The relatively small dance floor at Light Nightclub, on the strip in Las Vegas, was packed with sweaty, half-lit pretty people undulating to a tempestuous beat. Trinity Irish was easily 100 bodies deep from the DJ shaking her ass with three of her best girlfriends: Rae, Beth and Junie. Some random, but harmless, guys attached themselves to the girls early on in the night and they were supplying them with bottomless drinks from the bar; probably in hope that one of them would score, but more than likely just so they could stay close to the prettiest girls in the club as the night wore on. Every so often Rae or Beth would toss the guys a bone and dance with them for a few songs.
The guys were generous and maybe a bit too clingy but definitely harmless and from out of state just like the girls. The girls didn’t mind the company and the guys didn’t mind buying them drinks. It was a good partnership so far.
The shy guy with glasses handed Trinity another flirty-named drink. A sex-on-the-whatever bomb. It was melting quickly in the plastic cup. She took a quick sip from a neon pink straw, winked at the shy guy and elbowed one of her best friends. They shared a look that confirmed the night was going well. It was probably midnight, no one wears a watch in Las Vegas, a wild night could most definitely manifest like they planned. It’s still very early and there were rumors about who was in town tonight. Trinity’s favorite band. Rae’s favorite stylist. Beth preferred anyone who could be called famous. Junie was just along for the ride. Something could most certainly happen tonight. Trinity twisted her long hair in to a loose braid so her tattoos would be on full display. Her calling card; a call to the wild.
Most people, at some point in their lives, have or will experience a night just like the one Trinity, Rae, Beth and Junie are seeking. If they could remember it, that is. A wild ride. The type so ridiculously indulgent that it’s simply impossible not to have the time of your life and forget all about the bullshit from the real world for a night. The girls planned on drinking themselves in to oblivion, puking out their problems as needed and never mentioning this night again. If any one of them wanted to sneak back to the suite with a guy they just met, no one was going to judge. This trip was all about being wild. Over the top. And downright insane. It should go without saying: What happens in Vegas…
The smoldering bodies on the crowded dance floor oscillated around the girls as they unwound to the ephemeral tracks the DJ was unleashing on them. There wasn’t much room to dance, but thats probably a good thing. Trinity’s crew of girls are pretty, hot even, and that’s a blessing because none of them can actually dance worth a shit. They can jump, beebop, sway, shake their butts, point at the air then at the floor like the Village People …but they definitely can’t dance.
Trinity Irish handed the shy guy her empty cup and ground her ass in to a 20-something kid with a pierced eyebrow. He slid his hands along her waist and over the tattoos that decorated her bare skin. The Echelon symbol, glyphs and the lyrics to her favorite 30 Seconds to Mars songs were among the many exposed on her shoulders, upper arms and back. Trinity has that rock-chick look thats still hella-girly but with an edge. More rockabilly than rollergirl. She has pale skin and ridiculously long black hair that she styles with big rollers and lots of pins. Eyes so blue they look fake. A tiny pierced nose, high cheeks laden with more piercings and naturally long and enviably thick eye lashes that she has colored purple for the night. She wears lots of black eyeliner but that is offset by her bright eyeshadow and pinky-pink lips. All that makeup might make her sound like a clown but really she’s all rock-n-roll. Trinity wears tattoos instead of jewelry. Roses in rings around her fingers. Triads and stars form bracelets around her wrists. Soft purples and pinks. Greens that are more lime than emerald. Reds that compliment the yellows. Feminine.
Trinity placed her hands on top of her new pierced-friend’s hands as they moved their hips together to the beat. Dude needed to be kept in line. She slapped his hand more than once as he made a move for the boob. “Knock it off” she said sternly. He still tried to get a little too handsy a little too quickly so she slipped away from him and twerked up on her best girlfriend. Her friend, already deeply embedded in the fun stage of inebriation, slapped her ass and rode her to the beat. Then they sandwiched the shy guy and danced on him as the pierced wanna-be punk got the hint and huffed away.
The shy guy turned three different shades of green, as the girls danced on either side of him, before his skin settled on a bright red color. Two-glasses-of-wine-and-already-spun-out-of -her-mind Junie Robertson thought his reaction was precious so she attempted to flat-out murder the kid by kissing him full on the mouth while Trinity shimmied his hips side to side. Lots of tongue and a little too much traded spit later Junie screamed in Trinity’s ear over shy guy’s shoulder “I Fucking Love You So Much..You Just Don’t Even Know!” and Trinity shouted back “I Love You Too!” The song switched to something more melodic and Junie laid her spinning head down on the shy guy’s shoulder and found out with great disappointment that his name is George. George Victor George.
An hour or so later George George had gotten to second base with Junie and Trinity was bored. Trinity pulled her iphone out of her bra and sent a group text to the girls “Club is HOTTT boys are NOTTT.” Little by little the girls all received her text and rolled their eyes or nodded emphatically in agreement while still moving to the beat. “I think I’m going to take George George’s virginity.” was the one text she got back, from Junie of course.
“Should we leave?” Trinity texted the group. No one saw the text because all eyes were on an oblivious Trinity Irish who was throwing her hands up in the air like she just don’t care and on the person who had just made his way through the mass of bodies to be by her side.
Trinity was fantasizing about being a Cirque de Soleil dancer and waiting for her friends to reply when she felt a hand grasp her arm. Something about the squeeze was immediately calming and not alarming. It was familiar. Only someone who knew they owned her would clasp their hand around her like that. Anyone else would get a knee to the crotch. She sensed it was him but her imagination was always working overtime. There was no way … But just in case, Trinity didn’t turn around to see who grabbed her by the arm, instead she looked over to her friends to gauge their reaction. If it was who she was hoping it was clenching her upper arm, there were rumors swirling that he was in town, it would show on their face immediately. She flashed her eyes towards her girls and the harmless clingers and they were starring wide-eyed back at her. No one was afraid that someone had grabbed Trinity by the arm but everyone was most definitely in shock. She took that as a yes. It was him. She inhaled deeply and memorized the sensation on her upper arm. The intensity of his grip.
Jared Joseph Leto was holding Trinity Ophelia Irish tightly by the arm.
Trinity recognized his grasp though he has never touched her before. She’s seen him do it a dozen times. Directing fans across the stage. Pulling a lucky someone in to his embrace. She’s imagined how it felt a thousand times or more. Her imagination fixated on the suggestion that he liked to be in control. He probably saw her tattoos illuminated by the lights in the club like a beacon. She smiled. A honing beacon meant for other Echelon, but instead snagged the biggest fish.
She refocused on his grip. In her mind, Trinity has twisted his familiar but still tawdry gesture in to a torrid sex fantasy she liked to visit over and over again when she was alone in her bedroom. The type of fantasy that required the lights be off and the ceiling fan be set on high. A fantasy that involved Jared wrapping those splendid hands around her neck tightly and squeezing her throat ever so gingerly so that the oxygen became sparse and the ecstasy became full bodied. She’d float up in the air while he filled her with his hardy cock. Too talented at this game to kill her, he’d only fulfill her. Pleasurable pain. Measured and delivered with love. Trinity absentmindedly licked her lips as she came back to the present again.
Maybe she had finally had too much to drink. Why would Jared Leto be here? This club is hot but this night isn’t really on his level. But, alas, the room wasn’t spinning. Her friends weren’t escorting her to the bathroom. And she still felt his pressure on her skin. It might be true.
Only a second or two had passed as Trinity digested his appearance at her side. She tried to focus. Figure out how to react. She knows what she’d do if this were her fantasy but it’s not. Or is it? Does she have the balls to respond the way she always dreamed she’d do?
Jared squeezed her arm ever so slightly to alert her to his presence again. Who knows what he was thinking about her non-response. She pretended not to notice and prayed he couldn’t feel her shaking ever so slightly beneath his grip while she worked up the nerve to respond. She leaned in to her friends and pretended to be too busy to notice him because she was engrossed in a very important conversation with her clique.
His long fingers could reach almost completely around her upper arm and they held her firmly in place as the pressure sent a thousand instructions through her body. But Trinity Irish is not submissive. She wouldn’t give in to his control. She thought about his delicate and almost feminine fingers sliding inside her. Stroking her bud. Burying deep. If she wasn’t already sweating from dancing, the moisture on the back of her neck would give her away. But she’s not submissive goddammit and she refused to give in to him.
Too much time was passing now, nearly a full minute, she had to react or she might lose his attention all together. Trinity inhaled deep, storing oxygen in her toes, and turned around. Before saying a word she planted her free hand firmly on Jared’s dick. Her fingertips grazed his balls. Jared and Trinity were face to face now. Eye to eye. Lip nearly to lip. His cock warming up in her hand while he held tightly to her upper arm. The skin twisting beneath his fingers since she turned around. A nightclub filled with bodies surrounding them. Nosey people. The star fucker sort. People with camera phones and generic Instagram accounts with an audience one hundred million people wide just waiting for the day’s juicy photo.
Jared let go first.
Trinity whispered in his ear “I win.” and let go of his manhood.
“That doesn’t count.” He replied back. His hands now on both of her shoulders. His well manicured nails digging ever so slightly in to her skin. Jared looked delicious tonight. His long ombred hair was pulled up in a big claw clip. Wisps were escaping the clip and haphazardly hanging here and there. He looked like he may have been dancing for a while too. Hot but not sweaty. Jared was wearing a sheer black top unbuttoned just enough to expose his sparkling cross necklace, extra-long sleeves, vegan leather cuff, black jeans, crazy printed socks and unzipped boots. He looked like he was half-devil half-god incarnate. The lights of the club gliding over him making him all the more attractive.
She kissed him on the cheek and said “The score is Trinity Irish: One.” she made a number one sign with her pointer finger and slid it across his lips “and Jared Leto: Zero.” She created a big zero by putting both hands together and then she turned away from him and back to her friends. You can go now, she thought to herself in effort to sell that message with her body language knowing full well that Jared likes a challenge and wouldn’t take orders from her. The night is still very young and Trinity was suddenly horny as hell, she hoped she pissed him off. She was dying to find out if she pissed him off.
Trinity dropped her jaw open and widened her eyes to her girlfriends who were watching the whole thing as she waited for his next move. Inside her heart was racing and if she wasn’t already nearly soaked through, you’d feel her palms filling with sweat and the back of her neck getting hotter. Jared slid in behind Trinity and leaned his body against her so it would look like they were dancing instead of having a tete-a-tete. They moved to the beat while Jared grumbled in her ear “I said that doesn’t count.” His hands moved over her tattoos much the same as the pierced kid but she let Jared run his thumb over her nipple and his hands between her legs as she sank backwards in to him. They were dancing while his hands roamed and for once, Trinity looked really good doing it.
“Some dom you are.” she snarked.
Jared ground his hips in to her, locked one of her arms behind her back and ran his free hand up her neck. Trinity’s head spun. The crowd checked them out but eventually went back to their own business as it looked like Trinity and Jared must be old friends (friends with benefits). Maybe Trinity Irish is famous too. A few people speculated then went back to their own drinks and their own lives (after snapping a few photos to tweet just how spectacular their lives are…look a celebrity in their midst…that’ll get them 13 likes for sure! of course)
Jared’s cock was erect and pressed hard in to her back as he squeezed her neck ever so slightly. His hand disappeared in to her hair and he pulled it. She was imagining what she’d do with his cock if given the chance when he abruptly stepped back and possibly walked away. She didn’t want to look over her shoulder to see if he had gone but she couldn’t help it.
He was standing there just a pace or two behind her. She grimaced. Dammit. He stepped forward, pulled her into his arms and said in to her ear “I think we’re tied now.” before taking a fistful of her ass in his hand and biting her hard on the neck. Trinity surrendered and they disappeared off the dance floor.
– – – – – – – – – – – –
Jared led Trinity off the dance floor, towards the stairs that lead to VIP, with his right hand on the small of her back. It was a very subtle gesture, she could barely feel his hand there, but it was a very suggestive gesture just the same. It gave orders: head this way, not that. Move forward. Keep going. Don’t stop. It laid claim. Made one of them the leader, the other the follower.
As Trinity came to understand who was leading who, she reminded the cosmos that she’s not submissive. She felt the need to remind Jared of the same. Their arrangement needed readjustment…quickly; so she stopped walking forward. He stumbled in to her, the front of his shoe collapsing in to her heel and she outwardly snickered. They shared a look. He wasn’t happy; she was delighted.
It was quite obvious Trinity is playing a game and it was starting to piss him off. He wasn’t interested in all this. He just wanted to sink his dick deep down inside her. Bite at her tattoos as he came on her back. He didn’t want the rest of the fanfare. The trouble.
Jared sighed as she tried to assert her dominance on him. Such a useless effort on her part. They all submit, eventually. It used to be a lot less work getting a fan in to bed before he made that damn Hurricane video. Everyone thinks they’re BDSM now. Though very very few actually are. Takes a lot more than a set of handcuffs to get Jared off.
“Move your fucking ass.” he grumbled before nudging her ahead, his hand firmer on the dip in her back. She took one step to steady herself but stayed put like a pouting child standing her ground. Her arms might as well be crossed over her chest, her bottom lip puffed out, a giant rainbow colored swirl lollipop in her hand and a cute little fucking tiny yip-yapping puppy in the other. He pushed her with force this time…her feet lifted off the sticky black floor tile. Trinity gazed back over her shoulder, a look on her face that he has seen only a handful of times before. One that said “you’re fucking with the wrong chick.”
He was inches behind her and he was getting hard. “Go over to the stairs.” he mouthed to her.
“Why?” she asked back.
“Because I said so…” he said and that made her turn completely around.
“Kiss me.” she demanded.
Jared looked at her, not at the crowd like she expected and said “No.”
“Then I wont go.”
“Then you don’t go …” and he stepped to the side as if he were going to walk around her and leave. She turned around and returned to the dance floor. Immediately sidling up to a stranger and grinding her behind in to his crotch. Jared watched for a moment then took three giant steps towards her and grabbed her by the wrist and he pulled her (not quite kicking or screaming …thats later) the rest of the way to the stairs.
Trinity smiled ear to ear as she struggled to keep his pace. She didn’t want to make a scene but she did like winning round two of this game. A game with Jared Leto. The master of his little kingdom. So full of it that he wore a gold crown on stage. A scepter was next. She saw one in the casino’s gift shop and suspected he might have one of equal impress in his pants.
Let’s play a game Leto. A naughty game. A naked game.
You be the gamer sitting crossed legged on the floor,
Trinity will meet you on Level Eight.
“You’re naughty.” he said as they entered the dark side of the club near the staircase. An occasional wave of light would circle by them like a beam from a lighthouse searching for lost ships.
“No I’m not.”
“Oh, but you are. I can already tell.” he pinched her chin “Wait here.” Jared commanded as he climbed the steps to VIP two at a time.
Trinity debated what to do in that moment. There’s a very fine line between building the sexual tension and being just plain old fucking annoying and too much work. She thought about hiding. Walking away. Making him chase her again. But before she could make up her mind about what to do next, a few people were coming down the stairs and giving her dirty looks.
Jared was at the top of the stairs now, crooking his finger at her. Telling her to come up and join him. She complied at once then immediately regretted it.
“Now that you’ve got me up here what are you …” Trinity began to speak but was quickly cut off by Jared grabbing her by the chin and lifting her slightly so she stumbled backwards on her heels until she slammed up against the wall. Trinity was shocked by his aggressiveness. Not prepared with a reaction. Tears stung her eyes. Not from pain, not from fear, but from being out done. She wasn’t prepared for that…that immediate shift of control. Her loss, his gain.
Trinity’s coyness evaporated as he held her face in his hands. Not a romantic gesture. Not kind or with pity. He was growling at her through his fingertips. Backing her in to a corner lest he bite. She had no idea what to do or how to respond with her lips puckered beneath his fingertips and her heart beating itself free from its cage.
She stared in to his eyes. Eyes like a vampire’s. Azure lace over ice. And waited for his next move. He was content with staring. Pushing his hips lazily in to her. Breathing her in. His lips close to her neck. Her ear. Grinding himself against her bones. “You’re hurting me.” Trinity protested as Jared’s fingers dug deeper in to the skin around her mouth. She could feel desire warm him though his movements were quite cold and more than likely heavily calculated.
He was taking a risk with Trinity. Assuming she would give in. Not from fear but from her own selfish need. A need so apparent, she was almost too easy a mark. He thought about insulting her. Calling attention to all the ways her body was betraying her mind. The sweet smells emanating from the secret places on her body he wanted to penetrate. How, though pinned as she were, she hadn’t fought back. Didn’t shove, kick or slap him. Her hands perfectly free. Able to strike. Pull hair. Physically protest. Her knees able to connect with his groin in an instant should she feel so inclined.
And he wondered then, as he dragged his lips across her collarbone, if he should remind her that, in spite of all of that potential, she had done nothing to dissuade him. But it was getting late and he needed to be inside her now. To satisfy his own selfish need and to get out of this fucking club and away from all the lights, shitty music and cirque de soliel dancers.
Want flavored venom bubbled under the surface of Jared’s pretty face. His long hair, untamed and golden like a lion’s mane, hung across his arm as it stretched out to her face. Her breasts inches from his forearm. Deep breaths heaving her cleve up and down before him. A seductive dance. Enchanting and distracting.
“Shhh. Trust me.” he said before releasing his hand from her face and replanting it firmly around her throat. He lifted her again and she was forced to stand on her tippy toes or be hung from his wrist. Her oxygen supply lessened by his grip on her throat. She felt light headed.
“Stop it.” she said and he let her down and slid his hand deep in to her hair.
Jared’s lips moved over the tender skin around her mouth, kissing where he felt the flames he left behind and he whispered in her ear “Do you want me?”
And Trinity’s body betrayed her in a wave of lust. She quickened and she gasped “Yes.”
And he took her right there. Against the wall in the VIP. His pants at his ankles. Her skirt around her waist. And he entered her without tasting her. And he filled her with violent strokes as he pounded against her flesh with fury. His mouth angry against her skin. Tearing at her breasts with his fingertips. Palms full with her like a butcher and hunks of meat. A breast, her ass, a thigh as he ground deeper, then her hips as he lifted her higher…
She was a rag doll on a pedestal. Raised up from the floor, impaled by Jared and held aloft as the intensity increased and increased. Legs wrapped around him. Fabric arms, no elbows, draped over his shoulders because they had no where else to go. No job to do. No strength until without warning she came hard with him deep inside of her. Opening wider to accept his seed, spiraling in to the beyond as a reward for a million years of procreation. She came so hard she dug her nails in to the skin of his back. She arched and drew blood as the orgasm rippled through her.
Jared’s shirt was torn by her well manicured tips as she grabbed at him in the throws of ecstasy. Her orgasm followed quickly by a second. His strokes so fast and so deep. Hitting all of her sweet spots. Her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Lids heavy with lust. Everything aching all at once.
Trinity was fulfilled. On top of a stranger who smirked and then pulled himself from her. His orgasm covering her thigh as he set her down on the ground again. He leaned in to her. One hand above her, an incomplete cage. She remained there in silence, waiting for his instruction. Owned. Easily. Obviously. And completely.
Trinity Irish 0
Jared Leto …. 1