two.
“ And you Vivica,” I gesture at Nicholas, who looks cooler than a block of ice with a smoke dangling from his lips. “I expected better of you, leading these two young boys astray.”
Nicholas pulls the smoke from his mouth, letting out a long draw. “I like to corrupt,” he replies, hidden meaning in his guarded expression. Is he pissed that I ran off on him when we'd been on the dance floor?
I don't say anything, I just continue enjoying the cigarette I appropriated from Harry. I can feel Nicholas' eyes on me. When I look at him again he's not staring at me anymore. His eyes are trained on the dirty floor, a sort of sad expression on his face. A thin girl with long, silky black hair and perfect skin sidles up to our group, her sights quite clearly set on Nicholas. As you might expect, I take an instant disliking to her.
“ Hey, could I get a light from you?” she asks him.
He lifts his eyes from the floor to look at her, and then pulls his lighter from his jeans pocket. “Sure you can,” he smiles. She leans forward, giving him a good look at her cleavage. Harry and Sean are deep in conversation, but my attention is riveted on the exchange between Nicholas and this girl.
“ I love your accent,” she says, with drunk unfocused eyes. “Where are you from?”
His smile transforms into a smirk, and his mischievous baby blues glance at me for a brief second. “Australia, have you ever been?” he lies.
“ No, but I hear it's lovely,” she answers, sucking in a drag of her smoke.
Nicholas touches her lightly on the elbow. “Excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back.”
He walks over to me and whispers, “Do you think she's trying to make me her last chance saloon for the night?”
“ I would say that's a definite yes,” I answer him.
“ Shall we have a little fun with her?” he continues.
“ You really are the corrupting type,” I say to him with a holier than thou expression.
“ In or out Fred,” he states.
“ Oh, go on then, you've twisted my arm,” I grin.
“ Great,” he takes my hand and guides me over to the black haired girl, who gives me a blatant catty look and turns back to Nicholas.
“ So, I never quite caught your name, I'm Nicholas and this is my Irish cousin Freda. I'm here visiting her.”
The girl loses the cat eyes with the false information that I'm Nicholas' relative and therefore not a threat. “I'm Niamh, it's nice to meet you Nicholas – and Freda.”
“ Likewise,” says Nicholas, before raising my hand to his mouth and giving my knuckles a lingering kiss. Niamh looks confused for a minute, but then she seems to shake it off.
“ Oh my God, so cool, are you wearing eye liner?” she asks, stepping up close to run her finger just below Nicholas' eye.
“ I am. Freda enjoys putting make-up on me. I'm like her little toy doll.”
Niamh's nose crinkles as she glances at me. “You put this on him? Why?”
Not so “cool” anymore then. I try to sound as mysterious as possible. “Oh, it's just a little game we like to play. I do his make-up for him and he does mine. It's a cousin thing.”
“ And then we do some French kissing,” Nicholas adds.
“ Eh, what?” says Niamh, stubbing her smoke out on the nearest ash tray.
“ Kissing cousins, have you never heard of it?” Nicholas asks her.
“ No I've heard of it, you two are a pair of freaks ,” she says, taking a step back.
“ We were wondering if you'd like to join us for a m é nage à trois ?” Nicholas steps forward.
“ Fuck no, get away from me,” she says cuttingly and runs off.
I burst out laughing. “She completely fell for that. You're an evil genius,” I tell him.
“ One of my many talents,” he brushes fake dust off his shoulder.
“ Why did you do that though? She was hot and definitely up for a night of debauchery,” I eye him curiously.
“ I don't know, she smelled like stripper perfume. It put me off,” he replies.
“ What on earth is stripper
“ And you Vivica,” I gesture at Nicholas, who looks cooler than a block of ice with a smoke dangling from his lips. “I expected better of you, leading these two young boys astray.”
Nicholas pulls the smoke from his mouth, letting out a long draw. “I like to corrupt,” he replies, hidden meaning in his guarded expression. Is he pissed that I ran off on him when we'd been on the dance floor?
I don't say anything, I just continue enjoying the cigarette I appropriated from Harry. I can feel Nicholas' eyes on me. When I look at him again he's not staring at me anymore. His eyes are trained on the dirty floor, a sort of sad expression on his face. A thin girl with long, silky black hair and perfect skin sidles up to our group, her sights quite clearly set on Nicholas. As you might expect, I take an instant disliking to her.
“ Hey, could I get a light from you?” she asks him.
He lifts his eyes from the floor to look at her, and then pulls his lighter from his jeans pocket. “Sure you can,” he smiles. She leans forward, giving him a good look at her cleavage. Harry and Sean are deep in conversation, but my attention is riveted on the exchange between Nicholas and this girl.
“ I love your accent,” she says, with drunk unfocused eyes. “Where are you from?”
His smile transforms into a smirk, and his mischievous baby blues glance at me for a brief second. “Australia, have you ever been?” he lies.
“ No, but I hear it's lovely,” she answers, sucking in a drag of her smoke.
Nicholas touches her lightly on the elbow. “Excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back.”
He walks over to me and whispers, “Do you think she's trying to make me her last chance saloon for the night?”
“ I would say that's a definite yes,” I answer him.
“ Shall we have a little fun with her?” he continues.
“ You really are the corrupting type,” I say to him with a holier than thou expression.
“ In or out Fred,” he states.
“ Oh, go on then, you've twisted my arm,” I grin.
“ Great,” he takes my hand and guides me over to the black haired girl, who gives me a blatant catty look and turns back to Nicholas.
“ So, I never quite caught your name, I'm Nicholas and this is my Irish cousin Freda. I'm here visiting her.”
The girl loses the cat eyes with the false information that I'm Nicholas' relative and therefore not a threat. “I'm Niamh, it's nice to meet you Nicholas – and Freda.”
“ Likewise,” says Nicholas, before raising my hand to his mouth and giving my knuckles a lingering kiss. Niamh looks confused for a minute, but then she seems to shake it off.
“ Oh my God, so cool, are you wearing eye liner?” she asks, stepping up close to run her finger just below Nicholas' eye.
“ I am. Freda enjoys putting make-up on me. I'm like her little toy doll.”
Niamh's nose crinkles as she glances at me. “You put this on him? Why?”
Not so “cool” anymore then. I try to sound as mysterious as possible. “Oh, it's just a little game we like to play. I do his make-up for him and he does mine. It's a cousin thing.”
“ And then we do some French kissing,” Nicholas adds.
“ Eh, what?” says Niamh, stubbing her smoke out on the nearest ash tray.
“ Kissing cousins, have you never heard of it?” Nicholas asks her.
“ No I've heard of it, you two are a pair of freaks ,” she says, taking a step back.
“ We were wondering if you'd like to join us for a m é nage à trois ?” Nicholas steps forward.
“ Fuck no, get away from me,” she says cuttingly and runs off.
I burst out laughing. “She completely fell for that. You're an evil genius,” I tell him.
“ One of my many talents,” he brushes fake dust off his shoulder.
“ Why did you do that though? She was hot and definitely up for a night of debauchery,” I eye him curiously.
“ I don't know, she smelled like stripper perfume. It put me off,” he replies.
“ What on earth is stripper
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