No bargain needed.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say, letting the words roll off my tongue.
She side-eyes me, leans against the bar, and looks out over the empty dance floor.
“Are you drinking tonight?” I ask.
She turns around to face me after a few moments and slides onto a bar stool. I don’t miss the way her eyes flick up and down my form before she looks to the wall of drinks behind me.
“Sure,” she replies.
“You want the purple drink from last time, what I’m assuming is your usual trio of shots, or something new?”
Alorra shrugs, a graceful rise and drop of one shoulder as she tilts her head, but I don’t miss the glimmer that lights in her eyes at the question. I grin and make the same sparkly drink she pretended not to like last time. I love how the swirling cocktail glitter in the drink sets off the silver shimmer in her hair.
I hold the drink out, inviting her to take it from me. Her fingers brush mine and send a tingling zap up my arm. I might not wash that hand for the rest of the night now. She stares at me, and I wonder if she felt it too.
I wait until she takes a sip, looking for that approving sparkle in her eye before I speak again.
“So, I told you my name, I think it’s only fair you return the favor, no?” I say.
I already know her name from her ID, but I don’t know if she realizes that. Besides, I want her to tell me. It feels important for some reason.
She pauses sipping the drink to glare at me over the rim of the glass, and I put on my most endearing smile. If she’s even the tiniest bit attracted to me, I’m hopeful it’ll help my case of winning her over.
Alorra lowers the glass to the bar, rolling the stem between her fingers as she spins it. She angles her head, and her eyes run up and down my body again, this time leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I have to do a double take to ensure there’s no actual fire, as the heat from her gaze feels remarkably similar to my own flames.
I straighten under her perusal, practically preening at the feeling of her gaze on my skin. My grin grows, turning into a cocky smirk when her eyes linger in multiple places. On my mouth, my arms, my hands, my crotch.
She purses her lips then jerks her eyes away as her cheeks tinge with the barest hint of a delightful blush.
“Fine,” she says. “It’s Alorra, but…”
Alorra trails off, eyeing me again. I might have already known how lovely her name is, but hearing her tell me herself has elation thrumming my heart into a rapid beat. My demon is also satisfied at having tricked her into sharing information she didn’t know I already had.
My inner demon is ridiculous and an idiot. Does that make me a ridiculous idiot too?
“But?” My grin falters for a moment, but hitches back up when she replies.
“You can call me Lor,” she mumbles the words into her cocktail as she raises it to her lips for another drink.
I didn’t think my smile could get any bigger, but she just gave me a gift. A nickname.
A crack in her armor.
“Lor,” I murmur, tasting the perfection of her name on my tongue.
She takes another sip of my new favorite drink, and a faint hum of satisfaction reaches my ears when she licks her lips.
I want to lick those lips. And more. My eyes are glued to them until she reaches up and snaps her fingers in my face. I jolt with surprise, then offer a sheepish grin. She rolls her eyes and some of the tension falls from her shoulders.
“So, Lor,” I say, snagging a stool to sit on and folding my arms on the bar across from her.
She pauses, eyeing me warily. She’s a skittish one, but I don’t mind.
“Yes…?”
“Ro,” I offer.
