Private Finished I'm Bad Behavior But I do it in the Best Way

Yoka Sake did not think of herself as dressed to kill.

Dressed to kill implied that she was going out with the intention to cut someone's heart out and eat it. Which, in her experience, was an entirely different kind of outfit. That was usually something black so the blood stains wouldn't show up and tight-fitting so they couldn't grip onto the clothing to use as an advantage.

Yoka was wearing something loose and red.

It was a modest dress that plunged in the back rather than the front, creating a lovely drape that exposed her back despite the winter cold. She was wearing a shawl over her shoulders and heels, although, really the heels were just an illusion. Yoka was actually wearing a comfortable pair of matching flats, but no one needed to know that.

She strode into the bar, slid onto the first available stool, and gave a wink to the gentleman sitting next to me.

"Buy me a drink?" she asked him. "Whatever you're drinking."

Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders like an ink spill. Her nails and lips were the same shade of deadly scarlet.

She looked everywhere but at the bartender.

She'd let him notice her first.


@Fletcher

"I came for a drink," Yoka said. She didn't lift her head all the way to look at him, instead gazing up from behind thick, dark lashes.

She sipped the shirley temple, and then slid it back to him, coaster and all.

"And something with a little bit more kick then that. You have some cherry vodka? Put a dash in there, would you?" she asked.

She knew his rules as well as the regulars but Yoka wasn't a regular. She was not the sort to swear that she'd never step foot in here again, but Yoka liked the idea of distance between them. The street separated their buildings and now the bar separated Enoch from her.

She licked her lips.

"I need something strong tonight, and gin just won't do it for me," she said.

Yoka sighed loudly.

"This wasn't really what I asked for," Yoka said. "But that's what a girl gets from a man when she asks for something sweet....nothing but saltiness."

Still, she didn't push this drink back. It's not like Yoka never drank--she loved alcohol, after all--it's just that she was very, very particular about where and when.

Never at work.

But this wasn't work, and it wasn't exactly pleasure, either.

She licked the rim of the glass and then took a healthy drink. She didn't flinch from the burn of the alcohol, and soon, Yoka made quick work of the drink.

"I'll take another," she said. "Only this time, something sweeter please."

She winked at him.

Though Yoka rolled her eyes at the name of the drink, she took it anyway. It was cool in her hand and smelled sweet, but she was suspicious of Gin for no good reason. She didn’t think he would dupe her with something, but then again, she didn’t really think she’d ever be in a place where she would be wondering what he would do just because he was mad.

“Hmmm,” Yoka said, taking a sip.

This was much more like what she was looking for.

“This is much better,” Yoka said. “It’s a shame you’re so mad. Younger folk just can’t give good orgasms like this.”

The play on words made her laugh. She took another sip. Some of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders as Gin sent the other man away. It wasn’t quite so obvious that she was tense before hand, but rather, now her relaxation was obvious instead. She stretched, her breasts straining against her shirt for a moment, and then settled her arms back onto the counter.

“How is business?” she asked.

Polite and casual.

Even if the reasons she was here were not.

"I'm surprised you even gave one to me," Yoka quipped. "After all, I just asked for something sweet."

She was enjoying her drink, though. The took slow, even drinks every few seconds. Yoka settled onto her bar stool but she did not slouch. Her posture was impeccable as always. She was drying lines on the condensation on her glass when Gin asked her about dancing.

She laughed.

"Certainly not," Yoka said. "I save myself for special events at the club. I am not interested in working in a business outside of my own. That being said, if your business is slow, you are always welcome to come back and bartend for me."

A shadow fell over her and when Yoka looked up from her glass, Gin was right there.

And then, he kissed her.

It was the barest of kisses.

In fact, Yoka thought it was more like an experiment of a kiss than an actual kiss, but it still caught her off guard. She felt her feet get hot and a rush of warmth rise from her stomach to her bosom.

He kissed her.

What the fuck?

Yoka pressed her fingertips to her lips as though she was trying to see if they were really tingling. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him walk to the fridge, although Yoka had to admit, she enjoyed the view. He did have a nice ass.

"Why do you keep assuming I'm lying?" Yoka asked. "I came here to get a drink and see how business was going."

Yoka laughed when Gin asked how he was.

She shrugged. She could tell he was pissed, but Yoka didn't care. She didn't belong to him--she never had and she never would. There was no reason for him to be upset, although she did not blame him for his feelings.

"Absolutely," Yoka said. "But that's the problem with humans, isn't it?"

She shook her head. She could smell the gingerale even from here. The alcohol might dull her powers, but it made it easier for her to be a fox, too. Yoka was not a creature of absolutes. She was a flighty creature that sought pleasure. She thought that, sometimes, Gin might forget that.

She considered that.

"I might dance for you again," she said. She took another sip of her drink and looked at him. He was still an attractive man, although that was never simply enough to keep Yoka's interest. It was his passion that she liked--and hated.

"My business is actually doing quite well, even despite the damned strip," Yoka confessed. "I am set to have a grand opening of my newest building for Valentines day. Do you have any plans?"

She considered his rules on drinking and tossed them out the window.

Yoka considered this.

A smile danced across her lips and she made no attempt to hide it.

She could take a date for Valentines Day. It would certainly make for good press if Yoka came in with Gin on her arm. Two business owners from the Underground cutting the ribbon at a new business on the strip, all within visible distance of some of the Strip's biggest and most expensive buildings.

Yoka was sinking a lot of her revenue into this venture. She was hoping her gamble would be worth it, and having Gin there might just help her seal the deal.

"I'm hosting a grand opening and a party at the building," she said. "I could use you in a suit and tie. And please don't punch anyone."

She wasn't sure why she included that last part.

After all, she was the one who punched someone in the face.

"What's in it for you?" Yoka repeated the question as though it were incredulous. Her eyebrows lifted into perfect arcs and she covered her mouth with her hand. She wasn't smiing though, but she took a moment to test her breath on her hand.

Despite the drink, she didn't smell that much alcohol on her mouth. Yoka finished her drink and set the empty glass on the counter. After a moments deliberation, Yoka hefted herself up onto the counter and then dangled her long legs over the counter and plopped down on the other side.

"You get to be wined and dined," Yoka said. "And maybe there will be one of those dances we talked about. maybe."

She dug beneath the counter until she found a bottle of red wine.

"Does that sound agreeable?"

"Excellent," Yoka said. "It's a date then."

Was it a date? Did she even go on dates? When was the last time the great Yoka Sake made plans for anything other than a business meeting, a casual fling, a demonic summoning?

Yoka shook her head. It didn't matter.

She gave Enoch a wry smile and ignored the wine glasses.

"That sounds like you think I don't plan on finishing the bottle," she said. She lifted her finger and sunk the nail deep into the cork. When she pulled her finger out, the cork came, too.

Yoke strode across the room to where Gin was sitting. She pushed his knees apart and filled the space before him, standing tall as she looked down on him. She took a long swing from the bottle and then pressed the bottle against his lips.

A smile played across her face. The memories were like drawing a moth to a flame. Yoka could remember the day clear enough--she'd been oh so fond of those classic hairstyles and the lovely beaded dresses and the coffee houses. Yoka had considered opening a coffee house at the time, but she was worried they'd only be a temporary fad.

Had she only known.

She sighed and took another swig from the bottle. She was on Gin's lap now, her long legs dangling over his side and one arm wrapped loosely around his shoulder to steady herself.

Did he want the truth?

Yoka wasn't even sure what the truth was.

"I remember," she said, quietly. "You were one of the few barkeeps who did not reek of tobacco. You smelled sweet and musky, like grenadine and scotch and leather bar stools."

What a time that had been. A rare expression flashed across her face.The alcohol was making her affectionate. She nuzzled at his neck for old times sake and then laughed.

"Gin," she said. "You're older than I am. You know what happens after a few centuries. You get bored. You get lonely. I was tired of traveling. I wanted a vacation as much as you did. The club here was established, I was looking for ways to make money. I was looking for ways to keep myself entertained."

She shrugged.

"I found you instead."

Yoka had a question but she didn't want to bring it up. For a moment, it was the 1920's again and she and Gin were sitting in his bar.

But it wasn't.

It was 2016.

She said, "What happens if you just....stop collecting souls?"