Callan x Notte

[Callan]

The summer breeze blew gently through the alleyways and streets of the bustling city. A young man, stumbled across the road, narrowly missing a motorcyclist and several cars. He shouldered through the large mass of people gathered outside the cities newest, flourishing, club; "Tempest". Sweeping his fringe from his forehead, Rowan Harris blinked blearily at the long line snaking out of the doorway. Pushing part of the way through, he stood and waited.
Eventually, he reached the rent of the line, looking at the man who blocked he entrance to the club. He was a typical bouncer, built like a tank and around six foot with a shaven head and wearing a dark suit. Yet Rowan dwarfed him, with a height of 6'7 and a lean, muscular build to match. The bouncer accepted the credit card without glancing at the age verification, allowing the 24 year old into the club.

Rowan smiled his thanks and shoved his way through the clubs bustling crowd, making his way for the bar. After seating himself on one of the high stools, he placed a bank note on the bar and ordered. "Johnny Walker Black." He said, looking at himself in the mirror which was opposite him. His dark mahogany hair was swept to one side, with a natural wave gifting it. His icy blue eyes stared back at him as he checked that his plain white tee shirt didn't have any stains on it. His tanned skin attracted a fair amount of girls, but he ignored most of them, preferring one night stands to actual relationships.
The waiter behind the bar handed him a glass, containing his favoured amber drink. He snapped out of his trance and nodded his thanks. Taking a sip, he turned his head slightly towards the crowd and looked over the people dancing in the crowds, enjoying the familiar burn of alcohol going down his throat. A scowl of disapointment took over his features and he turned back to the bar, downing the rest of his drink in one before he joined the mass of dancers.

After around an hour, he returned to the bar, a thin sheen of sweat over his forehead and a small, satisfied smile in place on his mouth. He nodded at the waiter who brought him another drink. Roman placed his credit card on the bench-top, sliding it over and punching the pin into the machine bared to him effortlessly. The waiter was called away by another clubber, giving Rowan a small smile of apology. Rowan waved him away and hunched over his drink, focussing on the rich liquid in front of him. He appeared to be in a trance, or at least far away in his mind as he took a sip from the glass.

 

[Notte]

Isobel Reus followed her instincts to the club, the pounding of the music, rising beats of the heart, the smell of sweat and lust hung on the air and tempted her, just as the name implied. A perfect place to find a willing participant, someone who wanted a thrill and maybe a little bit more. Raven black hair hung down her back in an artful display of volume and waves to her ass, passing her barely there green and black plaid skirt, and coming to rest just above the clips of her garters and ripped diamond thigh highs. The line was long as she approached and she ignored it going straight to the front to the bouncer, her glittering black six inch kitten heels put her just below the height of the bouncer at 5'9. Leaning into him, she purred into his ear as her full, plump, heavy black silk corseted breasts pushed into the mans chest, her hand running down his arm to tease. "Can I get in handsome?" Her voice was low, smokey, hypnotic.

The man nodded his head and opened the velvet roped that blocked the doors entrance. Ignoring the pissed off remarks of people that were waiting in line. As she got to the bar, the waiter came over to her with a quick smile on his lips. "I'd like a Vampire's Kiss." The drink was quickly made and she downed it in one go before she disappeared onto the dance floor. Trying to make sure no one realized she wasn't reflected in the mirrors. In corners of the dance floor there were raised daises and she jumped up onto one that had poles both vertical and horizontal. The beat picked up as the DJ switched songs and she started to move her body, almost as if she were making love to herself or someone imaginary, a promise of pleasure to anyone who would care to play. She needed pleasure to feed her duel hunger. Her ivory white skin was like snow against the darkness around her, the lights playing off of her like a beacon. Another trick to call out to those worthy of her and what she could offer.

 

[Callan]

Rowan turned around, listening to the DJ pick up the beat and cocking his head slightly. His level of sobriety was questionable as he finished his drink and shoved himself of the stool to look for the cause of the tempo change. He scanned he dance floor before picking up the raised platforms and spotting the caused of the change on songs immediately. It was a beautiful women, dancing on the poles as if she was born for that sole purpose. His eyes followed her movements as if he was entrance and he set his glass down, making his way towards the corner where she was dancing. There was already a crowd of eager males, which he promptly shoved his way through. He was taller than most of them, so it wasn't too hard. He watched her perform a particularly exquisite move which had his manhood hardening, before he reached the front of the crowd. He kept his eyes trained on her and cracked the knuckles of his favoured left hand absentmindedly. She was beautiful enough to have men surging forward and offering to by her drinks, but Rowan was more entranced than that. He rubbed his hand on the trouser leg of his jeans and shoved back a man who had looked as if he was about to interrupt the women.

The man gave him a dirty look, but Rowan's scowl was enough to prevent him from trying again. Rowan offered a crocked grin and a hand down from the stage, cocking his head at her at the same time. "A drink to match your beauty miss?"

 

[Notte]

Isobel watched as the crowd around her grew, men and a few women, all entranced by her seductive dance. The smell of sex, growing lust, alcohol, and drugs hit her nostrils. And as she continued to dance she mentally removed the people on drugs around her from her list. Looking out over her growing crowd, she watched as a tower of a man made his way towards her, pushing people out of his way. It felt as if she were a shining beacon in the darkness for him, calling him, enslaving him. As he watched she moved her body more erotically, using a pole like it was a lover, using it as if she were a stripper. She purred as he grew near and his sole scent filled her, the aggression of a male staking his claim on her as he pushed away someone who tried to stop her. A satisfied smile raised her painted red lips, looking for the world like a cat who just had cream.

As he offered his hand, she continued dancing, her eyes locked on his. She danced closer and closer to him, taller than him on the raised dais. Pulling him closer to the dais with his outstretched hand, she started to dance against his body, offering him dark promises of what could come. Running one hand down his offered arm until she reached his neck, wrapping her hand around it and pulling herself forward until his face was almost nestled in her cleavage. Wrapping first one leg around his torso, she rocked her whole body against him like cat. Wrapping both legs around him, she let her upper body twist back while still moving against him with her hips in slow deliberate circles, her nails trailing with a slight bite at his neck as she released him to watch how her body could move against and use him. With only her powerful legs to holding her, she arched backwards until her hair trailed on the floor and her breasts were hiding her face, and still her body wreathed with the dance and his seduction. Her hands played at her hips before moving up her stomach and torso like a lover reaching towards her own breasts to tease herself and him with the sight. Slowly as she used her hands on her upper body, she dance herself upwards until she was facing him again, her head still leveled above his. Leaning in she pressed her lips to his ear, "You can get me whatever the hell you want, just as long as you get me out of here." Voice low, a mixture between honey and smoke, as she purred to him.

 

[Callan]

Rowan blinked, momentarily surprised as she yanked him onto the stage. He stood, confused as she moved sensually around him, as if she were a cat, moving with the same beauty flexibility and strength. He felt the primal urge to take her there and then, on the stage, stir up, but considered interrupting the erotic dance which was being displayed before him by an equally sensual women. He almost lost this willpower as she wrapped her powerful legs around his waist, wreathing against him and continuing her sensual dance even as she came closer to him. His breath quickened as she leant in and he cocked his head towards her, allowing him to hear her honeyed voice better over the noise of the club DJ and crowd. Her words were breath quickening and cock-hardening, and his immediate reaction was to gaze at her and check if she was serious. After a glance, he pressed a hand to the small of her back to help support her as he carried her down from the stage wordlessly, into the crowd which went back to their dancing, the noise going up a pitch, with him making his way to the door. The occasional dirty glance was thrown at Rowan for taking the dancer away from her seductive dance, but he didn't really care.

They made their way toward the doorway, with him pushing and shoving his way through tightlypacked masses of drunk, drugged and barely sober dancers who stumbled about mindlessly, hoping to snag a quick fling at the club. He ignored most of them, only paying real attention when he saw a man shambling over to stop him. He increased his pace, and the drunk missed them, instead stumbling over into another man. Before long they were both swallowed up by the crowd. He paid no attention to the other clubbers, only to the women who he held, one whose beauty mustove been a crime, it was so sensuous.