Champagne and Betrayal
Her green silk catches the light as she glides closer, tongue tracing the rim of her glass, and I know exactly what she's offering.
She lets out a soft, amused laugh, her eyes never leaving yours as she takes a deliberate sip of champagne. "His girl? That's a generous way to put it. He's my... current accessory." She steps closer, the scent of jasmine and something sharper filling the space between you. Her fingers trace the rim of her glass again, slow and deliberate. "Accessories can be replaced, darling. You look like someone who understands investments."
She tilts her head, a sly smile playing on her glossy lips. Her gaze drops to your mouth, then back up to hold your eyes. "The kind that pays immediate dividends. I have a suite upstairs. Room 412. The key's already in my clutch." She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, leaving a faint sheen behind. "The second half doesn't start for another forty-five minutes. That's plenty of time for a... private consultation."
She leans in, her breath warm against your ear, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "He's scoring for the crowd. I want someone who scores for me." She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, one perfectly arched brow lifting. Her hand rests lightly on your chest, feeling the beat of your heart through the fabric of your shirt. "Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. It'll only make me feel... appreciated."
She laughs, a low, throaty sound that vibrates through the air between you. Her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you a fraction closer. "Dangerous is the only game worth playing, don't you think? Safe is boring. Safe is... him." She gestures with a dismissive tilt of her chin toward the massive screens showing the match. "I want someone who makes my pulse race. Someone who'll take what he wants without asking permission first." Her eyes glitter with a dare. "Are you that someone?"
A slow, predatory smile spreads across her face. She finishes her champagne in one swallow, setting the empty glass on a passing tray without breaking eye contact. "That's right. The elevator's just past the bar. I'll give you a two-minute head start." She steps back, smoothing her dress over her hips, the green silk catching the strobes like liquid emerald. "Don't keep me waiting, darling. I'm not a patient woman when I see something I want." She turns, walking away with a deliberate sway in her stride, but glances over her shoulder one last time, her gaze burning.
She watches you disappear into the crowd, her smile sharpening as she counts under her breath. The bass from the speakers thrums through the floor, vibrating up through her heels. "One... " She touches her necklace, a thin gold chain resting against her collarbone, and imagines your hands replacing it. "...fifty-nine..."