New Asya SS: Girl you are my addiction Thread 2 link given - Page 33

On Friday night Asad was sat in the VIP area drinking a strong scotch and looking over the club. From his vantage point he saw everything and everyone. He knew a select group of girls were seated in line with the dance floor so any man who wanted some action would see them instantly. A group of men were being watched with caution as they looked dangerous to him. He'd dealt with a lot of men carrying roofies for the girls. No woman was going home or being raped by a guy she didn't want.

He had standards.

Ayaan threw himself down into the chair beside him. "I'm bored."

"Go and find yourself some entertainment. I've got stuff to do."

"You're waiting for that girl."

Asad glanced toward the door as another group entered the club. They were scantily clad women looking for action. He'd gotten the file on Zoya farooqui within twenty-four hours of asking for it. The reward he'd paid was over ten grand, but it was well worth the money. Every little detail, even her medical history, was down on paper for him to read. Tuesday he spent all day at his apartment reading through her file. He knew about the drunk driver who was serving time for killing her parents and about the foster parents, also dead, whom she'd lived with after the accident. She'd graduated from school at eighteen and was working within the month of their deaths. Her grades were good but not brilliant. She didn't even apply for college.

She'd changed jobs five times before getting the job at Dreams. Her employers adored her. Zoya was a hard worker, and she didn't have any serious medical problems. She'd not been in the car when her parents were killed.

What he did know was the fact she wasn't on any birth control pills. There was nothing exciting about her and she didn't pose a threat to anyone, yet he couldn't get her out of his head. She was there all the time.

"This is dangerous for us, your obsession."

"I've never had an obsession, Ayaan. Stop worrying about it."

"It's a woman, Asad. F**k her already and move on. I know I will." Ayaan stopped a waitress to order a beer.

"If you're here to ruin my mood then please leave." He sipped his drink and then stood. "I'm going to take a leak. Try not to scare anyone away."

He walked toward the private bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Maybe he was losing his mind. There was nothing special about Zoya farooqui. The attraction was inside him, not her. Something told him she was different from all other women.

Women are wh***s, and you'll do well to remember that.

His fighting mentor would scream that at them whenever a groupie was near them. Women were a bunch of distractions men had to deal with. They were only good for one thing and that was being a place to stick their dick.

"You're thirty-five years old. Get a grip man."

She was twenty-three years old. Zoya was twelve years his junior and way too innocent for this lifestyle. He made deals with crooks, criminals, drug dealers, and wh***s while Zoya didn't do anything beside work.

Running a hand down his face, he exited the bathroom and went back to sit in his chair.

"Are you done now?" Ayaan asked.

Shaking his glass for a refill, Asad ignored his friend. Keeping his eye on the door, he waited for Zoya to enter.

For the next thirty minutes she didn't turn up. He had her address and would go and hassle her there if it wasn't for the risk of the cops getting involved. Plenty of the police force was on his payroll, but he wasn't going to let them know of his interest in Zoya .

"I guess she's not turning up, boss." Ayaan stood. "I'm going to test out the goods next door."

He watched Ayaan walk away then focused his attention on the club. Men and women were grinding together on the dance floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of black hair girl. Standing up, he stepped closer to the rail, and there she was, sitting at the bar. She must have arrived when he went to the bathroom. Buttoning up his shirt, he saw a man was trying to talk to her.

Asad didn't like anyone touching what was his. He paused at the sudden thought. During all of his time with his women, he'd never once been interested in who else they f***ed. He used a condom and forced them to get checked at the hospital.

Walking down the steps he kept his gaze on the man.

When he was a foot away from her, he was able to hear them.

"No, really, I don't want to dance. I'm here to meet someone," Zoya said. She wore a black dress, one he was sure she wore to a funeral rather than out at a club.

"Baby, I don't see anyone waiting for you. Come on, I can take you for a spin on the dance floor." He reached out to touch her.

Seeing the other man's hand on her body filled Asad with rage. No one got to touch her but him.

Stepping up close, he grabbed the man's hand and twisted it. He didn't give a damn if he broke the guy's wrist. Men needed to learn not to touch what was his.

"Asad," Zoya said, squeaking his name.

"I suggest you find a woman of your own and stay away from mine. This is my club, my woman."

"You're Asad?" the man asked.

"Yes."

The fear was instant in the other man's eyes. Asad didn't care.

"I'm gone."

"Good." He waited for the other guy to go before turning back to her.

"You didn't need to do that," she said.

"Did you want him touching you? Forgive me. I didn't think you were the kind of woman to want anyone touching her." He took a seat as she gasped.

"That was unfair and uncalled for. I'm only here because you asked me to be here." She stood up. "If all you want to do is insult me then you can do that when I'm working." She spun away.

He caught her hand and tugged her back. She fell against him, and he caught her, picking her up and placing her on her seat. "I'm not here to insult you. The bas***d pissed me off thinking he could touch you."

"I refused to dance with him. I was about to pull away from him when you arrived." She clasped her hands together and averted her gaze.

"Look at me."

Her blue eyes glanced back at him.

For several seconds neither of them spoke. She was beautiful and pure. Was that the draw? In all of his years he'd never been with a woman who was pure. Was she a virgin?

None of those questions would be answered tonight. He doubted she'd even allow him to kiss her.

"I'm here. What do you want?" she asked.

What was going through that head of hers?

"I'll buy you a drink." He signaled for the waiter.

"I don't drink."

"We serve sodas here as well." He took hold of her hand and pulled her close. The club was getting busy, and he struggled to hear her. "Come on. Let's go to the VIP section." Without waiting for her response, he led her toward Barry. The guard didn't say a word as he took her past the man to the section he made sure clients paid more than her salary to get into.

She took a seat next to him, and he ordered her a soda.

"My friends are down there."

"We can see them from here. They're perfectly safe."

He noticed her hands were shaking, and she locked them together placing them in her lap.

"Why are you scared?"

She turned to look at him. "I don't know why I'm here. You come into the store for a bracelet for a woman and now you're giving me ultimatums."

"I was hoping you'd be wanting to get to know me." He leaned back in his chair to stare at her. She'd not done anything with her hair, and it simply fell around her in waves. The length was beautiful, and he imagined it was silky to the touch.

The black dress she wore did nothing for her figure. The curves he felt moments ago were hidden behind unflattering fabric. The dress fell to her calves covering her legs from view. At least the neckline showed off her cleavage showing him the full size of her tits. He was a tits and ass man. There was nothing he liked more than spanking a woman's ass and sucking on her nipples as he f***ed her to completion.



"Why?" she asked.

"Don't you want to get to know me?"

She stopped and frowned. "I've never given it much thought."

"You've never gotten to know any man, have you?"

Her cheeks heated, and he knew his answer. The woman before him was a virgin. There was no other way she'd be blushing at a simple question. He liked it even though he was shocked.

"I don't know why I'm here with you. You could have any woman you want, and yet you're here, with me."

"I want you, Zoya . I'm a man used to getting what I want."

"That man earlier, the moment he mentioned your name I saw the fear in his eyes. Who are you?" she asked.

He jerked at her response. She watched and read people. Staring into her eyes, he saw the curiosity lurking there. She didn't want to get to know him yet she was intrigued by him, just like he was intrigued by her.

"Let's just say I'm not the type of man who takes crap from others."

"You're being vague on purpose."

"Sometimes, you should just accept the answer you're given," he said.

"I don't trust you," she said.

He smiled. "A lot of women don't trust their own husbands and yet they married them."

She stopped, biting her lip. "This isn't a good idea." She made to stand up, but he stopped her, placing a hand on her leg. He'd never begged a woman to stay and keep him company.

"Don't go."

"This is a waste of time. You don't know me, and I don't know you." She was itching to find any excuse to leave, and he needed to stop her.

****

"Are you so afraid to live that you'd rather push me into one box so that you can die a virgin and righteous?"

His question caught her off guard. Zoya stared into his eyes and knew he was going to win whatever they had going on.

She didn't trust him, not by a long shot. There was something in the way the other man reacted that told her there was more to Asad than he was letting on.

"You shouldn't say things like that."

"What? You're a virgin. I'm not saying anything wrong. You refuse to take a chance in life and would rather hide from everyone. I bet you even own a cat."

His assumptions about her were right on the mark.

Glaring at him, she felt her anger spike. "Have you ever considered the fact some men are not worth the time they demand? They're cruel and mean and try to change the women they want to be with."

"Just like women do with men."

She'd not dated men as the disappointment she saw in their eyes hurt her. Zoya was under no illusions about the way she looked. Women were always hunting for the perfect body while she was happy with her size sixteen curves. There were few pleasures in this world, and she still loved eating. Her mother and her foster mother had been fantastic cooks, and she'd never been one to turn down something amazing. She'd taken after their skill into the kitchen herself, and she loved to cook.

ignor any mistakes plz no proof reading😳