Acheron

"You've got a good crowd gathering. I just wanted to know if you needed some water for your presentation?"

 

Her gut knotted at those words. Good crowd. Yeesh. She hated crowds and public speaking. If not for the fact they needed funding for new equipment in Greece, she'd have never agreed to this. "Yes, please, but make sure it has a screw cap. I'm always spilling drinks when they don't."

 

The woman turned and left. Tory looked down at the notes she was reviewing, but the woman's words hung in her mind.

 

Good crowd. What an oxymoron for a woman who hated crowds. Her throat tight, she went to spy on the room.

 

Yeah, it was definitely a crowd. At least sixty people were there. She felt sick.

 

As she started to withdraw into the shadows, the door opened and in walked a man who took her breath away.

 

Unbelievably tall, he strode into the room as if he owned it. No, he didn't stride, he loped in like a seductive predator. Every woman in the room turned to stare at him. You couldn't help it. It was like he was a magnet for the eyes.

 

His long black hair held a streak of bright red in the front and framed a face so incredibly handsome that he'd be pretty if he didn't have such a rugged aura. It also made her want to know exactly what his eyes looked like, but since he wore a pair of opaque black Oakley sunglasses, she couldn't tell. Dressed in a long black distressed coat, he wore a dark gray hoodie underneath that was opened to show a Misfits T-shirt. His black pants were tucked into a pair of dark cherry red Doc Martens boots with skull and crossbone buckles going up each side.

 

Ignoring the women who ogled him, he shrugged a black leather backpack off his broad shoulder and set it on the floor by an aisle seat before he sat down. The leather was as worn as his coat and the backpack was marred with a white anarchy symbol and one of a sun pierced by three lightning bolts.

 

She didn't know what it was about those long legs stretching out in front of him that made her heartbeat speed up, but it did. He looked so masculine sitting there like that. With his large hands covered by black fingerless gloves, he pushed the sleeves of his coat up on his forearms, then leaned back in the chair, completely at ease. She caught a glimpse of a red and black dragon tattoo on his left arm. He also had a small silver stud pierced through his right nostril, as well as a tiny silver hoop in his left ear.

 

He took a deep breath and hung one arm over the back of the chair. Dang, the man moved like water. Slow, graceful and yet he gave the impression that at any minute he could explode into action to take down anyone who threatened him.

 

Yeah . . .

 

"Dr. Kafieri?"

 

It wasn't until the third time her name was repeated that she realized the docent had returned. "I'm sorry. I was having a bit of stage fright." And a long minute of lust-filled fantasies about wrapping herself around Mr. Goth.

 

"Oh you'll be fine." The woman handed her the water.

 

Tory wasn't so sure. Crowds terrified her and unlike the Goth man outside, she hated to stand out. She would try picturing him in his underwear, but that was even more disturbing since all it did was make her hot and even more nervous . . .

 

He had to be the only man alive who could pull off intimidating in his tighty-whities.

 

God, what if all that massive hotness was commando?

 

Forcing herself to stop those thoughts, she checked her watch and saw that it was almost time to begin.

 

Tory gulped.

 

She glanced back at the crowd to see a tall, extremely voluptuous redheaded woman approach the Goth man. The woman was as beautiful as the man was gorgeous, but she didn't look like the type who would normally associate with his. Where he was dressed in black, FU clothes, she wore an all-white suit, right down to the dainty Jimmy Choo shoes. Immaculately coifed, the woman reminded her of a runway model. And when she sat down by the Goth man, he actually grimaced at her even though she was smiling and offering him some of the drink she'd brought with her.

 

The woman spoke to him and he turned his head to respond with a very harsh, "Fuck off."

 

She looked completely stricken by his coldness. Tory clenched her teeth. It was obvious they knew each other and while the woman was enamored of the man, he couldn't care less about her.

 

Typical jerk. Tory hated to judge people, but she'd seen his type over and over again in the classes she'd taught and had made the mistake of thinking herself in love with someone just like him once upon a time. Users who took advantage of the women who loved them. No doubt the redhead had bought every piece of the expensive clothes he so proudly wore.

 

But their relationship was none of her business. She just hoped the woman came to her senses soon and dumped the asshole.

 

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