The Bar

Hope was deep into her friend's latest murder novel she had just published and didn't hear the door. When she felt eyes on her, she looked up and was shocked to see it was the guy from the hotel. Oh my God, she thought.

Mark couldn't believe his mystery girl was sitting on his sister's couch. What the... "How did you get in my sister's house?" He suddenly blurted out. Great, he groaned to himself. You spend three weeks trying to find her and the first thing you do is jump down her throat. Good move.

Hope had no idea what to say. She had never expected to see him again, least of all at her friend's place...Wait. If this was her friend's house, but also his sister's house, then that would make her friend his sister which would mean...

Oh, my God. I screwed my friend's brother...twice; she wanted to die of embarrassment.

Hope was saved answering when Kelly came back in. When she saw her brother she flew into his arms, hugging him like there was no tomorrow.

"You jerk! You should have told me you were in town," she said as she punched him on the shoulder.

"I wanted to surprise my baby sister," he told her. "Who's your friend?" he asked, shooting daggers at Hope.

Kelly got Hope on her feet and dragged her over to make introductions. Then she excused herself to check on the food, leaving Hope and Mark alone.

"You gave me a false name, huh, Hope," he said. Hope didn't know what to say.

She wanted to say: "Well, you see, I ran out of material for my book. I thought I'd like it to have a bar scene in a hotel where the woman gets hit on. So I decided to do some research. I got dressed up and went to a classy hotel bar to see how long it would take and what kind of men would hit on me. After a guy hit on me, I was going to leave but you persuaded me to stay and the rest is history...well, an historical five orgasms, at least."

"Umm," she said instead.

"'Umm?" You sleep with me twice, take off in the middle of the night, and give me a fake name and all you can say is 'Umm?' Mark's eyes flashed.

"Well...erm...you see... has your sister ever mentioned me?" Hope stalled for time.

He scowled at her, Oh, yeah, his sister had mentioned Hope. The friend who wrote fiction and always had her head in a book or a laptop. He snorted. She hadn't that night. She'd dressed differently as well; she stood in front of him wearing baggy jeans and an oversized jumper. The woman he had met at the bar was a femme fatale, a Valkyrie. That woman had worn a slinky red dress that looked painted on, showing off curves to die for, and spiked black heels that made her legs go on forever. Which was the real Hope?

"So your name's not Julie, you don't drive a Porsche. You don't have a dog..." he said.

"No, I do, I mean, I..." Hope stammered. " I just changed my name; the rest was all true."

"Why lie?" he asked, still angry, but now also curious.

"I really hoped you wouldn't ask that," Hope said, fidgeting. "Erm, I was out doing research for my next book." She couldn't meet his eyes. As she tipped her head down her hair fell about her face. With her long, ebony, naturally curvy hair and brown eyes she was the classic Italian beauty. However, she didn't know any Italian and had never been to Italy. Her mother was Italian and her father Scottish. Her mother had died giving birth to her and her father couldn't live without her so drank himself into a coma. Her father's parents raised her in Scotland.

His expression turned dark. "You sleep with men for research." He looked at her, disgusted.

"No!" She nearly shouted at him in frustration. He was making her sound like a prostitute, or worse.

"I was writing a bar scene for my novel... Well, I was at the time, it's finished now." She finally got the courage to glance up at him. The look on his face seemed to indicate he either didn't care or hadn't heard her, and then he started laughing.

When he stopped, he took her chin between his finger and thumb and turned her face up to him. "Scrap it," he said his eyes flashing in anger.

Moving away, she glared at him and protested. "I only used our meeting at the bar, nothing after." Feeling panicked, she said, "You can read it if you don't believe me."

Hopefully he would agree and see that it was nothing. Can he force me to scrap it? She wondered. She couldn't believe it; the one time she decided to do some research in the real world instead of just using her imagination and this guy could screw her -- and not like before. She blushed wildly just thinking about it. She had been so inhibited, and he had the most amazing hands.

"Okay, out." Mark had been so busy glaring at Hope that he missed Kelly returning to the room.

"What? I just got here!" he protested after he realised what she said.

"Yes, but Peter will be here in half an hour and I need to change. We will go for coffee tomorrow. Okay? Okay. Bye," she said, steering Mark to the door. Hope followed, hugged her friend, wished her good luck and told her to phone. Then she walked out quietly behind a very pissed off Mark.

"So do we take my car or yours?" Mark asked when she caught up with him at the elevator. Hope realised he was talking about how they would get to her house; she blushed and looked down, pretending her shoes were extremely interesting.

"Mine," she said needing to feel in control of something. Hope liked to drive, especially her little Porsche which was parked at the back of the building she bought it after her first book got published.

Mark knew he should be walking away. He found her, and she wasn't the woman he thought her to be, but he couldn't deny his attraction. He wanted one more night and hoped that would finally get her out his system.

When they got out off the elevator, Mark took Hope's arm. She felt warm and her breasts felt heavy, why did she have this strong reaction with just a touch, she thought exactly like that night at the bar. Mark was hot under the collar himself and forced himself to let go of her when they where clear of the flat. Hope led the way to her car, belted up and got ready to take Mark to her house. Wow, she thought, as she eased out of the parking bay. I've never taken a man home before. This could be weird

"So why use a different name if all the rest was true?" Mark asked after a few minutes on the road.

Sighing, Hope said she had been trying to walk in her character's shoes.

Half an hour later, Hope pulled up outside her house. Nice pad, Mark thought.

After letting him in, Hope told him to make himself comfortable while she went into her room to grab her laptop. He browsed her book collection to pass the time, and was intrigued when he saw a bunch with her name on them.

Interesting, he was thinking when Hope came back in. She looked at him nervously, wringing her hands. She knew men probably read her stuff but she didn't know any of them personally; she knew Mark.

"It will take time to load, but not too long," she said. "Erm, would you like some coffee?" He nodded.

"Sure. Hey, why do you do that?" he asked. Hope stopped halfway into the kitchen and turned back to him.

"Do what?"

"Begin nearly every sentence with 'erm?'"

"Erm...it lets me think, it gives me time--" He cut her off.

"Time for what?" he asked, giving her a look that pinned her like a butterfly.

"Time to think up a reply that's not straight off the top of my head. Sometimes I say things without thinking. It used to embarrass my grandparents," she said then went to start the coffee.

Mark couldn't figure her out. He decided he would just read her story and then leave.

"Where's your dog?" he asked sarcastically, "Or was that a lie?" he said looking at her now bent over the laptop.

"He's in Scotland, a friend's looking after him till I go back. I usually bring him with me but I'm not down here long," she replied sadly. She missed her dog, Max. He was a rescue pup, now a fully grown Dalmatian, with black paws so it looked like he wore shoes. When her Grandparents moved to Spain they left the house to her. It was in the middle of nowhere, but it was peaceful and only an hour from St Andrews if she wanted to go to the beach. It had a big garden so he could run and there were walks down by a lake. Her London flat was in a good part of London but small but with her dog she didn't feel so alone.

"Here, it's loaded if you want to look..." Hope began.

"Sure," he said before she finished.

"You seem nervous." He observed her shaking fingers. Blushing, she told him her writing generally wasn't done with men in mind.

Opening the file, she scrolled down till she found the page she wanted. She sat back to let him read. She could smell his aftershave as he sat beside her.

While Hope was trying not to combust, Mark was reading and getting more turned on by the minute.

He picked up the story in the middle.

While she was distracted with her phone call, the gentleman beside her started sliding his hand up her leg. Slowly travelling higher under her skirt, he discovered she was wearing stockings and said under his breath, "Sweet Jesus."

Julie couldn't believe it. Here she was, talking to her boyfriend on the phone in a hotel bar, and a complete stranger was feeling her up. But it felt so good that she said nothing, didn't try to stop him.

While Jonathan chatted away, she had to bite her lip to hold back a moan. When the stranger started stroking her through her underwear, she got even wetter. Then the stranger whispered in her ear.

"Hang up," he said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine.

She had a choice: keep boring, sensible, okay-in-bed Jonathan or go with Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome... there was no choice.

"Jonathan, I don't think we're working out and I gotta go, bye," she said. Then she turned her phone off and turned to look into the stranger's eyes. She knew she had made the right choice.

When Hope turned to the side to tell him that was all she had written, Mark took her mouth in a wild, passionate kiss. Hope kissed him back, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer. She opened her mouth so he could take the kiss further. She still knew little about him, but just as at their first meeting, she didn't need to. They had a connection -- call it chemistry, lust or soul mates -- that she had never felt with another man.

Mark was thinking the same thing. How can a woman affect me like this? he wondered as he ran his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head to make the kiss deeper.

Mark pulled her to stand up and Hope started unbuttoning his shirt; she wanted to run her hands over his chest. Mark nibbled at her lips and kissed down her jaw until he was found her neck.

"Your perfume has tormented me since that night," he murmured.

"It's my shower gel, I don't like perfume...its papaya," she replied breathlessly.

"Mmm," he muttered, breathing her scent in. "What say we move to the bedroom?" he asked as he began to unbutton her top.

As his hands touched bare skin Hope pulled back as though she'd been shocked and looked up at him.

"What am I doing? You're my friend's brother. I...we shouldn't...you should go." The words tumbled out as she pushed him away.

"What?" Mark exclaimed. "You were all for it a few minutes ago and you didn't complain that night."

"You were just a stranger then, not my best friend's brother!" she retorted.

"So, if I was still just a stranger you would sleep with me?" he asked angrily.

"No...that's not what I meant." Well it kind of is but not the way you would think, she thought. Hope pressed her hands to her eyes. How had this gotten so complicated? He was the first guy she had slept with since Neil. She had meant it to be a one night stand -- sex with a stranger -- but it wasn't anymore.

"That's what it sounded like to me," he said, turning away. Without looking back, he stormed out.

Standing looking at the door, Hope was fighting herself not to run after him and explain her actions. Its better this way, she thought everyone. After a few minutes, Hope closed down the laptop and went to fill the kettle. While she waited for it to boil, she started to remember the night at the bar.

Three weeks ago

Okay, maybe I have had better ideas than this, Hope thought as she walked into a hotel bar in Edinburgh wearing a tight crimson dress and spiked black heels she got for her birthday from Kelly. Just sit. Talk if someone says anything, then get some ideas and get out, she kept repeating in her head.

She sat down on the tall stool, trying to tug her dress down so it didn't ride up. Definitely had better ideas, she thought as the bartender came over.

"What can I get you miss?" he asked, looking her up and down.

"Erm...a white wine please," she replied. The only time she had drunk wine was at parties when there was nothing left. She sat for an hour waiting for inspiration to hit, looking around taking in the architectural work.

"I've never seen you here before," a man said, putting his glass next to hers and sliding onto the stool next to hers. "I'm Jonathan Smith, and you are?"

"Oh, erm, hi," she said, a little taken back at how strong his after shave was.

"That would be your cue to tell me your name," he said as he stared at her chest. He turned his body towards her, his right arm on the back of her stool.

"Erm, I'm waiting for someone," she said instead.

"Oh, really?" he said, leaning closer. "Well, I've been sitting over there for the past hour and no-one has come up but the bartender."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone pull out the stool on her other side and sit down.

"He's just running a little late," she said, feeling a little creped out that this guy had been watching her. She was aware of the irony that that was the point.

I think you have been stood up but I don't believe anyone would stand you up," he said looking her up and down, "So you're lying to me...

Before he finished Hope was spun around to the right and a gorgeous man took her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. Too shocked to say or do anything she just, well let him.

He pulled back then sliding one hand into her hair and the other lightly on her shoulder in a non-threatening way he looked at the guy behind her.

"Hey beautiful sorry I'm late traffic, he said laying his hand on her thigh, then bringing his mouth centimetres from her mouth, "Want to go?" he said looking in her eyes.

Shocked by the kiss and the heat of his hand on her thigh she just nodded, he trailed his hand down her arm to her hand, clasping her hand he stood up and led her back thorough reception.

*

Present day

Shaking her head to stop those thoughts she decided she wanted to just go to bed forget the day and first thing in the morning she was phoning Sabrina her lawyer friend to find out if Mark could make her scrap the book or do anything to stop the book getting published.