Easy

There was something about you that caught my eye. Maybe it was the way wiggled your ass when you walked, then sneered at the men who dared to look at you. Maybe it was that smug smile on your face, like you could do anything and away with it. Hell, you probably could have. But really, I think it was the way you carried yourself that pulled me to you; you were drop dead gorgeous, and you wouldn’t let anyone forget it.

As you passed through the crowded bar, you glanced at me. It was only for a second, but it was long enough for me to see the lust in your eyes. You wanted me, just like I wanted you. You sat down at the bar and I studied your perfect body. You were tall, dark, and had a set of hands that must have made other guitarists hate you. You wore a black blazer, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was styled ever so carefully, so that your eyes just barely peeked out from behind it. I didn’t have to wonder if the necklace was real gold; I knew it was.

You crossed your legs, and ordered your martini. The bartender almost spilled it as he handed it to you, but you just laughed. I waited, biding my time. A few men came up to you, one at a time, but you sent them all away before they could even ask if they could buy you a drink. As the fourth guy walked away disappointed, you looked at me again and shrugged, as if saying “what can you do?”

I made my move then. Getting up from my table in the back of the room, I walked up to you slowly, making sure you had enough time to watch me approaching. Taking the seat next to yours, I watched you subtly shift your weight, tilting your head, and letting your hair obscure your eyes even more than before in the process..

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked.

"You toyed with me, letting me feel the silence as it pressed around us. Finally, you responded.

“You think I’m that easy, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, smirking, “I think you are.”

“I’ll take a martini.” you said, smiling back at me.

We stumbled drunkenly out of the car, and made our way up the walk, laughing and leaning on each other for support. It took me a few tries to find the right key, fumbling at the lock in the dark. As I pushed the door open, you swung me around, and kissed me hard. I kissed you back, and slid my hand up the back of your leg, and up, onto your firm ass. I felt as you pushed me backwards, through the open door. Leaving a trail of clothes in our wake, I guided you to the bedroom.

As I slipped my jeans off, you pushed me backwards onto the bed, and kneeled down in front of me. You tore off my shirt, kissed me again, and worked your mouth down my chest. I held your hair in one hand, and leaned back on the other. You reached for the waist of my boxers, and toyed with it.

Then I felt it. A blinding, white hot pain, ripping through my abdomen, and then a warm flow down my chest. I leapt from the bed, throwing you backwards into the wall. I learned to late the my legs were too unsteady to support my weight, and I fell to the floor. Gasping for breath, I was saw my chest. Etched from my scrotum to my sternum was a long, jagged cut. Flowing from it was deep red blood, more than I had ever seen.

I tried to scream, but you put your hand over my mouth before I could, and held it there tightly. Kneeling over me, you watched me bleed out on the hardwood floor, cold and uncaring. When you sensed I no longer had the capacity to scream, you took you hand off my mouth, and quickly slipped your clothes back on. I was coughing up blood as I watched you take the wallet from my pants and count the money, looking pleased with yourself. Finally, you came back to me, and knelt over me once more. Your mouth next to my ear, you whispered to me.

“Lead vocalists are so easy.”