#xantara

“It’s not a medical condition to have needs, Perla. Just count your blessings that I don’t see you like that, or we would be having an entirely different conversation,” she retorted dryly. 

Perla furrowed her brows. “Okay, we’ll circle back on whether or not that was an insult. Back to the topic at hand – what are you going to do about your little predicament.” 

Xana leaned back against the bar and downed the rest of her drink. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do,” she said as she set her glass down, “I swear, I’m gonna fuck the next person that walks through that door.” Her gaze locked onto the entrance of the club, waiting to see who would be her mark, and hoping it was someone she actually would want to sleep with so Perla didn’t call her bluff. 

No more than two minutes later, the door opened and a petite brunette walked in. She looked around, clearly trying to spot someone, before shrugging and going up to the bar and ordering a drink.

“You come here often? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” she did her best to come off as cool, just barely interested, while she was less subtle in checking the woman out. 

“Nope, just moved here from Newfoundland,” she chirped. “I’m Tara, by the way.”

Xana tried her best not to smirk. She knew she could eat this girl alive without batting an eye, but she didn’t want to scare her off either – she had a sort of wide-eyed enthusiasm that she just couldn’t take away from her yet. “Xana, pleasure to meet you,” she drawled. 

Tara smiled, though she could feel her heartbeat quicken under the intensity of Xana’s gaze. “You too. Have you lived here long?”