The Thrillerous Affair | Part 1
The bass from the club bledthrough the walls of the women’s bathroom, turning the mirrors into vibrating glass. Perfume, sweat, and the sharp scent of spilled tequila hang in the air.
Selah stands at the graffiti covered sink, pretending to adjust the strap of her dress. Really, she’s fixing the small crystal tucked inside her bra, sliding it back into the exact place it belongs against her skin. A smirk grew on her face because she knew that she was getting closer to her goal. To her friend, it was getting some dick. But for her, it was something a little more than that.
Across from her, Nola who she's known for only a month now leans against the counter, reapplying lip gloss. The girl had introduced herself at Selah's bar like they’d been friends for years. One of those women who believes in energy, fate, signs.
Selah likes those kinds.
But would they remain friends if she really knew her?
“New Orleans got spirits errywhere,” Nola says suddenly, glancing at Selah through the mirror. “Like… old ones. Watching people. Plotting.”
Selah smiles softly.
“You sound just like a tourist," Selah laughs, licking her teeth sinisterly.
The girl shrugs, lowering her voice. “What? The fool moon is out and you know people do crazy thangs.The city feels… a'live. Like somebody’s always pullin' strings.I feel like it's closa than ever,” her creole accent thickened.
Selah presses the crystal flat against her chest and closes her dress. She doesn’t say anthing but just listens. The woman thought to herself just how destruaght she'd be if she knew the real her.
Duaghter of the infamous Shadow Man.
“Maybe they are,” Selah says lightly.
Nola studies her for a second.
“I don’t know,” she laughs nervously. “Tonight I got a weird feeling. Like…" she
Selah turns, sweet and harmless.
"Like, what?" Selah gave Nola with a look of curious but an undertone of a mutual knowing.
They held eachother's gaze but before the tension could grow, Nola broke the silence.
"Must be the weed talkin."
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna call me a ride home," Nola tell her, pulling her phone out.
Nola didn’t bother asking her to text her throughout the night to make sure she’s safe. Selah was far too independent for that.
"Okay, girl. Text me," she opens her arms to embrace a hug. "Bye," she walks out of the restroom, leaving Selah to herself.Oh, and if you don’t fuck that man tonight, I know something.”
A mysterious black shadow made is way to Selah's view, making her grin. "Don't worry boys, we're gonna get em'. I got a plan."
Selah followed the music playing in the lounge.
There he was leaning against the bar like the room belongs to him, watching the crowd with lazy confidence.
Selah notices him the moment she steps onto the dancefloor again. Not because he’s loud or flashy but because he’s still watching her like he never stopped.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he had said, sliding into the empty stool beside her.
Selah tilted her head, amused. “Why?”
“In exchange for a dance.”
She studied him for a moment, the slow smile forming like she was deciding whether he was worth the trouble.
“Alright,” she said. “One dance.”
That was hours ago.
The music had changed a dozen times since then, but somehow they kept finding each other again in the crowd. One dance turned into two. Two turned into Selah’s body pressed against his on the crowded floor.
Elias didn’t usually lose control.
Seventy years taught a man discipline.
But something about her was dangerous.
When Selah laughed and leaned closer to say something in his ear, the scent hit him again. It was something he;d never smell before: warm, metallic, intoxicating.
Her blood.
The sound of her pulse beneath her skin was so loud to him it nearly drowned out the music.
For a split second his jaw tightened.
The urge was sharp, instinctive.
Bite.
Feed.
“Hold it in,” he told himself.
He’d learned that lesson the hard way when he first became a dracula seventy years ago. Hunger didn’t control him anymore.
Still, Selah moved like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
Her hands sliding over his shoulders.
Her hips swaying slowly against his.
Elias’s grip tightened around her waist, pulling her closer before he could stop himself.
Dangerously possessive.
Selah looked up at him with that small, curious smile.
“Relax,” she teased. “It’s just a dance.”
He leaned closer, voice low.
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
The lights flash red across the room as the song changes, slower this time. Selah’s arms slide around his neck, their bodies moving together without thinking.
For a moment the whole club disappears.
Just the heat between them.
Just the rhythm.
Just her pulse.
Elias exhales slowly, trying to stay grounded.
Selah gazes the floor, smiling at her shadows back just in case anything goes south. She ttilts her face up toward his.
Their eyes lock.
And then they kiss.
It’s quick at first, curious.
Then deeper.
The noise of the club surges around them, but neither of them pulls away.
When they finally break apart, Selah smiles like the night just got interesting.
“You still trying to get me out of here?” she asks.
Elias smirks.
“Yeah.”
Selah glances toward the door, then back at him.
“Alright,” she says.
And together they slip out of the club into the humid New Orleans night—both of them thinking they’re the one in control.
A few minutes later they’re outside, the humid night wrapping around them. The moon is on full display, witnessing their thrillerous affair.
Stack calls an Uber.
Selah slides into the backseat beside him, the city lights of New Orleans streaking past the windows.Stack has his hands roaming all over her, teasing the neck with teasing kisses. Just enough to keep her wanting more. His nostrils flare, breathing her scent. Selah let out a moan, biting her bottem lip.
The driver glances at them through the rearview mirror.
Kofi.
Darkskin. Grills. Quiet. Observant.
Selah notices the way his eyes linger for just a second longer than normal before returning to the road.
Interesting.
Stack places his hand on her right tit, but her gaze keeps drifting forward. Catching Kofi’s eyes in the mirror.
Once.
Twice.
The third time, she doesn’t look away.
Something flickers there.
By the time the car stops, Stack is certain how the night is ending.
He opens the door for her, following her up the steps of the building she chose earlier.
Stack leans closer, lowering his voice.
“So… you inviting me in or what?”
Selah opens the door slowly.
“Of course,” she says.
Then she glances back at the driver still standing near the car.
Her eyes meet Kofi’s.
She smiles. “Him, too.”
Stack laughs under his breath, impressed.
“Damn,” he mutters. He smiled, stunned at how much of a freak he was but also that he'd eat more tonight.
"Kind sir, would you like to join us for a night cap?" Selah smirked.
Kofi hesitated for a minute. "Yeah," he responed before walking up the steps.
"This way, boys," she says after opening the gate to her vintage home.
They follow Selah inside, mesmerized by the way that she swayed her hips in that dress that was hugging her ass. She couldn't have worn a more perfect dress. A black bodycon dress that only stopped just under her rack. Her clevage exposed with sheer a v line. Stack's gold tooth glimmered at the sight, ready to rip it off of her. He stopped the drool that was trying to come out of his mouth. Kofi sucked in a breath before licking his lips,eyes glowing. The men caught eachother's lustful gaze before looking at Selah again.
For a moment, both of them think the same thing.
That they got lucky tonight.
That the girl from the club is exactly who she looks like. Sexy. Confident. Amazing in bed.
Selah closes the door behind them.
And smiles.
Because the truth is…
They didn’t find her.
She picked them.
Stack grins like he just won something.
But Kofi’s gaze lingers.
Like he feels something’s… off.
That’s alright.
Her father always said the smartest men are the most interesting ones to play with.
She came here looking.
Because if you want to own a city…
You start by learning the men who think they already do.
And Stack and Kofi?
They’re just the beginning.
