The Piano Man was everything you wanted and more. He was classically handsome, extraordinarily talented, and oozed sex appeal - the silent type. Little did you know just how perfect he was for you and does he have a long, miserably arousing night planned ahead for you.
A/N: I know this took me a month to write but I really, really hope you guys like it. Please feel free to comment if it sucks. I worked really hard on it to improve my writing, so I hope you like it! xo
It wasn’t everyday that you felt like you could easily be hypnotized by music; or anything for that matter. Although, it also wasn’t everyday that you felt like you could be so mesmerized by another human being. They called him the Piano Man; no other name except for what he was known for.
Every Friday night was the same. He would show up, nine o’clock on the dot, sit on the black stool and begin to play. A word would never come from his mouth, just that look. It sends chills down your spine. You were the waitress he chose to bring him his hourly cocktail; gin and tonic, three rocks and a cucumber. No one knew why he chose you but no one ever questioned him.
As his tune began, you sauntered over in your knee-length black dress that hugged your every curve. Balancing the tray through the crowd of tables and merlot buzzed customers. As crowded as the room was, you felt as if he was the only one in the room. His alluring melody drew you to him like a charmer conjuring a snake from its basket. It was haunting yet so arousing.
When you reached his side, you set the glass on top of the piano with a coaster. Sneaking a good look at him because, honestly, he was absolutely stunning. His tall frame displayed handsomely through his black pants, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone to tease you with the sight of his chest. His bleach blonde hair parted perfectly in the most seductive fashion and his perfectly almond shaped coffee brown eyes that told a story with every glance. Without looking at you, with those sinful eyes, he smiled at the corner of his mouth; a silent thank you. This was new.
He never acknowledged your presence. It made you skip a beat in your stride as you made your way back to the bar. As you walked away, you could have sworn you heard subtle laughter under his breath; turning your cheeks crimson red and your heat twitch in response. How is that you could be so wet by a man that has never even touched you?
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