Her Nocturnal Lover - Page 8/46

He'd found her down. 'Linda' He smiled at the memory of her name. At least he'd known as much as he could from the documents in her wallet while she had slept her life away in a drunken sod. He was mad that these events were starting to replace the fine idea he'd had of her shaking booty in a club. She'd put on quite an impressive show. Of course there had been many but none like hers. Never had he been taken up by such character. He'd moved to places, toured cities and palaces, yet all the women he'd met there had got nothing but a passive reaction from him. They had possessed this fake plasticity of being ladies, even when they did unlawful things inside their houses. Whatever was up with the fake shows! Couldn't women just be who they truly were for at least once? He amused himself by how frustrated he was. How their idea of ladyship frightened him though he had always been himself. Indifferent. Whether one was a genius or a hooker. They never impressed Bill enough. None of them was ever good enough for him. No tarts 'ladies' no gents 'male-hookers' trying to find their way around life by clinging to another hot guys. He'd hated everyone and their pretenses until images of a brunette got stuck in his system the night before. Her devilish look at the club, the long hair and attitude with which she'd danced. Not shy at all. No blushing like she'd got nothing to lose. She didn't even care who saw her or not. He recalled the touch of her hair on his skin while he'd carried her to his car. Silent and graceful. Her drunken body so calm like she'd been lying on a comfortable double bed. Her slim body.

He was taken up. But he was furious. Sad and mad and angry at her. Tonnes of anger. How could she have dragged herself with all the vodka, a woman of her caliber lying in the middle of the road? He was mad but mostly, he was mad at himself. How could his gut hurt that match for her even after the show she'd put up in the middle of the road? He wondered how she felt. Maybe embarrassed at herself. Because anyone of good sense would after they found themselves tucked in bed quietly on a beautiful new day after they'd got themselves stoned the night before. It was humiliating. He was not going to forget her and neither was he willing to forgive her.

Linda looked down at herself and thought deeply. She'd carried some confusion at first but then she'd decided to let go. She realized it was truly only foolish of her to imagine that someone out there had cared to bring her home yet not a single person had ever shown interest in her affairs. She had also thought that someone would perhaps turn up in demand for a reward or a vote of gratitude. So she'd come to a conclusion. She'd done everything herself before she'd gone to a club.