Faye tucked a curl behind her ear and climbed off the man below her.
"Where're you going?" The blond guy exclaimed. Faye gathered the things strewn on the dresser and dropped them into her handbag. She took her lipstick from the side pocket and dabbed it on her lips. Pursing them, she looked into the mirror and smoothed a few flyaway curls.
"Oh, it was nice," she murmured, dropping the lipstick back in and turning to slip her feet into her heels.
The confusion on the man's face was amusing. She smiled to herself, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks for a good time," she whispered, running her hand down his naked torso and grasping his semi-hard cock.
He gasped and spluttered as he watched her turn and leave the room, catching the last glimpse of her face as she flashed a smile at him.
--------------------------
"So..how was Blondie?" The willowy redhead leaned back in her chair and sipped from her tall glass.
Faye shrugged. "Well you know me, Steph. He was all right, I suppose. A little young, a little eager, but all right."
Steph's eyes widened. "Faye! He was my best ever!"
Her friend laughed heartily and swirled her spoon in her mug of coffee.
"You really need to settle down, y'know. You can't just go around like this forever," Steph frowned. She plucked the lemon half from her glass and popped it into her mouth.
Faye watched her grimace and shrugged. "I don't know why you do that. And yes, I know. Someday." She looked out at the street where people walked by. "Just not right now."
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"So, you like poetry and long walks on the beach?" The dark-haired young man shouted over the din into Faye's ear. She strained to listen, body moving along with the mass of dancing people in the club. When she realized what he'd said she laughed and clutched at his shirt with one hand.
"No, not really, I prefer to fuck," she shouted into his ear.
She watched as his face changed, a smug smile at the corner of her lips. If she could hear him over the beat of the music he'd be stammering right now. He recovered quickly, though, and leaned back in.
"That's an activity that I like, too," he yelled.
Faye laughed and threw her head back. As she danced, she spotted a tall man at the edge of the crowd. He was watching her. Pursing her lips, she ran her hands down her body as she moved to the music. He was dressed impeccably in a dark dress shirt and immaculate tailored pants. His hair was short and neat, except for the lock that fell in his eyes. It was too far to tell, but his eyes seemed to be a dark greyish blue.
The man in front of her was dancing a lot more enthusiastically now, edging up to her and pressing his body into hers. Smirking Faye let him, but she turned so that mister smart in the corner could watch.
Faye arched her back into her companion's front, sliding down his torso and feeling the rigid curve in the front of his pants pressing against her. She locked her eyes on the man in the corner, and he sipped his drink as he watched her turn to face the man she was with, moving her hips against his.
Mr. Happy behind her was getting a little too happy. Faye took his hands from her hips and put them away. She turned and walked to the back of the room, where the tall man stood by the bar.
"B-but I thought,"
Faye ignored his protests as she slunk to the back of the room.
"A glass of water please," She said in a sultry voice.
"Just a glass of water?"
His voice was rich and quiet at the same time. He raised his eyes and looked at her. Yep. They were greyish-blue, flecked with darker tints in the shadows.
"Well. I like water," Faye took the tall glass handed to her and leaned against the bar top. She cast a glance at him over her shoulder.
"You're a little dressy for this dump, aren't you?" She murmured.
A smile hovered at the corner of his lips.
"I like dressy." He walked slowly around her and stood by her. "My name's Tristan."
"Oh, we're introducing ourselves now?" Faye laughed. "My name is Faye." She tipped her glass back and tucked a curl behind her ear. It uncurled again and she pushed it back slightly irritably. Tristan watched her.
"You should wear them long. They'd be tamer with the weight," he said. Faye worked her jaw.
"I like them short. Why should I pander to your notions of femininity." She answered, tossing her head.
Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Well. You certainly looked like you were exploiting your femininity on the dance floor," he remarked.
"What?" Faye swung to glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just. What it means."
The dark-haired buffoon stumbled past the moving bodies on the dance floor and reached for Faye's hand.
"Did I do something wrong? Because I have no problems whatsoever with your preference of.. activity," he panted, clutching her hand.
Faye cast a glacial look at Tristan.
"No you did nothing wrong. Let's go," she snapped.
