“Eden, you never called me back.”
Katya didn't know him well enough to be jealous, but she didn't find the experience enjoyable, either. By the time they reached the bottom of the steps, she'd downed her drink and was praying there was another bar. She was excited as one came into sight, but then frowned when she realized the back-bar was entirely stocked with fancy looking brands of water. No liquor? How did people engage in public indecency without a healthy amount of alcohol in their system!?
“Why do they call you Eden?” she asked, glancing around the space. It looked like it was entirely carved out of stone. The stairs, the walls, even the bar and bar back. Sconces and recessed lighting gave the entire place a soft glow, as if they were in a cave and lit only by firelight.
“Because of my last name,” he answered simply as he moved behind the bar. He had a brief exchange with the man who had been doling out the expensive looking water, then Liam dipped out of sight. When he popped back up, he had a fancy clay bottle in his hand.
“Roofies?” she asked, and he barked out a laugh.
“No, tequila. From Guadalajara.”
“Why do you hide it?”
“Because, we don't serve alcohol down here,” he explained.
“Why not!?”
“When sex is involved, you want people thinking with a clear conscience, and acting with good intentions. People can carry a single drink down from the bar above, but they can't go back for more, and none is kept here.”
“Except that bottle.”
“Except this bottle, which is my personal bottle that no one else touches. To new friends - cheers.”
She grabbed a full shot glass from him and watched as he came back out from around the bar. She stared him right in the eye while she downed the fiery liquid. Before he could finish his shot, though, another woman slithered her arm around his waist.
“Eden, so good to see you. Make sure you come say hi before you leave,” she breathed, then leaned up and placed a wet kiss on his cheek. His eyes never left Katya's, not even when the other woman walked off in a huff.
“I don't think they call you that because of your name,” Katya said in a soft voice. He smiled and leaned down close to her, resting his hands on her waist.
“They call me that because of what I've given them,” he said, his voice low. She couldn't help the shiver that ran over her body.
“And what's that?” she whispered. He chuckled, that sound she was growing to adore, and slowly forced her to turn around, to face the wall that had been at her back the whole time.
“The garden of earthly delights.”
She could see in most of the booths, though some had semi-sheer curtains drawn in front of them. In the open ones people were clearly visible. Some were sitting and drinking. One couple was kissing. In another booth, there was a man sitting alone. Or at least, that's what Katya thought at first. When she took a second glance, she realized there was a woman on her knees under the table.
“Oh my god.”
“I warned you, angel cake. Just let me know when you're ready to go home.”
She felt her back teeth grind together. Hadn't she come out with him? Hadn't she walked around his stupid club? Yet there he was, still assuming things about her. Sure, she was surprised, but she wasn't running away. What did it take to get a little credit?
“You'll know when I'm ready.”
She was halfway across the room before Katya even knew she was moving. She took deep lungfuls of air in, almost hyperventilating. But she didn't stop walking. She kept going until she was in front of an emergency exit that was positioned between two of the booths. The booth to her left was empty, thankfully. The one on the right had two women and a man who were either practicing a really interesting form of yoga, or were having exhausting looking sex.
When was the last time I had exhausting sex? Never?
“Hey,” she said in a loud voice. There was a young guy standing near the door, nodding his head to the beat of the music. He looked up when she spoke, then smiled as he took in her body and outfit.
“Hey, how's it going?” he asked, turning to give her his full attention.
“Okay. A little bored,” she sighed, glancing around them.
“Sounds like a problem I could help you with – what's your name?”
“Katya.”
“Mike,” he gestured to himself. “So what brings a good girl like you to a place like this?”
“Obviously if I found my way here, I'm not a very good girl,” she pointed out.
“Baby, I've been hanging out here for a while, and you look about as good as they come,” he chuckled, his eyes wandering over her clothing. She sighed and put her hands on her hips.
“You should never judge a book by its cover because under this frumpy brown exterior, I'm wearing a leather bustier and crotchless panties,” she prattled off.
Did I just say crotchless panties!?
“Whoa, my mistake, baby. How about we sit down and we can talk more about bad covers on good books,” Mike suggested.
“Sounds good. I ...” Katya's voice trailed off as she felt warmth at her back. Almost pressing against her. Mike glanced over her shoulder, then did a double take before standing up noticeably straighter.
“Hey, Eden, nice night,” he said.
“It is. Leave.”
Her new friend scampered off, and before he'd even passed by her, Katya felt a warm hand on her hip. Smoothing along the side of it, then gliding across her stomach. She held perfectly still. Even held her breath. Liam's large hand was warm against her body, and he splayed his fingers, his thumb brushing against the center of her bra. She finally remembered how to breathe and stepped away from him.
“I thought you said tonight would be interesting,” she said as she turned to face him. “So far all that's happened is you've judged me and been unexciting.”
“You still think this is a competition,” he sighed. She shook her head.
“No, I'm just … tired of people acting like they know me simply because I talk or act or dress a certain way. If I were to judge you based on your clothing, I'd assume you were some out of work college drop out,” she said, gesturing to his well worn polo shirt and loose jeans. He gave her a big smile.
“Fair play. Alright, no more judgement. You want to play at being bad for the night, then it's no concern of mine. I just have one thing I'd like to double check,” Liam said.
“What?”
“I didn't feel any leather bustier under that pilgrim shirt you're wearing.”
How far was she willing to take her little self-challenge? He was smiling, but his eyes weren't on her face. They were eating up the lines and miles of her body, almost like he could see beneath the billowy material and suss out her real figure. She wanted him to see her real figure.