where: Ace of Angels Club
Jian stumbled a little before regaining his composure. He was well over his limit, but far from embarrassed. “Hey, sorry miss. Maybe fate brought us together.” Combing his sweat moist curls out of his face, Jian cocked his head - staring at the woman. He’s never seen her in the club before. Her presence, although annoyed was unfamiliar. In a ‘strip club’ this typically meant one thing.
Leaning close to the woman’s ear - Jian whispered “My name’s Mousey, what’s your fantasy?”
The question was not meant to be answered. Jian smiled flirtatiously and began moving his body like a snake in the club strobe light. His body tight and toned, oiled to show off his defined muscles. A couple at a near by table began letting loose a loud wolf whistle. The lady of the couple ran over with a wad of bills clenched in a waving fist. Dancing along the driving beat, Jian moved his hips in fluid strokes. Under the lights - his gorgeous face was all shadowed planes and angles, making his look more mysterious.
Jian dropped to the floor in front of his ‘new client’, and began doing what might as well be ‘sex push-ups’. His head back, arms pushing himself up off the hard floor and rolled back down with his hips. He looked up with each hip thrust, his body moving sinuously to the fast and dirty song. Making his way back to the woman’s ear, Jian let out “you smell different..”
Ilse could smell the alcohol soaked into Jian’s skin and resting on his breath. She didn’t know if a human would be able to smell it, but from where she was sitting it may have been possible. “Fate brings everyone together, depending on who you put your faith in,” Ilse told him. She watched him with a careful gaze as he looked quizzically at her. Ilse wondered what he was thinking, and why he was suddenly so enamored by her rude comment.
Ilse had to stop herself from flinching as to not stand out and upset Jian. She figured he was just trying to do his job, and who was she to stop him from it?
“You wouldn’t want to take part in my fantasies... Mousey,” Ilse thought to herself, smelling the alcohol mixing with Jian’s scent markers. It was something familiar, just barely out of reach.
But Ilse wasn’t upset when the peculiar creature went back to dancing. The way his muscles flexed under his smooth skin, practically perfect in the flashing blue and purple overhead lighting. Although she was nowhere near buzzed, the feelings of everyone else in the club mixed with the music had Ilse focused on Jian, and Jian alone.
As Jian began to move closer to her, Ilse let loose a small smirk. She was enjoying herself. As he came in close and whispered in her ear, Ilse tucked a $50 into his waistband.
“I am different,” Ilse told him, holding him there by the waistband for a moment and staring into his eyes before releasing him. “What do you call yourself?”
