TAKING IT BACK by Zenobia Renquist
Sometimes you have to get grabby to get what you want.
Nami is in Vegas for a business seminar. Kosuke is a tentacle monster in search of a cure for the affliction keeping him from eating. While she may not make him better, Kosuke is more than willing to put that aside to enjoy the other things Nami can do for him.
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Taking It Back
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Zenobia Renquist
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Trust. Nami worshipped the word. She went out of her way to make herself worthy of its use when people referred to her. Too often trust went hand in hand with being gullible. Yet again, she had proven herself the latter. Look up gullible in the dictionary and her name would be listed next to her contact information, social security number, and bank account numbers complete with pass codes because she would have been stupid enough to give it to whoever asked.
She elbowed her way to the bar counter, ignoring the annoyed expressions of those around her. "Give me a tall glass of whatever will fuck me up the fastest and make sure it's sweet."
The bartender gave her a knowing look before turning away to fix her drink.
"That order could also describe a man," the man standing next to her said in an Asian-accented voice.
Nami glanced at him. She didn't rally see him, though. All she saw was man. One of the annoying, self-appointed rulers of the world in which she lived. He and the rest of his gender were the enemy. "So very not interested." She turned to face the bartender to watch him mix her drink, but he'd disappeared into the back of the bar, so she settled on staring at the liquor bottles.
The bartender returned with an hourglass shaped plastic cup the length of her forearm that glowed under the bar's black lights. He placed it before her. "Fifteen."
The man who had spoken earlier reached for his pocket. "I would like --"
Nami slapped a twenty on the counter. "Keep the change." She snatched up the drink and walked away.
The bar sported small booths in the darkest recesses of the establishment, probably meant for intimate interludes. Nami wanted to enjoy her pity party alone. She would drink the dayglow orange cocktail, of which she'd forgotten to ask the name, and hope it drowned out her stupidity.
Only morons fell for the line Nami had swallowed. Being in Vegas -- the city of "what happens here stays here" -- made it worse. Except she'd been too stupid to realize the guy she wanted to do it with didn't want to do it with her.
No, what really made the situation worse was she and the guy who had snubbed her were attending a company seminar together. She wouldn't be able to avoid him. She also wouldn't be able to avoid the lectures her friend Geena, also at the seminar, would surely have for her. Geena had warned Nami not to be fooled, but Nami had plowed forward, heedless of the danger signs. She sighed into her drink. "Idiot," she snapped.
"I do not think you know me well enough to call me that."
Nami looked up at the man who had been trying to talk to her before. "Why are you bothering me? I said I'm not interested."
"Once you finish that drink --" he gestured at the tall plastic cup -- "I'm sure you will be."
"You actually admit that you're waiting until I'm drunk so you can take advantage?"
"Yes."
She cocked her head to the side as she regarded him.
"Points for honesty?"
"Sit." She gestured across from her but he slid into the booth beside her. Inching away only made him move closer. "What's your story?"
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