Natalia stepped out of the shower at 7 pm, wrapping herself in a plush robe. She padded to her walk-in closet, leaving damp footprints on the floor. "What does one wear to a blind date they don't want to go on?" she muttered, scanning the rows of designer clothes. Her father's voice echoed in her head: "Just give it a chance, sweetie!" She rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say, Dad. You're not the one about to have dinner with a potential serial killer." Sighing dramatically, she pulled out a matching set of lacy underwear. "Well, at least if I die, I'll have on nice undies," she quipped to her reflection as she slipped them on. Natalia rifled through her dresses, rejecting one after another: "Too formal... too casual... too 'I'm trying way too hard'..." Finally, she settled on a sleek black number that was both sophisticated and sexy. As she zipped herself in, she chuckled. "All this effort for a date I'm already planning my escape from. Maybe I should just show up in sweats and
Natalia and Leonardo entered the cozy Italian restaurant, the aroma of garlic and tomato sauce enveloping them. The place was bustling with activity, tables packed with animated diners. "Table for two?" A waiter appeared, seemingly out of thin air. "Yes, please," Leonardo replied, flashing a charming smile. As they followed the waiter to their table, Natalia's mind drifted back to Jackson. She shook her head, trying to focus on the present. After all, she was here with Leonardo, who seemed nice enough. They settled into their seats. She picked up the menu, using it as a shield to gather her thoughts. "So," Leonardo began, "I have to ask. How did you get roped into this blind date?" She lowered her menu, grateful for the ice-breaker. "Oh, you know. The usual. An overenthusiastic father who thinks his daughter's biological clock is ticking louder than Big Ben." He chuckled. "Ah, the classic parental pressure. I got my mom's 'When are you going to settle down?' speech last week. I
Jackson opened the car door for Olivia, his mind lingering on the brunette's enigmatic smile. As Olivia slid into the passenger seat, he shook off the thought and focused on the present. "So, where to now?" she asked, her eyes sparkling excitedly. Before he could respond, Quantum Quill's voice chimed in his head. "Well done, Romeo. The task was completed successfully. Your reward will be credited shortly. How about you take your lovely date to the Royal Angel Pub?" He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden instruction. He cleared his throat and turned to Olivia. "How about we go for a drink?" "A drink? I thought dinner was the end of our date. But... I'm game if you are." She paused, then added with a sheepish grin, "Though I should probably mention I don't drink alcohol. Non-alcoholic options for me, if that's okay?" "Absolutely," he nodded. "I know just the place." As he started the car, QQ piped up again. "Smooth move, tiger. The Royal Angel it is. Try not to drool over any
Quantum Quill said, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Well, well, well. Isn't this a delightful little twist? Come on, Jackson, where's your sense of adventure? Go introduce yourself!" Jackson gritted his teeth. "Not now, QQ," he hissed. "Sorry, what?" Olivia leaned in, confused. "Uh, nothing," he stammered. "Just... talking to myself. Bad habit." She giggled. "Careful, people might think you're crazy." "You have no idea," he mumbled. Olivia tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Oh? Do tell." Before Jackson could fumble for an explanation, QQ's voice sliced through his thoughts. "Enough chit-chat, Romeo. Time to put on your big boy pants and strut over to Mr. Homewrecker. Go on, I dare you." He took a long swig of his whiskey sour, wincing as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. "Everything okay?" Olivia asked, her hand gently touching his arm. He plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Yeah, just... I need to say hi to someone real
The man suddenly lurched to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. His designer suit was rumpled, and a faint whiff of expensive cologne mixed with the sour smell of booze hit Jackson's nostrils. "Look, buddy," the man slurred, jabbing a finger into Jackson's chest. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but I feel generous tonight. So tell me, what's your game? Do you want me to find this Veronica chick for you? Rough her up a bit? Or maybe you want me to give her a good, hard fuck? Is that it? You like watching, do ya?" Jackson recoiled, disgust twisting his features. The man didn't seem to notice, continuing his drunken monologue. "I could do it, you know. I'm a man of many talents." He winked, swaying dangerously. "I could make her scream so loud, they'd hear it in the next county. I'd bend her over, spank that tight little ass until it's red as a tomato, then-" "Jesus Christ, shut up!" Jackson snapped, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and a
The man's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes glassy from too much booze. "What's the matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?" He waved the gun carelessly, making Jackson flinch. "Tell you what, if you're so hard up you gotta come bothering me about some chick I may or may not have banged years ago, I can help you out." Jackson's eyebrows shot up, confusion momentarily replacing his anger. "Yeah, that's right," the man continued, leaning in close enough that Jackson could smell the whiskey on his breath. "If you ain't got no house or room to fuck your girlfriend, I can set you up real nice. Got a suite in a hotel just down the street. You can bang her brains out all night long, do whatever nasty little thing your heart desires." He paused, eyeing Jackson with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Or hell, if she ain't enough for ya, I can throw another girl or two. Assuming you got the stamina, of course." He guffawed at his own joke, spittle flying from his lips.
Jackson winced as the doctor dabbed at his bullet wound, her delicate touch somehow both soothing and electrifying. He noticed how her lab coat hugged her curves in all the right places. "So," the doctor said, her voice low and sultry, "is Olivia your girlfriend?" His eyes snapped up from where they'd been admiring the doctor's... bedside manner. "What? Oh, no. Just a friend." "Interesting. And how exactly did you end up with a bullet in your shoulder, Mr...?" "Jackson," he supplied, trying not to squirm as her fingers brushed against his skin. "And it's a funny story, actually. Well, not funny, 'haha,' more funny, 'Oh shit, I'm bleeding.'" She arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Right, I was at this pub with Olivia, and we ran into this guy who... well, let's just say he's not my biggest fan. See, he cheated on my girlfriend about nine years back, and I dumped her when I found out." The doctor's eyes widened. "And he shot you for that
Claire took the phone and quickly entered her number before handing it back. "There you go. But don't go getting yourself shot just to see me again." Jackson pocketed the phone, feeling a surge of triumph. "I'll do my best to avoid any more bullets." "Good plan," she said, stepping closer. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But if you need anything else... don't hesitate to call." Jackson's breath caught as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Anything else?" "Anything," she whispered back, her lips lingering dangerously close to his. His heart pounded as he turned his head slightly, their faces now inches apart. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin and smell her faint perfume. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips with his. The kiss started slow and tentative but quickly became more intense. Claire's hands tangled in his hair as she pressed against him, deepening the kiss. His mind sp