Chapter One - Coal Eyes (Part 2)

Never have I seen a man who looks this...Hot? Perfect? Intimidating? It's not just his features but the way he walks and carries himself.

Impenetrable confidence exudes from his lean frame, an undisguised aura that feels as if he was born to wield it. Then, there's his impressionable height, over six feet tall. His amazing chest is emphasized by the way his suit fits him like a glove. Tailored, dark slacks highlight muscular thighs and legs, his built screams that he works out regularly.

Oh yes, his body is perfection – he's tall, broad, and sinewy.

Men in uniforms are hot but tuxedos really do make the man – especially this one. He advances to the bar wearing a no-nonsense mask that scares anyone in his path. Men like him give me the impression of 'Nice to see, good to hold, once broken considered sold'. I know he's levels above me but, like a moth to flame I'm intrigued.

Getting a hold of myself, I spin back around, pretending to sip on my honey.

He closes in.

My heart pounds like a war drum, I feel the heat of him standing beside me.

"Whiskey neat," He murmurs to the bartender.

Oh wow. Even his voice is hot. I clench my thighs involuntarily, imagining him talking dirty to me and have to suppress a shudder of desire.

I love men with deep voices. The deeper the better. And this one has such an overwhelming baritone, it should be banned for a woman's sanity – my sanity.

I chuckle at myself.

"Is something funny?"

I freeze. Wait. Are my ears playing tricks on me? I could have sworn he just asked me a question.

"I did." He speaks again. "I asked what is so amusing."

Oh shit. How embarrassing!

Awkwardly facing him, I take in his features — Dark, sensuous eyes slightly tilted at the corners, a straight nose, an angular jawline, and a glorious sweep of black hair with a hint of playfulness left dangling across his forehead. The frown on his wonderfully sculpted lips, says otherwise.

I lift my eyes to his, noting the flicker of annoyance. Clearing my throat, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I was thinking that you have a very sexy voice."

Fuck. Why did I say that? My hand shoots up to cover my mouth while his unflappable look remains. Thank goodness the bartender returns with his drink.

"I-I meant that umm...," I stutter, my brain malfunctioning. Damn it! Why does this happen every time I meet an attractive guy? Nari often teases that I'll stay a single virgin if I don't overcome my shortcomings...not that there's anything wrong with me. I just get extremely nervous around gorgeous men.

Oh, what the heck! I'm never going to meet him again.

"Let me get this straight. You find my voice sexy and that's why you're laughing?" His eyes narrow in offense as he brings the whiskey to his lips.

My gaze follows. How can a man taking a drink look so sexy? I blink, mentally kicking myself for acting like an idiot. "Yes,"

His brow arches arrogantly.

"No! I meant no!" I exclaim, feeling my cheeks burn. Oh my god, kill me now. "It's unfair for a man to look like you do and have a voice like that. No woman stands a chance." I mutter under my breath.

"If you're coming on to me, the answer is no." His voice is cold and standoffish.

"What! Absolutely not!" I deny heatedly, flabbergasted by his arrogance. "I'm not coming on to you. Yes, you're hot, but I don't jump at strangers." I add for good measure. "At all."

"Well, that's reassuring," He remarks dryly, ironically less hostile yet looking unconvinced. "It's the first time a woman laughs at my voice and then looks horrified by the idea of sleeping with me."

"Then I'm honored to be the first." I retort peevishly, the haze of his impressive looks clearing instantly. Now that I have the chance to scrutinize him, he's not a pretty boy but, something lethally male lurks beneath. "Rest assured, I have no intention of preying upon you. I'm just here to finish a job."

"A job?" He echoes silkily, eyes drifting from my face to the tip of my strappy heels.

Hold up.

He's not getting any wrong ideas about me in this getup, is he?

His stoic expression betrays nothing. Like a fool, I blush, wondering what he's thinking. A man like him has probably seen and slept with his fair share of beautiful women. "Yes, I'm in the performing band tonight." I stress the word band, then raise my honey. "No alcohol for me."

He adopts a thoughtful expression. "Are you acquainted with the host?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm just here to sing. This lounge's owner is a close friend. You could say I'm fulfilling a favor."

At that moment, the strobe lights hit his eyes and I swear a predatory glint flashes in those dark orbs. It's enough to briefly paralyze me. Like a snake being charmed, I can't tear my gaze away from his. "I-If you're here for the party, that means you're a friend?"

He grunts, taking another sip. "Hardly. He's just a business obligation."

It isn't his words, but how he said them. Like flicking a bug off one's shoulder. It must be nice being a man of his position. Everything about him screams money and power.

"An obligation." The word rolls off my tongue. "Is that why you look bored? Then again, I'm sure you're invited to these parties all the time."

"Don't tell me you find this interesting?" He looks out at the partygoers, his tone unmistakably mocking.

I shrug, hardly offended. "I don't know. This is my first time attending a fancy party and I'm not even here voluntarily."

If I hadn't been staring so intently, I might have missed the microscopic quirk of his lips. "Well, I'm not here voluntarily either,"

His confession surprises me, and for the first time tonight, he chuckles. I join him by laughing at our expense, tilting my drink towards him. "Well then. Cheers to being comrades in the same predicament."

Our gazes hold. Seconds tick by before he taps his glass against mine.

It's intense.

I want to pat myself on the back for this exceptional progress. Usually, I degenerate into a bumbling idiot who can't string two sentences together, yet here I am...seemingly flirting with an Adonis.

"Are you any good?" He changes the topic, regarding me with mild curiosity. His sudden interest gives me goosebumps.

"Good at what?"

"Singing."

"Hmm." I swivel on my barstool to fully face him. "That depends on your personal preference in music."

"And what's yours?"

I think long and hard. It's an easy question but since I love music, it's difficult for me. "I don't have a specific preference per se. All music genres are beautiful to listen to. Each of them holds a unique character."

He gives me a curious look. "Unique in character? An interesting way to describe music."

"Music is like people. No two people are alike, and how they make you feel or react depends on that individual. The same goes for music. Each genre invokes contrasting moods for various situations. Though," My head tilts closer. "I'm partial to rock music and lo-fi hip hop."

This time, I'm the one who surprises him, though it's amazing how he still manages to look condescending. "What?" I give a nervous laugh. "Is my answer so unexpected?"

"Yes," He answers promptly with a hint of bafflement.

There's a rigidity to him that makes me want to tease, a coy nature waking up inside of me. Leaning close enough to catch a whiff of his expensive cologne, I openly flirt. "And what kind of music do you think I listen to if I never told you?"

Again, he looks me over, a finger tapping his whiskey glass. "Definitely pop music."

I burst out laughing, attracting attention. "That's such a cliché answer. Are you rationalizing that just because I'm a woman, I listen to pop music?"

"Who doesn't listen to pop music?" He responds with his quick wit.

"That's true. It's a common genre but," I eye him mischievously. "If I had to judge you upon your cover, I'd peg you for a classical music type."

"You couldn't be more wrong." His tone is deadpanned yet mirth dances in his eyes. I can't help but stare. Huh. He does know how to be playful.

Suddenly, a man clears his throat from behind. "Excuse me Ms. Yang, you're needed backstage."

It's time already? My heart falls at the thought of ending our conversation, but all good things come to an end, right? At least I enjoyed myself. I nod at the waiter. "Thank you. I'll be there in a minute."

Shifting my attention back to the handsome stranger, I throw him an apologetic look. "I'm afraid that's my cue to leave." Sliding down from the bar stool, I smile widely. "If you're not going to ditch the party, why don't you listen for yourself if I'm good or not."

It's unnerving how he just nods curtly, dismissing me. With a more subdued smile, I gather the hem of my dress and amble towards the stage, disappearing behind the curtains.