His Secret Sin

Her mother had told her she’d find the right one, and when she did, there would be no doubt.

Mr. Smelly Breath and Touchy Hands was nowhere near the right one. He was so far not the right one it wasn’t even funny.

“Could you please leave?” she asked.

Now her heart was pounding, and it wasn’t for any feeling other than a need for him to be gone.

“Is that any way to talk to a guy? I’m offering your fat ass a chance to ride some grade-A cock and you’re treating me like this?”

She let out a cry as he grabbed her arm. Pain shot through her flesh and she tried to get away, but he was the one in charge here. He hurt her as he pulled her.

Just as suddenly as his touch was there, it was gone, but she sensed another presence.

“The lady would like you to leave,” he said.

His voice was strong, dominating, powerful.

It sent a thrill down her spine as she listened to the guttural tones. When he stopped speaking, she wanted to listen to him again.

“Dude, fuck off. This is none of your concern. She wants me, and she likes to play hard to get.”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “No hard to get. No nothing. I just want to be left alone.”

“You fucking bi—” Mr. Smelly Breath and Touchy Hands didn’t get to finish what he was saying before her savior did something.

She wished she could see what was happening.

“When a lady says no, she means no.”

The man was gone, and she heard him being taken from her booth.

She wasn’t alone though. She sensed her savior’s presence.

“Thank you,” she said.

He sat in the booth opposite her, and she looked in that direction, wondering what to do or to say.

“You’re here to have a good time. I don’t see why you should be forced to endure the company of someone you don’t want.”

She smiled. “Thank you so much for stopping him.” She rubbed at her arm, the one he’d grabbed. Belle jumped as this man touched her arm.

“Sorry, I was just going to see,” he said.

“It’s fine. Erm, I … it’s fine.”

“I know this booth is reserved for you, Belle,” he said.

“You do?”

“I’m the owner of the club. I have all your details, including the fact you’re blind.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t mean to jump or anything.”

“I should have told you.”

She smiled. Some people were offended by the way she reacted. It wasn’t intentional. She was so used to being in her own space that the few occasional touches often made her react in ways that she wasn’t used to. Only when she was with her father did she relax. She was used to him holding her, touching her, but even still, she often tensed. He never took it personally though.

Growing up, her father had taken a day to walk in her shoes. He’d stayed at home, wearing a blindfold. This was when her mother was alive, and it had taught him a lot about what she faced on a daily basis. It had strengthened their relationship, and she loved her father.

“My friend should be here soon. I think she’s dancing with someone.” Again, she wasn’t sure. Melanie had been vague.

“Your friend has left,” he said.

“What?”

“I saw who you were escorted in with, and I watched her leave as well.”

“No, that can’t be. She’s supposed to make sure I get home safely.” Now Belle was feeling really fucking pissed off. Her friend had just left her to fend for herself. Most often she could do this. In a nightclub where she had no idea where it was, and alone, now this was unfair, and not what a friend would do. Nibbling her lip, she wondered what she could do now. Her father would be angry and demand to speak to Melanie. She didn’t want to call him. He’d be upset that she allowed herself to be put in this vulnerable position. “I don’t suppose you could help me?”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Oh, sorry, what’s your name?”

He chuckled, and she liked the sound. “Diego Leoni.”

“Nice to meet you.” She held her hand out, and after a pause he still hadn’t shaken her hand. Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, he finally took hers, shaking it. His hands were nice, smooth, firm.

She pulled away before he did, and she liked that. It had taken her years of practice to shake hands. She spent a great deal of time with her father, and he’d talked her through the quick shake, the awkward lingering one. It had been a lot of fun.

“Have you ever heard my name before?” he asked.

“No. Sorry. Are you a celebrity of some kind?”

He laughed, and she loved the sound. “No, I’m no celebrity. Just a guy trying to make an honest living.”

“I know what you mean.”