Okay I found an editor and I'm hoping it won't take nearly as long to get CH. 3 started and finished and editted. As always your input is much appreciated and welcome. This chapter is a little longer. This one wasn't editted but the next one will be.
Hope you enjoy!
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"That's gonna be twenty dollars and seventy cents ma'am." The driver told Deanna as she went to slide out of the backseat. The cab had pulled up to her building after a short fifteen minute drive from the club. With a heavy sigh, she was reaching back to dig out some cash she had in the back pocket of her pants. Deanna had quickly pulled apart a 20 and a 5 dollar bill handing them to the driver, before exiting the cab completely.
"Thanks Miss!" The cabby had yelled at her, before he pulled away from the curb to find the next fare. The night hadn't gone at all like she'd hoped. After another sigh, Deanna made her way up the five steps to the gated door of her apartment building. A wooden bowl held her discarded keys after she locked herself in the 3rd floor flat, turning on the lights to in the living room.
A momentary glance at the clock above the fireplace brought another disgruntled sigh from her lips, "It's not even past midnight yet."
She'd begun stripping as she made her way to the bedroom; shoes had been kicked off in living room, the shirt hung from the handle of a door in the hallway, and just after crossing the threshold of the bedroom, her pants and socks were flung across the room to land in the clothes hamper. Clad in her bra and panties, she made her way to the bathroom across the hall, flipping on the light there.
A hot shower would do her some good, with that thought she turned on the shower, tested the water with her hands to be sure it was warmed up. Agile fingers went to work and had the black lace bra unhooked and sliding off her shoulders, before they'd tugged her matching panties down enough that she was able to step out of them. Deanna had thrown her underwear across the hall with little hope they made it into the hamper with her pants.
She LOVED her shower; it was her happy place, her one indulgence. It's what made her want the apartment. It was rare to find a place that had a walk in shower that had no door on one side, just an opening for someone to walk in. Which was exactly what she'd done, the soothing feel of water raining down from the ceiling shower head was calming to her. She was happy to indulge herself. She freed her hair from its scrunchii, the water soaking through until her curls turned to waves.
Deanna had been hoping the water would wash away the last event of the day, but it wasn't working. Matteo was in the back of her mind, and when she closed her eyes, he was in the forefront of her mind. His dark smoldering gaze stared back at her, saying what he'd hinted at when he'd followed her out of the club. That thick Italian accent had been enough by itself to warm her blood. The man himself looked the part of a subject for many statues in museums.
The sheer idea of what he looked like without all the clothes was enough motivation for her soapy hands to slide over her stomach. Her fingertips caressing lightly under the curve of her breasts, the teasing touch in conjunction with the steamy water making her nipples harden. She tilted her head back to let the water push her hair out of her face while rinsing the soap away from her torso, never letting her fingers cease their gentle caress. A slow smile spread over Deanna's lips as she thought about how she would have enjoyed a night with him, shame his arrogance had been such a turn off. Her hands each gave her tits a soft squeeze and quick pinch on the hard nipples before they continued up, as she stepped from beneath the falling water, wiping away the water on her face and wringing out her hair.
"Typical man.", she said having turned the water off, and had already wrapped her hair up in one towel while wrapping another around her body. Her body still hummed with slight arousal, but his words and actions were overriding her slight desire.
If there was one thing Deanna couldn't stand it was an overly cocky man. She'd dried off, and put on her green and blue polka dotted pajamas, and was now sitting Indian style on the bed braiding her damp hair. Once she'd finished her hair, she'd gotten back up to make sure she'd locked the doors, and turned off the lights. As she'd settled down in her bed, her last thoughts were if she never saw Matteo again, it'd be too soon for her tastes.
Are you laughing at me?!" Matteo raged at Aristotle. The striped cat just yawned at him, but didn't break eye contact with the angry vampire. His tail was the only thing on him moving at this moment, but his body was readying itself for a quick escape just in case.
"It's been over 2 and a half weeks and I still haven't seen her!" Matteo had been back to the club several more nights, with no luck. He'd even tried other places. With an exasperated grunt he'd flopped down into the chair next to the fireplace, his brooding gaze still on the cat. He knew Aristotle wasn't laughing at him, but if the cat could laugh he probably would at Matteo's own stupidity.
He'd made a fledgling's mistake. Instead of scenting the woman, he'd let her walk away, and to add insult to injury, instead of retaining the bit of her scent he'd caught a whiff of, absorb into his mind, he'd ran off and bedded the next available woman, who's scent he could now pick out of 100 people, with his eyes closed.
Frowning at Aristotle he said, "Go ahead you can call me an idiot, because I sure as hell feel like one."
He knew the woman was local, because she'd taken a cab. Aside from how she looked physically that's all he knew about her. The idea that she must not be a night owl had begun to take root. The scowl on his face had deepened as his voice boomed, "DAMMIT!"
The suddenness of that shout was enough to make the cat jump back a few feet. Aristotle was none too pleased at the unexpected expression. He was up and on all fours, claws deeply sunk into the carpeted floor, as he hissed and growled his displeasure towards Matteo.
Matteo ignored the cat, and wiped a hand down his face in abject discontent at the entire situation. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted that woman, and the longer it took for him to find her the longer it'd take before him to get what he wanted. All this served to keep him in the foul mood that had begun to plague each day.
