His only thought is wondering if she did that on purpose.

She is leading him back to the table where he was sitting when she came in. She turns her head to look at him, licks her lips and gives him a sly look.

Yup. That was definitely on purpose.

He pulls out her chair for her before sitting across the table from her.

They exchange the common niceties. But he is having a very difficult time concentrating on the conversation at hand. She keeps licking her lips and smiling.

He's trying not to stare, but more like trying to steal glances but she keeps catching him. Looking at him, she blushes, looks down and looks back up at him from beneath her eyelashes. When he doesn't know what to say, he fills the space with his nervous laughter. It puts her at ease. She smiles because she's waited so long to witness this in person.

They speak freely as of they've known each other forever. No one listening in would ever guess this is their first meeting. Many hours of online conversations have taken them through their fantasies and friendship even to some of their darkest secrets, but here in this little bar there is a sense of tension. The reality of it all. Face to face.

Neither want this moment to end, but the unspoken is becoming too much to bear. Neither wants to be the first to admit it or much less say it out loud -- the reason why they are both here.

He offers insistently, "I could have picked you up at the airport, you know."

"I know. But then I wouldn't have this air of mystery." She says with a smirk.

"But with you coming in to town, I thought I'd be a tour guide of sorts."

"You're the only sight I came to see."

His face brightens. He knows it's true, but it's nice to hear her say it.

She continues, "Plus I wanted time to check-in to the hotel and get ready. I didn't want you to sit there and just wait for me."

She looks unabashedly into his eyes. Both are so vulnerable to the moment. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, they just smile at each other. They are both taking risks to be there, for different reasons perhaps, but yet here they are.

She breaks the silence by saying, "Well, at least the flight was pretty good."

They continue to talk about nothing; the weather, work, current events. She is enjoying taking in his little nuances as he speaks. The especially loves the sparkle in his eye when he is talking about things he's passionate about. His music, his record collection, a pet project he's been working on in his garage.

He keeps thinking to himself that she is so easy to talk to and how every time she nervously puts her hair behind her ear that he just wants to pull her close and breath her in deeply.

The conversation dies. Not to an awkward silence, but a familiar silence. Their thoughts have taken over the space of spoken words. Both their glasses are empty and an unmeasured amount of time has passed. Somewhere during this time their hands met in the middle of the table.

He's fighting every ounce of his being to take her, right here, right now, on the table between them.

She can sense what he's thinking; her breath deepens to sultry heave and says,"Hey, babe. I think we should get out of here."

He nods in agreement.

She leads him out the bar.