Where You Can Find Me

©
2
015 by
Fiona Cole

All rights reserved.

Cover Designer: Najla Qamber, Najla Qamber Designs,
www.najlaqamberdesigns.com/

Interior Designer: The Write Assistants,
www.thewriteassistants.com

N
o part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

"
M
issing nineteen year old
, Angela Clemmons, a student at the University of Cincinnati, was last seen leaving the Langsam Library on Tuesday night. Police are requesting that anyone with information come forward.

"University officials have urged students to walk in pairs and, if necessary, to use the emergency ROTC to walk them to their locations at night if they are alone. They are pleading with students to please use caution.

"While the school is patrolled by the campus police and all efforts are being put forth to make it a secure place, it is located just down the road from Vine Street, an area known for its high crime rate.

"Clemmons is the sixth student to have gone missing from the University of Cincinnati in the last seven months. The bodies of five students were recovered days after being reported missing showing signs of multiple trauma and, in some cases, strangulation. The Cincinnati Police Department has not disclosed whether or not these murders are linked, but there is much speculation.”

"
U
gh
!" I placed my coffee cup and journal article down on the coffee table and sat on the couch. The news was beginning to depress me; not the attitude I wanted to start my Saturday morning out with. My head dropped to the back of the couch with a thud and with closed eyes, my hand blindly searched for the remote, turning the television off.

I leaned forward, grabbing my paper and coffee and took a long drink. It was my hug in a mug. Who needed a good morning cuddle when God made coffee? Not me. Caffeine and science got me through my day. Life was good. Lame, but good! Okay ... mostly lame.

Sighing, I pulled my legs up on the couch and curled them underneath each other. I was beginning a new technique in my research lab that week and needed to read the article to get a better understanding of the process. Looking at the ridiculously long title of the paper, I decided to procrastinate a little bit longer. Bringing the coffee cup to my lips, my eyes moved from left to right, looking for something to distract me.

Laundry? Blech … No, thank you!

Grocery shopping? Again, no.

Organizing my clothes by the color of the rainbow? Desperate, but a possibility.

My musings to come up with another pathetic excuse ended when my phone rang.
Thank you sweet baby Jesus!
I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and saw Evie’s name flash across the screen.

“What’s up, chica?”

“Not the number of guys I’ve slept with this month. And you know what? That shit needs to change starting tonight! You. Me. Dancing. I’m a woman on a mission and I need my one and only BFF, Luella King, to be my wingwoman! You in?”

“Well, hello to you too. And when you ask so nicely how could a girl say no? But what are you doing up so early?”

“What can I say, I have a way with words. The ladies can’t resist me. Neither can the guys, but it’s not usually words that get them to agree so easily.” She spoke the truth. “And I’m up this early because I had a design haunting my dreams. I needed to get it down on paper immediately. Inspiration strikes at the most random times. Not that ten-thirty is early.” A pause hung between us as she came to the conclusion I considered ten-thirty early. “What? Did you just get up?”

“No, I’ve been up.” For about thirty minutes. I wasn’t a morning person and loved sleeping in. I loved sleeping period. I didn’t get much during the week, so I took what I could get on the weekends. Evie’s erratic sleep schedule gave me a headache just thinking about it. She could go on very little sleep as long as she had lots of “inspiration.” She was a freelance fashion designer, but worked like a crazy artist. She would go months with nothing and then all of a sudden she’d be hit with the next big thing. During those times, I rarely saw her and when I did, she had a pencil and pad next to her at all times. We had been friends for years, since college, and it never bothered me once I got used to it.

“Whatever you say, girl. I know you just got up and are probably enjoying your ‘hug in a mug’,” Evie replied sarcastically.

“Hey, don’t knock it.” I heard a dramatic sigh at the other end of the phone, and I knew she was waiting for me to get back to the point of her phone call. There would be no putting Evie off. “Sigh. Alright. So when and where and what should I wear tonight?”

“Yes!” Her voice rang with victory. “Wear something sexy and I will meet you at your place at nine tonight. We can take a cab to that new club your brother mentioned last week. See you then, chica. My vagina thanks you!”

And with those sweet parting words she hung up and I began mentally going through my closet for something sexy to wear. I guessed I should at least try to get some work done since I would most likely be hungover tomorrow. I leaned back over to grab my journal article and began to read.

A
fter running errands
, I had less than two hours to get ready. I lived in an older house, close to the downtown Cincinnati area. I had done renovations on it and the old architecture mixed with the modern updates perfectly.

One of those updates included my closet. Originally, it consisted of his and her closets separated by a large empty space behind a wall.
Why?
Why waste all that wonderful, and needed, space? I tore down the wall and made it one large beautiful closet with custom designs including wood drawers and shoe storage.
Especially
the shoe storage. The end result made it worth every penny.

I already knew which outfit I would wear. It was classy with a little bit of sexy thrown in; a black sleeveless dress with a boatneck. It had a large key-hole shaped back and the top was fastened with a button. The sexiest part of the dress was that the left side was cut to mid-thigh while the other draped down to my ankle. It created quite the contradiction. I pulled it out and hung it on the closet door and went to go hop in the shower.

I kept my makeup simple with only heavy, black pin-up style eyeliner to enhance my large, bright green eyes. The contrast between minimal facial makeup and dark eyeliner made my eyes stand out more. Thank goodness, because I wasn’t very skilled with makeup and the less I applied the better. I pulled my hair back in a styled ponytail after adding some waves to it that would fall to the top of the keyhole in my dress. I slipped on the dress and a pair of black strappy heels that zipped to the back of my ankles. Just then, the doorbell rang.

I rushed downstairs to get the door and opened it to find Evie looking beyond stunning. What did I expect from a fashion designer? She hugged me, and immediately exclaimed, “Wine me!”

“Gosh, Evie. Don’t be subtle about it.”

We laughed as we made our way into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine.

“I figured we would polish off a bottle and then stick with shots for the rest of the night. Our cab arrives in thirty minutes, so let’s not be classy with our drinking and let’s get that bottle gone.”

“Yes ma’am,” I responded with a salute.

Evie smirked and proceeded to finish the glass in a few gulps. “You look hot,” she said casually while I refilled her glass. “It’s not one of
my
designs, but it’s still hot.” There was no annoyance in her tone; I knew she didn’t care whether or not I wore her designs.

“Well, I can see
you
are wearing one of your newest designs because I haven't seen this dress yet and it screams ‘Made by Evelyn’.”

Evie, or Evelyn—her full name which she used for her designs—was a knockout. Think Megan Fox. From the front, her dress seemed overly simple: a black, long-sleeved mini dress with different sized pearls and beading along the shoulders. But when she turned around, her back was bare. The material draped all the way down to her butt crack, so far that even her back dimples were visible. The edge of the open-backed dress was lined with the same pearls and beads that adorned the shoulders. It was beautiful. She really was a brilliant designer.

“I just finished it and wanted to take it out for a spin. See if it’s as hot as I want it to be. And I want it to be hot enough to get some sex. I
need
some sex. I have been in a designing black hole of nothing and I need to feel inspired. Cock usually tends to inspire me. Especially when they give me orgasms. Most people see stars when they orgasm; I see fashion. It’s a gift, really.” She shrugged her shoulders shamelessly as she tipped back the remaining contents of her glass.

Our laughter got louder as we finished the bottle of wine. After managing to squeeze in a shot of tequila, I was feeling pretty good as we hopped into the cab, and made our way to the bar. Our laughter filled the cab, earning us several narrowed-eye glares from our driver.

We jumped out and immediately skipped the small line leading up to the door. Jameson, my brother, was a bar owner nearby, which meant we never had to wait in line to get into places. When I’d called him earlier to ask him to add us to the list, he’d begrudgingly obliged, though I could sense his hesitancy. He’d had feelings for Evie for a while, but refused to admit it. Not that I could see them together, anyway. His stern personality would clash with Evie’s go-with-the-flow ways.

The bass of the music vibrated through my body, getting me more excited for the night. Squeezing my hand, Evie pulled me into a narrow hallway and through an opening into a sunken, renovated bar. The large room had an elevated DJ booth immediately to the left. Just past that was another elevated area with lounge seats and bar stools in front of a wall of windows. We began to wade through the crowded dance floor to reach the mahogany bar in front of us.

The building retained its history as a former home with the dark crown molding and exposed brick wall, but classy modern fixtures had been installed above the countertop, lending a sophisticated air to the room. Evie squeezed her way through the masses awaiting their drinks, and yelled to get the bartender's attention. I managed to scoot in close to her, just as six shots of tequila were laid out on the bar with a salt shaker and a bowl of limes. We had only just arrived, but already the large crowd created a steamy atmosphere that clung to my skin.

“We don’t have time to be hovering around the bar all night drinking, so let’s get this done fast and right,” she leaned forward and yelled in my ear.

I laughed. We had the same ritual almost every night we went out to dance: drink a lot as soon as we got there. We felt the effects of the alcohol more intensely if we drank quickly rather than throughout the night. So I dutifully licked the spot on the back of my hand from thumb to forefinger and held it out to have salt shaken on it.

Evie lifted her glass to toast. “To finding someone to have lots of hot, sweaty, rough sex with me later tonight. Oh, and also with a big dick! Can’t forget that!”

We both licked the salt off our hands and tilted the shots back, immediately sucking on the lime afterwards. We repeated the process again, sans toast, with the remaining shots. I guessed one toast to a big dick was enough for the night. On my last salt lick I looked up and made eye contact with probably the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.

He was sitting at a stool with his elbows on the bar, holding a beer bottle. He had sharp cheekbones and an aquiline nose with an angular, sharp jawline. His hair was dark and pushed back, making it hard to determine its length. The only thought that flooded my brain was how I hoped like hell I looked sexy licking my hand and not like some rabid animal bathing itself.

While still locking eyes, because I wasn’t sure I could look away, I tossed the shot back. With a little more thought to my actions, I lifted the lime to my lips and bit into it. I gave it my all and prayed to whoever would listen that I didn’t look like a fool. He was seated at the other end of the bar where it connected to the wall, so I couldn’t see his expression well, but I did manage to see his smirk at the show I put on for him, like maybe he approved. I pulled the lime out of my mouth and slowly licked my bottom lip, finishing with a bite.

I wasn’t really sure what came over me to be so bold but when his dark eyebrow lifted, I felt powerful.

I felt sexy.

I felt a small jolt of panic at what I had just done.

I quickly looked away but couldn’t push back the powerful rush being so brazen gave me. I wasn’t normally so hesitant around men, but I was definitely never so inviting. A small smile formed on my face and I turned to connect eyes with Evie who happened to have an “I saw that” look.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I saw what you just did. And Lu, I have to admit...” She took a deep breath and looked down. She shook her head and looked back up with a shit-eating grin on her face. “That shit was sexy. I mean, lesbi-honest, I nearly forgot about the big dick hottie I’m wishing for and almost began licking the lime juice off your lip myself. Hot
damn
girl! Tonight is the night! And he is a ten on the hottie scale. That hair. Those arms. Mmm-mm!!” And with that off her chest she grabbed my hand and began pulling me toward the dance floor. “Now let’s go shake our asses like a bunch of strippers and find me a man with a big dick!”

While we made our way to the dance floor, I turned for one more glance and saw the stranger still looking. He lifted his beer in a salute and before a swarm of bodies blocked my view, I saw him wink and bring the bottle to his lips. I would have given just about anything to be that bottle.

We found a space among the mass of bodies and began to dance. When Evie danced, her body flowed like it was made to move to the rhythm. She felt the beat and went with it. Everyone around struggled to look away from her. She exuded sex appeal all the time, but when she danced she radiated with confidence. When I danced, it was this odd mix between jumping up and down to the beat with my arms flailing like crazy and stripper moves. I wasn’t bad but I didn’t flow like Evie did.

We started off dancing together, just feeling the beat of the music. The crowd surrounded our shorter statures and I could feel the heat coming from other dancers’ bodies like a gust of warmth. My arms rose, searching for cooler air above the masses and my hips swayed to the sound. My ponytail offered a small relief, keeping most of my hair off my neck and creating a small breeze with its sway. A few guys came up to dance with us but none were keepers and we helped each other out maneuvering the other away to avoid the unwanted attention.

After a while, we made our way back to the bar to get some water, having hit our quota of drinks for the night. It was time to ride the buzz and stay hydrated. I took a few quick glances around looking for Mr. Sex Eyes. I didn’t want to admit to the hope filling my chest that maybe I could play some more.

But that hope sunk to my stomach when I came up empty. Trying to stay positive, I brushed it off, knowing it was a moment of fun, but already missing the powerful high flirting gave me.

After another hour of dancing and another trip to the bar, I asked Evie, “Are you ready to go soon? It’s getting late and my feet are killing me.”

“Let’s head back out one more time. I feel like this time on the dance floor will bring me the man I’m looking for.” Evie gave me a sad puppy dog look and began pulling me back to the floor.

I could feel my buzz fading, revealing the exhaustion I felt down to my bones, but I was here for Evie and her quest. So I obediently followed her back to the dance floor. About ten minutes into dancing, a ridiculously hot guy came up to dance with Evie. He whispered in her ear and she made a drinking motion to me. I gave her a thumbs up and she was off with a quick glance back, mouthing, “Fuck yeah.”

I was about to head to the bar as well to get a drink when one of my favorite dancing songs came on. I fell into a rhythm, finding my zone. I hoped I looked like a high-class stripper, but I didn’t care too much because I was feeling the music, feeling powerful, sexy. I made a sultry turn and opened my eyes, immediately finding Mr. Sex Eyes. I paused for a minute in shock until he raised an eyebrow as if he was asking,
What are you waiting for?
.

The powerful rush of sexiness heightened, adding to my excitement causing a tightness in my chest and a lightheaded feeling. I closed my eyes and began to dance. I no longer danced just for myself, I could tell. I could feel his eyes on me caressing my skin, or at least I imagined they were. Let’s be honest, he could have moved away while my eyes were closed, but I liked the illusion that I was dancing for someone. That they were watching me. Hmm, maybe I had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in me.

One song turned into two and two into three. I never looked back over for fear that he would be gone. I didn’t want to lose this feeling. My breathing came fast, not only from the dancing, but from the excitement. I could feel myself getting turned on, experiencing a rush I didn’t ever want to end.

I swayed my hips low and rose back up when a large hand softly squeezed my waist as another pushed my hair over my right shoulder.

“I almost didn’t come over because you looked like you were enjoying yourself so much, but after such a show, how could I resist?” His deep voice vibrated through me, so close I could feel his lips brush against my ear.

I wasn’t going to look, but a part of me had to check if it was him and not some random man coming up to me. I slowed down a bit and turned my head, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. Hot damn, up close he was even better than expected. The darkness made it hard to confirm but I thought his eyes were blue. His lips had that same smirk as earlier.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. I just want to participate now.” He placed his other hand on my hip and pulled me back so I was right up against him. Instantly I could feel how much he enjoyed my show. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned back and subtly rubbed myself against him. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to communicate with that move, but I became unstoppable at that point. “Come on, let’s play. Dance for me, beautiful.”

And so we danced. I began to shamelessly grind on him as his fingers squeezed my hips. When I raised my arms above my head, he slid his hands up, over my waist, my ribs, and lightly brushed the sides of my breasts, continuing a path up my arms, clasping my hands and pulling them down and behind his neck. He turned his head and softly brushed his lips against the inside of my wrist. Everything he did was erotic.

I couldn’t really say if he was a good dancer because I wasn’t sure we were actually dancing. We were locked together and swaying to the beat, my body pressed against his as I caressed my ass against his pelvis. At one point, he leaned down and brushed his lips from my shoulder, up my neck, and to my ear. He didn’t kiss me, just lightly pressed his lips to my skin and dragged them up, murmuring, “Fuck me, you are killing me.” He finished it with a small nip to my earlobe, making me gasp.

He grabbed my hips and turned me around. We stood face to face and,
holy hell
, that added a whole new level of reality to the situation. My eyes immediately locked on his as he brought his forehead down to mine, all the while keeping eye contact. Then he closed his eyes and just stayed there. I didn’t know what to do so I continued staring, taking his features in.