Post by DANTE COLLINS on Feb 6, 2011 6:32:32 GMT -6
help me tear down my reason,
HELP ME; IT'S YOUR SEX I CAN SMELL.[/center]
"Tammy! Why the fuck isn't your shirt off yet!?" The music killed most of the bartender's reply, but Dante couldn't be bothered with asking her to repeat herself. Tipping back what had to be close to his twentieth shot, Dante's eyes closed and he felt the world spin for a moment. Gripping the bar's counter, he pushed off of it, letting his barstool spin a few times as he righted himself. Grabbing his last shot once his feet hit the ground, stopping him, he tipped that back as well, but missed most of his mouth. The alcohol dripped down the front of his neck, sliding into the collar of his shirt. He hadn't even finished swallowing what was in his mouth, and a girl he couldn't remember the name of was trailing her tongue along the alcohol's spill line, lapping it all up like a starved dog. Dante made no objections, leaning more into the warm feel of her tongue, blindly reaching a hand to tug around her waist, pulling her off her stool and into his lap. She took this as an invitation to do whatever she pleased, and as much as Dante loved it when a woman took charge of the situation, he didn't plan on sticking it in until he was a lot more drunk. She, from the feel of her hands moving between them to try and undo his pants, had gotten the impression that he had wanted to bang her right in front of everyone.
After setting the empty shot glass down, his hands moved to grab her wrists, pulling them up his chest. She let out a playful giggle, like she was too drunk to realize he was denying her access into his pants, but he knew better. The slut was trying to guilt him without actually throwing on the pouty lip, and hurt eyes. She tried to free her wrists to go back down, and Dante's grip got harder, his eyes narrowing with irritation. Pulling her more against him, so that she could hear him better, he held her wrists a little tighter than necessary, but from the lack of complain from her, he knew he wasn't hurting her- not yet. "If I wanted your filthy hands all over my junk, I would've put them there myself." At first he got no reaction, just a blank look, though he could see the wheels turning. When her face twisted in anger, he let her wrists go, already knowing what was coming neck. Her right hand flew up and slapped him across the face, the echo of the slap drilling through the crowd around the bar, but Dante didn't glance around in embarrassment. Instead, he let her slid off of him and gave her ass a solid swat as she tried to walk away with confidence. It startled her, quite a bit actually, and she nearly stumbled down the stairs to the dance floor. Shaking his head, Dante leaned forward, grabbing one of the three shots Tammy had just poured for him. "Bitches be crazy, Tam. Every single one'o you."
Luckily for Dante, Tammy was a good friend. She understood him like no one else really did, and the only times she ever passed any kind of judgment was when he wasn't acting like himself- when he was too caught up in the fact that his Brother was still missing, when he realized that he should've properly continued his career in music like he had wanted, instead of dropping out of the band in hopes to find a new one. When life got the better of him, Tammy was always there, alcohol at the ready, good company waiting to be had. She was the perfect woman, in Dante's eyes. The only downfall was that she wasn't into the whole... penis thing. But that was perfectly alright for Dante. That meant his crotch couldn't get in the way of their friendship, and he'd always have someone to pick him up off the floor whenever he needed it. Which seemed to be happening a lot more recently than he'd like to admit.
Taking his second shot, already eying his third, Dante's thoughts of getting more wasted were interrupted soon after the empty glass had been slammed back onto the bars surface. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes caught sight of a woman he didn't think he'd ever see again. At least, to Dante, it was the same woman. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware that Max had a twin sister, and he was too intoxicated to smell much of anything different coming off the young woman. The only thing going through his mind was the last time he had seen Max. It had been really late, and he had returned to his flat on top of his bar after a night of miserable letdowns. He hadn't had enough patience to bring anyone back with him, most of the women he had encountered being complete airheads. She had tried to break into his bar, and when he had found her, she attacked without hesitation. It didn't take him long to figure out that all she was looking for was blood, but he hadn't been about to give it up without a little fun at first. When he had finally given in, the alcohol he had consumed did wonders for the female vampire, and before he had even realized it, his night was getting a shit load of better, all because of one troublemaker.
The idea of repeating those actions had his blood flowing smoothly, and Dante didn't even think before sliding off the bar stool. Walking up behind the woman, figuring his footsteps would've been covered by the blaring music, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her from behind, hooking securely around her waist, pulling her tightly up against his hard body. God, she felt amazing up against him like that. "Fancy seein' you here, Maxxie. Come for another taste?" If he hadn't been as drunk as he was, when he whispered that into her ear, he would've been able to register that the scent pulling off her skin wasn't that of a vampire, but of a human. So much for being a clean second in command.
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tag . madelyn
words . 1,073
outfit . hurr
notes . he's practically molesting her through her clothes, no big deal. :D
