“Do I know you?”

Even in his clouded daze, Jake noticed the odd familiarity with which he was called. A cold feeling came over him. It was strangely similar to what gripped him in those tense moments back in the Afghan mountains when he was the prey, not the predator. Despite his inebriated state, the body followed instinct and shifted to ready mode.

He quickly glanced at the intruder. A clean-shaven, handsome face looked back at him. It wore a knowing smile and an aura of wealth. Of power. Jake was pissed off. He would have told the guy to fuck off, but something in him held back.

“No, not really. But our security systems here are state of the art. Face-recognition software included. We ran an immediate check on you when Roger became… incapacitated.”

Jake’s mind cleared a bit as his adrenaline kicked in. If true, then it promised things he didn’t want to be reminded about. His background was something he wanted to forget. He hoped the backcheck was limited in scope.

He was wrong.

“Jake E. Santos. Marine, SEAL, Delta Force, and then reassigned to the NSA as field cybersecurity personnel. That’s the official designation. Honorably discharged. Most of your files require TS/SCI clearance. Medals galore, some under TS classification. Recently fired from work. The subject of divorce proceedings.”

“Fucking internet,” Jake cursed. “What else? My shoe size, shit and fart times?”

“Sorry, Jake. You’re in the cyber field. You know what the tech is capable of,” answered the man with a tight smile. “I am Darryl, by the way.”

“Give me a drink while I try to forget the fucking intrusion on my privacy,” he answered angrily.

Darryl raised his hand, and a glass of whiskey appeared before Jake.

“The man is quick as the Devil,” he commented with wonder.

“That he is. Not the Devil, of course, but nearly there,” replied his companion.

The bartender returned and placed a bottle and an ice holder before Jake.

“On the house,” said Darryl. “Just consider possible employment here.”

“As a bouncer? Nah. There’s too great a chance for fatal accidents,” Jake answered, shaking his head.

The man rested both arms on the counter. Idly, Jake noticed the fingers were long and thin. A diamond-encrusted watch graced the wrist, gold bands the fingers.

Save me. A freaking rich millennial.

"You're overqualified for that, Jake. Though I am curious why you believe there's a chance for lethal mishaps."

"Too long in the field, too fond of drink, too much muscle memory, uncontrolled instinctive reaction. I don't trust myself with anything involving physical conflict," replied Jake as he tossed another shot of whiskey down.

Darryl laughed, the sound verging on tittering. Jake hated it.

"Anyway, come back tomorrow night. We'll talk about the job offer. It pays well, Jake. Very well," finally said Darryl, just as a woman in a black dress sidled up to him.

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She was beautiful, though the face looked weary. Her curvy figure was wrapped in a thin black dress which almost left nothing to the imagination. The lights coming from the dance floor didn’t show panty lines. Nor was she wearing any bra to constrict the ample mounds of tantalizing flesh. Jake could see her nipples as they pushed again the gauzy fabric.

"Darius, darling. Who's your friend? He looks delicious," the brunette newcomer exclaimed, slowly looking at Jake from head to toe. He started to feel hot. Suddenly, her hand reached out and held his biceps.

Her touch was unnaturally cold against Jake's warm flesh. As he involuntarily drew back from the unexpected and uncomfortable sensation, Darryl's hand shot out and grabbed the woman's wrist. She gave an anguished cry and dropped to her knees on the floor, her arm still held by the man.

Darryl leaned down and whispered in the woman's left ear. The woman turned her head to the side. Jake could see she was visibly shaking. He noticed the grip on the wrist was painfully tight. The skin around the area of the wrist gripped by Daryl wrinkled from the force exerted by the man.

"Hey, man. It's okay. No reason to get rough, even if she's your girlfriend," said Jake.

Darryl let go of the wrist in a forceful downward motion, throwing the hand back at the now bowed woman slumped on the floor. Nobody seemed to notice the little drama. The man stood up and glanced at Jake.

"Enjoy our hospitality tonight, Mr. Santos. I'll see you tomorrow night," said Darryl in another tight smile. Then he walked away. The woman got up and quickly scampered after him. Jake stared at their backs as they disappeared in the crowd of dancers.

Weirdos, he thought. And Darius? Well, if I were him, I would have gone with Darryl too.

***

Jake had a few more drinks and left. The incident gnawed at his instincts. It made him uncomfortable and made him decide to find another place. His bottle was still three-fourths full, but the bartender promised to keep it for him. He was intended to come back - the mysterious job offer intrigued him. The statement that it would pay well did help.

As long as it's not illegal, he thought as he made his tipsy way to the door. His drunkenness was lifting. Fuck this metabolism. At this rate, I won't be able to get plastered.

He went out to the dark and deserted alley and saw the neon lights of another pub farther down. Jake gave an anticipatory smile and walked toward the place. Midway to his destination, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the side street and stood in the middle of the road.

"Hi, Jake." It was a feminine voice.

Fuck. It's Darryl's girlfriend, realized Jake as he recognized the voice. He stopped. The figure slowly moved toward him. His eyes swept around the street. A quick glance at his back revealed nobody. They were alone in that darkened stretch.

"Oh, hi. Does Darryl know you're out here?" he asked.

"No."

Now, this is a shit of a situation. I'm going to blow my chance at employment for a quick street fuck?

"I think you should go back to the club, Miss. I would hate to blow my chance at new employment because of you," said Jake.

The woman didn't stop and continued walking to him, nonchalantly removing one of the straps of her black dress.

"Why? Don't you like me, Jake? Am I not sexy enough for you?" said the figure, a strange sensuous sultriness now accompanied her voice.

"I don't like fucking with another guy's girlfriend, that's all," he replied. He was now finding it difficult to think. It was weird, but he was getting a hard-on.

"He doesn't have to know," came the provocative answer, full of erotic promises. The other strap had dropped.

Jake tried to reply, but found he couldn't think straight. The woman was now a few feet away, so close that he could smell her sultry perfume. He sensed something was wrong about the entire situation, but a powerful lust threatened to overcome whatever resistance his addled brain was putting up. He violently shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

The woman stood before him. He felt sexually excited as never before as an overwhelming need for her rose and set him on fire. His mind was clouded by an uncontrollable desire to fuck. Suddenly, he forcibly embraced the woman, took in her overpowering sexual scent, and started kissing her neck as his hands raced through her voluptuous form. All his senses were now drunk with her scent and nearness, and he didn't feel the unusual coldness of the woman's touch. All Jake craved was to take her there, in the middle of the darkened street.

As she embraced him back, Jake felt another uncontrollable surge of hunger for her. He could feel her breath on his neck and nearly lost it from the incredible sensation. His hands gripped her ass as he continued licking up to her ear.

Then he felt the bite on his neck.

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