EXTRACT FOR
A Single Night
(Fiaine Cluiun)

Deborah swirled the remains of her martini around the glass, watching the slow play as it swept over the smooth interior. "You know what, I need a good hard shag."

Sharon choked, coughing on her drink as she set the glass down.

"It's been too long and about ready to jump the nearest man and fuck him senseless. Or let him do me. Either would work. As long as I enjoy it."

"Careful, someone will hear you. Do you want every desperate guy in here trying to get into your pants?"

The way she felt she wasn't sure if that would be a problem. "God, this is insane." It wasn't helping that nearly every man walking past her, set her body on fire. Her libido was out of control. Maybe it was just the club, or the drink, but whatever was going on her sex drive had slammed into overdrive. "This sucks big time, and I'm running out of batteries."

"So, no luck on the boyfriend side of things?" Sharon wiped the remains of her drink from her lips before she risked picking it up again. 

"None. Dried up. Drake split. Besides, I don't need or want a boyfriend. I need a fuck buddy. Dates? Relationships? They're a waste of time lately. A man in my life? For what? To complain when I stay late at the office?" That was the last thing she needed to deal.

Gods, would it be so difficult to have a guy she could turn to when she had an itch to scratch?

"So do something about it instead of sitting here with me." Sharon gave a half shrug and glanced around the busy bar. Smoke curled up from a dozen tables, couples, small groups and single men and women mingled. Despite the comment about desperate men, the club was on the exclusive side and one of the few places people were allowed to smoke, but only cigars. 

There were set areas for those who wanted to indulge, and those who could afford their choice in cigars weren't what she'd describe as desperate. Music thumped out from the stage as the DJ kept up with the requests from the crowd.

"You're not the sit back and mope type, at least I thought you weren't. So then, what are you going to do, get pro-active on this? Or don't you have the guts?" 

Deborah's shoulders tensed as she sucked in her bottom lip. "What?"

"Come on, it's not like you. So what are you going to do about it? Sit back and sulk, or get out there and grab a man?"

"I hear a dare coming on," she sipped the last of her drink and set the now empty glass down. "Spill. What are the terms?"

"Just like that?" Sharon leaned back and smiled. "Give me a few to think here. I wasn't expecting you to dive right in on this. Damnit woman, you don't like to make things easy, do you?"

"Why not, you're the one who made it a challenge, and you know I don't like to pass up a dare." No matter how stupid it was. Maybe this was a ridiculous idea, it wasn't something she'd suggest to another woman but now she couldn't help but glance around the club, her gaze lingering on the men one at a time, imagining what they would be like in bed. "Or is it too much for you? We can always change the subject if that's the case. I can find something else to do, or someone." She grinned. 

Her sex clenched at the idea of being taken by someone she'd never met until tonight. She wasn't a fool, there were some risks, but she wouldn't be heading off alone, and it wouldn't take but a moment to set up the app so Sharon could track her. The safe call, she'd done it before.

"Alright, let's do it. No backing out now. I know how you can wriggle out of these things. It's not happening tonight." Sharon closed her eyes, her long, French tipped fingernails tapped against the table, lips pressed into a tight, thin line. "The dare. Here we go. You're to find and seduce a man from this club and bring back a trophy to prove it. His fly button. I want to see his fly button in the palm of my hand tomorrow morning at coffee. And don't tell me it's not possible. You're in a high-end club, they're all in dress pants or similar. No sweats in here, no forgetting the prize or it never happened."

Her cheeks flushed as she listened. But she'd no one to blame but herself. This wasn't going to go away unless she either admitted she couldn't do it, or she brought the trophy as proof she'd followed through. "Damn, alright. You're on. Tonight?" She glanced back at the group currently moving on the dance floor. "You sure about this?"

"Yes, that way you don't have a chance to change your mind or have something come up. Now, choose your target."

"You mean my prey." Deborah grinned and licked her tongue slowly over her lips as she turned her attention to the others in the club. She had a decent crop here, but it was finding the right one.

"That works. Just as long as you get this done tonight. You need a good long screw with a guy that will leave you walking bow legged for a week. All you've got to do is pick one out."

Yes, it did work and, in more ways, than one. Hunting down a man for sex was a new one, she'd never even thought about doing it before, but there was a first time for everything. Pick one. It sounded easy, but the reality was another matter. "Hmm, now which one. Perhaps the blue shirt over - no, there's a blond hanging on his arm."

"Ah, yeah, I see him, and her, she'd be competition."

"No, not that. Real trouble. And I'm in no mood for a cat fight and she looks the type who'd scratch out the eyes of any woman who went hear her man. Look at the way she's glaring at the brunette twerking to get his attention.

"Hm, good point." Sharon pursed her lips and nodded toward the bar. "What about the dark-haired hunk with the oh so delectable abs there?"

"Gay." She barely glanced at the man in question.

"How do you know? Come on, spill, or are you dodging?"

"I know his boyfriend." It was a pity about Gavin, he was one gorgeous piece of man flesh, but his interest in women as sexual partners ranked right up there with cleaning shit from his shoes. "He's a great guy if you need a fake date for the night, but that's as far as he goes. Oh, knows plenty about wines if you need to pick someone's brain for that."

"I'll remember that, always useful to have a back-up."

This wasn't helping. Who was she going to target? It wasn't as if the bar was short of likely subjects. Hell, it was a pick-up joint, that's why she'd come here in the first place. But it also meant she knew most of the faces and what how they reacted. 

It went one of three ways.

They never contacted you again, which suited her down to the ground.

They were putting their number in your phone before you left the bed, but then waited for you to call them. With a slim chance they'd call first.

Or they saw you at the club and then got in your face, demanding to know why you hadn't contacted them. That one was the hardest for her to deal with and why she'd changed clubs twice. What was it with those who wouldn't take no for an answer?

"Mike?"

"What? The bartender?" Was she kidding? Mike didn't date people from the bar, everyone knew that and more than enough women had tried hitting on him. 

"Why not, you've had your eye on him for months not." Sharon nudged the empty glasses across the table. "And you've got the perfect excuse, or don't you think you've got what it takes to land him? Is he out of your league? Imagine that; a bartender out of your reach."

Deborah growled as she fixed her friend with a cold glare. "Out of my reach? Really bitch? Oh, you've gone and done it now."

"That, my dear friend, was the entire idea." Sharon flashed a smug smile and settled back in her chair. "Go and get him, if you can. Though I'm betting he says no."

Because he always turned customers down.

Oh she could and would go and get him. Without another word she slipped out of her chair and snagged the two empty glasses. She made her way through the still semi-crowded bar, taking in the men and women who had descended on the place for an evening of alcohol, sex, and entertainment.

Was she any better if she was planning on cornering the man and jumping his bones? She'd come here with Sharon on the hunt. Alright, so she was taking a more direct route on the sex aspect and if it all worked out then she'd be going home with Mike.

Sure, if I can get him to break his record when it comes to turning customers down.

The man was six feet with an inch or so to spare. Dark hair caught in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The play of muscles beneath his clothing spoke of a man who took good care of himself or played sport. No beard, not even a hint of growth which meant he shaved before work. Good. Not that she minded a hint of whisker when she was in a mood for it. 

But not tonight.

"What can I get you?"

"Two chocolate martini's and you."

Mike leaned in, snagging the glasses with an easy swipe. "Now, if I didn't know any better then I'd assume that was a come on, but out of all the women in here you've been one of a rare handful who hasn't hit on me, and the majority of the others were either gay or happily monogamous." 

She flashed a grin. "It's a come on."

Mike laughed and shook his head, a light dancing in his eyes. "Well, your common sense had to do a runner at some point. Look, do you know how often I get that line? You're the third one tonight, so what makes you so special? Why would I go home with you, or take you up to my apartment?"

Third one? Great, that wasn't going to help her situation. "The fact that all I want is one night, no strings attached, no calling you, stalking you, hell I'll even change bars after tonight if that would help." She leaned in against the bar, and pressed her arms in close, forcing her cleavage fully into view. How the hell was she supposed to entice him for the night if he really was that used to being hit on?

She was going to lose before she even had a chance to begin.

"That's an offer I haven't had before. Not phrased that way at least. Still, I can't see why I'd take the risk with you. Oh, don't get me wrong, you're attractive, my type even, but this is my job and I'm not about to fuck myself out of a job over a quick lay." Mike turned away and started work on the drinks.

Risk his job? Shit, I didn't think about that one. It made sense now. Why he'd turned down women in the past and planned on doing so now. There had to be a way around it something she could do to make things workable. "And what if I could prove to you that I'm worth it?"

"How?" He turned back and set the two new drinks on the counter. "How do you think you're going to prove to me you're worth not only my job but my apartment?"

If he was willing to risk his job, she had to be willing to do something equally dangerous for her reputation. Not quite her job but it could be if the wrong person shared a video. Shit, she could end up trending. Still - the looked him up and down, then took a chance. "What if I get up on that bar and do a little dance up there. Strut, twerk, whatever it is that gets their attention."

"And what does that prove."

"That I'm willing to risk my reputation." How much of a risk she couldn't be sure but if it made it onto the net, she'd be facing a possibility of a lifetime of people reminding her of that one time she humiliated herself. "Alright, so it's not my job, but I'd have to live with the comments from people who know me and maybe those at work. Besides, you'd get a decent idea of just how good our night would be."

"How so?"

"If I seduce you during the dance then you know I can move in all the ways that matter."

"You're on." He grinned and looked down the bar before meeting her gaze. "So, go pick a song and get up there, unless you're having second thoughts?"

What was it with people asking her that tonight? Was there something in the air, in the water? Well, whatever was going on it was time to face it head on and get that man into bed. Or the nearest horizontal surface. "Bring it on. I'm going to show you the dance of a lifetime."