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My fingers wanted to walk across her hips, yank her back, and press my cock in between her thighs. All to give her a taste of what I had to offer. It took everything I had to keep them by my side. Eagerly, they flurried over my jeans, their rhythmical movements tapping against the coarse material.

A subtle melody whispered through the speakers hitting my ears, the violins played utter benignity; angelic and soft, soothing to the senses.

Distracted by my thoughts, I almost walked through her. Cadence reached up and pressed against my chest. “Wait here,” she rustled out, palm held open.

Our eyes locked briefly, small creases rested above arched brows, no waver of a grin. Her lips spread razor-thin as she disappeared through a rickety old door behind the bar.

Why does she look so... bitter?

If I'm here because her father wants to thank me, why does all the life seem to have drained from her?

There was no making sense of this woman; she wants me, she resists me. Strength peeks out and shyness mantles her uncertainty.

What she didn't realize, or refused to realize, is how that only drives me harder. I'm not one to give up or walk away.

If she can't make up her mind, I'll do it for her.

Leaning against the wood bar, I listened to the muffled voices seep from behind the fractured surface of the door. I could hear the tones, the rise and fall of pitch, but nothing more.

Sliding onto a stool, its once bright red facade, now cracked and stained. Cotton wisps reached out from beneath the broken surface, tickling my hands as I sat.

I hoped that after this meeting was done, I would finally get what I wanted.

Cadence.

She had teased me enough. Her pussy was going to be mine, no more fucking games.

Setting my elbows down, my fingers braided each other impatiently.

What are they talking about in there? You might think I was here to see the damn president.

Clicking my tongue, I was ready to do this, and go home. I'd been up for almost twenty-four hours. Exhaustion was trying to wriggle its way into my bones. I had shaken it off for some time now, it wouldn't be long before I just collapsed, unable to fight it anymore.

A creek of the hinges drew my attention up. The door parted slowly, and Cadence emerged. “He's ready for you now.” Her eyes darted around my face, never meeting them full on.

“Okay,” I said, the single word drew out over my tongue. The whole situation began to reek of decaying garbage, it was quite the production to just say 'thank you.'

Her hand came up and wiped her cheek, nose scrunched with a sniffle.Had she been crying? What the fuck is going on here? Was she screwing with me?

She had said she'd be fucked if I didn't come back with her.

But I couldn't understand why?

What the hell was the big deal?

Things just weren't making sense, nothing fit together. A father who wants to commend the man who protected his daughter, would have met them at the door. A hand, strong and firm, would've been ready to give praise.

Instead, the pit forming in my stomach said this was something else.

Blocking the path to the door, she stood with her lips moving as if she wanted to speak, but couldn't find her voice.

“Are you going to let me by?” A light chuckle escaped as I watched her hands rub together nervously.

“Quinn, be polite, don't get smart with him.” Confusion fell across my face, my eyes went crooked, mouth stout. Her hands came up in defense. “It's just that my dad... he's.. he's a respected man, old fashioned in a way. And people who get mouthy with him, well, it usually doesn't go over well.”

“Thanks for the warning, Doll. I'm sure I've got this.” Nodding my head, I pinched the fabric covering my shoulders.

“Look, I know my dad, and I know your type-”