Page 34 of Sins and Virtue

To be honest, I was never committed to anything.

Mostly a floater, I never knew my purpose. I only did what I felt like doing.

Which was why I was here at the Loco Moka, sitting at the bar in a gorgeous tight red McQueen dress and red bottom heels, hair spilling over my shoulders, trying to figure out my next adventure, at least for the night. My eyes searched for all newcomers who walked through the door.

The club, itself, was decorated with the bar on the far right end, the main floor in the middle, and the exclusive sitting areas surrounding the rest of the place. A blue hue illuminated the large area as it set the mood. Classic salsa music from the 80s and 90s blasted from the live band as the women drew their men onto the dance floor, and they moved in sync, their bodies shifting and grinding on one another so intimately and sensually. No one shied away from the instinct of attraction, and everyone embraced life.

It was so beautiful. To see everyone ripped away from their phones and in tuned with each other. From the youngest child to the oldest elder, this way of life was much more appealing to the heart than the busy life of New York City.

Ah, if only it could stay like this forever.

Too bad, happy ever after only exists in movies or books.

Sudden, a whistle snapped me out of my thoughts as a man approached me from behind.

“¡Oye, gringa! Vamos a bailar.” Let's go dance.

“No bailo.” I lied; I'm just not feeling up to par.

He pouted as another curvy brunette took him away as she quickly seduced him onto the floor. I shrugged it off.

Maybe tonight wasn’t my night.

“Well, it’s been fun, but let’s go,” I murmured to myself.

Turning around to ask the waitress for the bill, loud gasps filled the air, the music became quieter as the sound of multiple footsteps lingered near.

I sighed, talking to the waitress. “Ay, gracias a dios que ya me voy, parece que se va armar.”

The dark-haired waitress, who appeared to be in her late thirties and was all chatter the whole night, wearing a casual orange halter top with mini jean shorts, suddenly became quiet. Her mouth became a straight line as her eyes widened with terror.

“¿Que paso?” I asked, worried for her.

“¡Vete, niña! ¡Vete, ahora!” She shooed me away, rudely.

“¿Y la cuenta?” And the bill?

“¡Largate, perra!” Leave, bitch.

I was taken aback. Fine, if that’s what she thought. I wasn’t going to beg to stay where I wasn’t wanted. Filled with indignation, I snatched my bag from the counter, jumped off the stool, and stomped in the direction of the door. Opening my clutch to make sure I had my keys so I could get home.

Unexpectedly, I bumped into something hard and strong. My clutch dropped to the ground, and my belongings scattered everywhere, rolling over to the tip of his Oxford shoes.

Just my luck!

Wait, Oxford? Those cost a pretty penny.

For such a fancy guy, he sure was blind.

“Ah, watch where you’re going!” I kneeled down, without looking at the culprit, reaching out my hands and quicklypicking up my lipstick, cards, and other belongings. All eyes were attached to me like I was the center of attention.

“I’m sorry, munenca didn’t see you there.” His voice was deliciously dark and carried a light accent, native to the locals.

“Yeah, yeah,” a sigh fled my lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

Quickly recovering my things so the embarrassment wouldn’t last, I realized I was missing one last thing when the floor shifted, and then I noticed a tattooed hand with an eagle, holding my favorite Mac lipstick: Velvet Teddy.

My gaze looked up, wondering about this dark stranger, meeting those dark, craving-whiskey eyes. Everything else followed. Bronze skin, curly brown hair down to the nape of his neck, and his broad shoulders fitted in a black suit. He was lethal sensuality and danger in the form of a man.