The Stranger With The Heavenly Scent

Elena felt herself being lifted up, at first she thought it was Derek and she'd opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind for not returning with her drink early when she inhaled the heavenly scent that certainly did not belong to her coworker .

Sandalwood or something of the sort, all man and expensive Cologne and yes she has been in the scene with men long enough to know what expensive Cologne smells like.

She stopped struggling as he cradled her to him, she felt small against his ripped chest , she could tell even with the suit on him and she didn't know what to do with that information, she resisted the urge to fan herself.

At least her mask was still on. She thanked God for that, there's a part of her that existed outside the club and she'll be damned if she lets the two get mixed up.

“Hey, who are you?” she didn't know how the words came out fluent but it did.

He paused mid-step and looked down at her surprised she was coherent in her state, he could smell the alcohol in her breath and didn't really know what to feel about that. If he thought his zipper was tight before then it had to have shrunk in that moment.

She didn't notice how he was struggling for self-control because she placed her palm on his chest in an attempt to shove him but it felt like a caress to him.

“Don't do that,” he commanded gruffly.

She seem to have frozen when she heard his voice, deep and low. Words finding how to describe it failed her so she just sighed and leaned her head on his chest.

In her normal sense she would never have done that, she was too cautious for that kind of thing. Stupidity, she would have referred to it but his touch felt so calm and welcoming and most certainly it isn't Sam, nothing would ever make her feel something in his arms. He has held her once or twice since they met and she knew his touch, he tries to make it comforting but there is always that underlying thought and other small things that he would do.

Like his hands going lower unnecessarily when he is touching her or him caressing her hands, he had just gotten bold and although he doesn't touch her anymore, he does enough of it with his eyes. It is more off putting that the one with his hands but she would take it over him touching her, ever.

“Put me down,” she isn't sure she can stand on her feet, but it is a show of dominance.

“No,” this time she forced her lids open, she could as well have left it closed since she couldn' t make out anything except that the room was bright.

With heavy limbs she forced a single hand up and slapped it over her eyes to protect her from the lights.

Somewhere in her drunk mind she remembered the conversation with Sam and this time she shoved him almost falling off his arms but he regained composure and held her, making her comfortable in his hold.

“Don't try that again,” she groaned but does he says.

“Where are you taking me?” his brows pull together in thought . He knew where he was taking her but what to tell her was the problem.

"You shouldn't worry about that." Was all he said and she'd nod behind him, he walked against his chest.

With her added weight that was like nothing behind it walked out of the room waiting to close the door must be her private room she has to have things in there.

"Don't rape me," his lips curved upwards at that, surprising even him.

It felt so foreign so he let the smile fall and stroke the sliver of skin that her gown left.

"I won't,"

He used the back entrance that even in her drunken haze, she wanted to pat his back and tell him good job. It would've been extremely stupid to follow the front.

Her eyes were closed but she felt when he carefully buckled her in, soft leather seats were beneath her she resisted the urge to wiggle on it. A giggle escaped her lips at the thought.

The man was so silent, who is he? She thought straining her eyes to have a better look but with the dark outside and the tint of the cars, it was mostly pitch black, or maybe it was just her. She drank the whole bottle in three gulps so maybe her brain was a bit fuzzy, a lot fuzzy if she's was being honest.

"What's your name?" It took her a couple of seconds to realize he was speaking to her. She rolled her eyes mentally, who else would he be speaking with, except if perhaps he was a psycho who talked to himself or he had a habit of keeping women in the back seat of his car.

Speaking of cars, what kind of car had such soft chairs, even the bed in her apartment was not this soft.

"Why should I tell you my name when I don't know yours?" She asked smugly. She might be a little tipsy but she was till mouthsy, she mentally high fived herself.

"Elijah Walton." He spoke as though the words were heavy on his tongue, and that name, it sounded familiar but she didn't know where she's heard it from.

" Alia James." She said after a few minutes. It wasn't her name of course, she used it for security reasons and to ensure her life doesn't get mixed up with her actual life. She didn't know which is the actual life but she didn't want the two mixed up, that much she knew.

"Beautiful name you have there." His voice was deep, a soft rumble that vibrated through her and settled in places she would rather not acknowledge.

"Yours is nice too I guess." She muttered with a shrug. When a person compliments, you should compliment them too.