Seduction is defined as the act of enticing of beguiling of someone into a desired state or position.

To be more forward, it's the act in which you convince someone to have sex with you.

But you can't be forthright when it comes to seducing someone. There is nothing more rude and tasteless than someone who makes their carnal appetites known up front. After all, if you tell someone upfront that you intend to lead them astray, your chances of success are greatly diminished. No, seduction is a care and a delicate process, especially if the seducer and the one being seduced are not previously acquainted. The seducer must assure safety despite the dangers involved in such amorous behavior, and the one being seduced must give themselves permission to be seduced, and in the most delicious of cases, allow the seducer to believe that they are in the lead when really, they are anything but.

In the end, there is sexual emancipation – the freedom to partake and enjoy in the sweetest of earthly delights.

… …

The tale begins in a place called "Lucky Lounge" – the chosen weekend destination for fellow undergrad students looking for a rowdy good time.

He, however, is feeling anything but lucky.

The seducer does not want to be here – but his friend insisted on bringing him along. Apparently, he needs it. All work and no play will make him a dull boy – a night like this will bring him back to life. Schoolwork, excellent marks, and honors degrees aren't everything. He needs to let loose for a while.

The seducer has already decided that he will not be letting loose here – hell no, definitely not here.

What is it about a club that gives women carte blanche to dress up like porn stars? He's seen some of these girls on-campus rushing off to in chunky sweaters, pajama pants, and Uggs. Now, they've transformed themselves using too-tight spandex, even tighter corsets, way-too-high heels, and bras that are better left underneath something, anything. And don't get him started on the white tank tops – thank god the water hoses remain hidden for now. He realizes that he's one of the few males here that will complain about their clothing choices, however.

I just think there better things to arouse me with other than skimpy clothes purchased as your neighborhood hussy mart…

Goodies that tempt you from the cookie jar are far more enticing than goodies that you can pick up and eat over and over again.

His friend tells him all the women are beautiful and that there's a reason this is called "Lucky Lounge". The seducer rolls his eyes when his friend comments on how he feels particularly lucky, due to the affections of a copper-haired maiden with vibrant green eyes, perfect red lips, and a cherry-patterned wiggle dress two sizes too small.

This has to be a nightmare. It has to be.

The seducer gives his friend his blessing and insists that he further seek the copper-haired maiden's affection. There is a method to his madness – if they end up hitting it off, they'll make a mad dash for his place or hers – preferably hers, since he's not only his friend, but his roommate as well – and then he can leave. If he tries to leave anytime beforehand, his friend will strongly insist that he stick around and find somebody, anybody, to hook up with. Seriously. His dear friend can be in the darkest of corners doing God-knows-what, yet he'll always appear the exact moment of possible departure, as though he planted a hidden camera on him before they left.

The seducer scours his clothing for hidden surveillance devices. None are found. Maybe.

A wayward glance and a sensual beat lead him to her. She sits at the bar with a smoky eye and unfilled glass. She stands out in her little black dress for all the right reasons – classy with a hint of sex appeal. When his eyes follow the lines of her v-neck, he is overcome with heat. She's a woman with curves – and they look so good on her. She flicks back a lock of her wavy, black hair, and her eyes – are those amber or hazel? – twinkle with mischievous intentions under the club lights. The bartender looks intently at her, but it's clear that while she's laughing and batting her eyelashes, she's looking right past him.

One look, and he's already hooked.

She senses him. She looks over to him, curious as to who has taken interest. Insecurity surges through him. Does he look okay? Did he choose the right outfit? It's just a white dress shirt and black slacks, yet in her eyes, he fears it's not enough. Wait, is she even into guys like him? She's caramel-colored and delicious, and he's so dark eyed and golden-skinned. Maybe she's looking for a mature kind of a man, just as he'd been looking for a woman dressed in something that wasn't two sizes too small…

She stares at him a moment, and slowly, slowly, the grin appears. She flicks her hair once again, and narrows her eyes into a "come closer" stare.

Oh my God… The words come out in a long, breathless hiss.

And just like that, she turns her attentions back to the bartender, giving more attention to him than she did before.

Tease.

But that's the point, isn't it?

This beautiful stranger knows he likes her, and now that she knows, she must play hard to get. This is the chase – he's the hunter, and she is the hunted. She knows he's interested, but she won't be captured easily. All the other girls probably would – but not her.

He's in the mood for hunting.

He finds his footing, and makes his way to her. His chest protrudes a little further than usual. He smiles, as though he already has her. Deep inside, he's scared shitless. What the hell is he doing? Is he settling himself for rejection and humiliation? Did even read her stare correctly?

Danger is a risky business…

In any case, he was about to find out.

… …

For the one to be seduced, this night is turning out better than she expected.

Attracting attention is never a difficult thing to do. With the right look, even a wallflower can attract persistent weeds. It's attracting the right kind of attention that's difficult.

He is definitely giving her the right kind of attention.

It's a fight to keep her delight in check. Yes, she came here to be tempted and to be carried away, but she didn't want that to happen with just any person. That's easy – that's already been established. No, the person who would dare to claim her would have a fight on his hands. He'd have to be willing to go through the arduous process of "climbing the apple tree to pick the delicious apple" – at least, that's what her mother called it.

If he were as interested as his eyes claimed to be, then he'd take up the challenge easily.

Play this cool. Nobody likes a girl who's easy.

When he slides into the spot next to her, she pretends to be enamored with the bartender. The truth is, he's a douchebag who just wants to get up her skirt. Not a chance.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She wills herself to keep still, though his voice makes her excited. It's as good as he looks.

She doesn't response with words. She just gives him a sideways glance before returning her attentions to the bartender. Yeah, see if I care.

But she totally does.

She never looks at him. She keeps her eyes on the bartender, that big, disgusting behemoth of man and bursts into giggles every now and again. The truth is, she can't hear a word the man is saying. She's too focused on the man beside her, and his attentive gaze. She feels really warm. Maybe it's the lights above, maybe it's the fact that this place is packed like a sardine can with people, or maybe, just maybe, it's from his gaze. It's anything but innocent.

"It looks like your glass is empty." She still won't look at him, but she listens to every word he says. "Would you like me to refill it?"

Only now does she allow herself to look at him. And…oh my… "Isn't that the bartender's job?"

The bartender finds her dig amusing. She doesn't find the "fuck off, she's MINE" look on his face amusing at all. She does, however, find the look on her suitor's face adorable. Clearly, she's caught him off-guard. As he recovers, she takes a good look at him – oh my, he's good looking. Korean? Chinese? She isn't sure. He is very handsome – of that, she is certain.

How the hell can such a good-looking man find her fascinating? Maybe it's the outfit that gives her the boost, but she knew things would be different if…

No. Don't think about that. In games like these, there is no need for insecurity.

"Besides," she continues in a quiet, husky purr, "I'd prefer to experience my evenings slightly sober, never drunk."

She allows her eyes to linger, drinking in every drop of this handsome stranger before turning her attention to exit. As she passes by, their bodies brush against her other for one brief but thrilling moment. This is something more than attraction, but she can't name what it is. The power she feels is intoxicating.

Somehow, she knows that she and no one else will have his attention for the rest of the night.

Before she came to this place, she wasn't sure if she'd find what she was looking for.

She found it all right, in spades.

Now, let see if he is willing to give chase…

… …

The seducer commits to the role of the hunter, and the prey is getting away.

He stands in awe at the sound of clacking designer red soles and hips swaying from side-to-side, while dark, wavy hair swishes from right-to-left and left-to-right. His heart hammers against his chest. While he may be a civilized gentleman, all he wants to do is run up from behind, bop her upside the head with a club, and drag her into a dark room to do many unspeakable things.

No way. He cannot allow her to flee. Not now, when she's gone and tempted him.

First he walks and then runs after her. He doesn't bother to look for his companion, and luckily, his companion never arrives to keep him in place. It's a good thing anyway – he probably would have told him where to shove his matchmaking skills. Or bonk him upside the head with a club.

He rushes out of the door into the cool autumn night. Car breeze by, traveling to various intended destinations. A line of club hopefuls stand to the left, while homeless charmers and street performers appeal to the passerby on the right. Streetlights glow from all sides.

The mysterious woman is nowhere to be found.

Normally, he's not one for profanity, but a particular bomb of a word tears out of his mouth. He let her get away – some hunter he turned out to be.

No! I can't give up! She can't have made it too far. I have to keep looking.

He rushes to the nearest intersecting and carefully scans the area.

"Hey."

She stands within the shadows of the corner, her eyes narrow on him. His legs nearly give out. She walks in her way toward him, hands in the pockets of her coat. Her nose wrinkles in annoyance, but her eyes flicker with curiosity.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you the finer points of 'stranger danger'?" A sly smile spreads across her face. "My mother always taught me never to talk to strangers, let alone stalk them. Danger is a risky business, you know."

Her voice is deep, rich, and melodic. Her words are both a caution and a summons.

"If that's the case, then why are you talking to me?" He takes her challenge head on. "For all you know, I could be a serial killer or a rapist."

She chuckles under her breath – she doesn't believe that at all. Still, she humors him. "What can I say? I don't always listen to my mother."

The seducer's mouth goes dry when she spins around, walking away in the opposite direction. His feet follow her before the command pops into his head. He can't let her get way. He just can't. He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he can't let her get away…

"Wait!" he cries after her. "Slow down!"

"Instead of me slowing down, why don't you keep up?" Her pace is brisk. "After all, you're the one following me."

"Where are you going?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually." She's intentionally playing coy, answering his questions with other questions. Frustration grips him, yet he'll follow her all night if he has to. "I can escort you there if you want."

"That won't be necessary. My destination isn't far."

"Can I at least know your name?" He's desperate for something, anything…

"Names aren't necessary, either." She is firm. "Not for this. I feel it makes things more interesting."

This… Tension nearly strangles him. "What do you mean by that?"

"I think you know precisely what I mean." She stops abruptly and turns to him. As he struggles stop, she advances. Unlike the bartender, she looks right at him. Her eyes burn holes into his back. Jesus. "My hotel room is around that corner. If you want to back out, now is the time to do so. I won't hold it against you." Another quiet chuckle. "For all you know, I could be a rabid maneater and you may not come out of it alive. But at least I'll make it for an interesting conversation with Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates."

His eyes widen. There's no mistaking it. She's coming on to him. That was a clear invitation. Realization dawns on him. She planned this somehow. She meant to lead him astray like this. She wanted to see if he'd follow her, and of course, he did. Now, she has him right where she wants him.

This was supposed to be his seduction!

Oh well…she may have lead up this point, but now, it's his turn to take over.

He smiles a wicked smile. "I'll take my chances. I can't think of a better way to go."

She smiles back, pleased with his decision. She walks over and takes his hand to guide him to the Promised Land. He in turn grips her hand with just enough pressure to relay dominance. So even as she lures him around the corner into the doors of the clean and chic boutique hotel, he has every intention of turning the tables on her once they are behind closed doors.

The hunter has captured the prey.

… …

So, this is really happening.

The grip of fear is tight and powerful. At any moment, her beating heart will come spilling out of rib cage and fall to the floor with a wet, sickening splat.

This is really happening.

The one to be seduced had no expectations for the night. With all the other girls dressed so provocatively with intentions to seduce whoever, she thought for sure she would be ignored all night.

Now, she's anything but ignored.

Disbelief runs back and forth inside her head, even as she lures him with her amber eyes into an elevator. Even as he tries to pull her in for a kiss, and she, ever so tauntingly, pulls away, it feels like some crazy out-of-body experience.

"Now, now…I have a room for that." She playfully pushes him away while she pushes a button. "You'll just have to be patient."

It's an order to him – and to herself.

Her senses are in overload. He smells so good. He looks amazing, and he's all over her. A moment ago, she could feel his warm breath against the curve of her neck.

He clearly wants her.

And she desperately wants him. Her chest aches from all that pent up desire.

This is absolute insanity.

But insanity never felt better.

Even as they spill into her luxurious suite swath in whites and grays, she makes him wait. Even if it hurts her, even if the desire to jump him precedes everything else, she will make him wait. After all, as that old cliché goes, "good things come to those who wait".

But it won't be easy.

Once again, he moves to kiss her. She relents for just a moment and…Mmm. Desire slithers up her spine and rests on beside her ear, tempting her with promise of earthly delights. If Eve couldn't resist temptation, then she isn't apt to do much better. Still, she wills herself to wait. It will mean nothing if she there is no build-up.

She pushes him onto the bed nearby, and strides with confidence across the room. At least, that's what she tries to convey. Inside, she's so terrified, she could faint at any moment. Still, she presses forward.

I hope you willing to wait for it…I'll make it worth you while.

"If you think I brought you up here to simply fuck me, then you're wrong." She lets her coat slip off her shoulders. His eyes never leave her – fantastic. "We've got all night – so there's no rush."

She kicks off her red sole heels and saunters over to him. She leans over and rests her hands on his shoulder. Her eyes are dark with suppressed passion.

"Besides, I'm not that kind of girl." Her noir-painted fingertips draw little lines up and down the length of his body. He inhales sharply. She's torturing him, and she's enjoying every minute of it. But she's supposed to be the one who is seduced… "But you know that, don't you?"

Slowly, he nods. She smiles. -

"I like taking my time with things," she continues. Her voice caresses him like expensive silk. "It allows me to savor it all, to really take it in. Besides, I went through all that trouble to lure you here. There's no way in hell I'm letting you get away so easily."

He raises an eyebrow. "You didn't lure me here. I came of my own volition."

"Is that a fact?" Even in the face of temptation, he tries to be macho. She loves it. "I guess you didn't run after me like a madman, either."

"Ah…" He has no comeback for that one. Ha.

"I'm glad you did, though." She leans over and allows her lips to graze his earlobe. She can feel him shuddering against the fabric of her dress. Mercy. "I was hoping you'd follow me, and when I saw that you had, I got so excited."

She leans in closer, lets her body lightly touch his. A little voice inside screams a warning, begs her to reconsider her course of action. This isn't her – this isn't her at all. She's not usually like this. She's lost her mind. She's been relieved of her senses. If she continues on like this, there will be no turning back. She will never be the same again.

She pushes the voice aside. Yes, it's true. She'll never be the same again. But that's okay – that's the point.

She won't be denied this. Not now. Not ever.

"Like I said before…I will make this worth your while, stranger." Carefully, she straddles him. She can feel a familiar protrusion in between her legs. Oh my… "You went through all that trouble to go after me. Now, let me reward you."

"And how do you intend to do that?" he murmurs on the edge of lunacy.

She's very glad she he's asked her that. Her lips curl into a wicked smile. Their lips are mere millimeters apart. "By allowing you to do the very thing you wanted to do all night…"

"And that is?" Not even millimeters.

When she sighs, she sighs with passion. There is no going back.

"To seduce me…"

… …

Seduce me…

There it is. The words he's been waiting for all night.

Seduce me.

The thing is, he hadn't realized that he'd been waiting for those words. Under the thumb of this beautiful stranger, he'd come to realize that he had no idea what he was doing. She, on the other hand, played him like a fiddle. She'd been teasing and tempting him all night. In the elevator, she wouldn't allow him to touch her. Even after they'd made it into her room, she still wouldn't allow him his way. She teased and she tempted. She'd touched him ever so slightly and not even in the most erotic of ways. She chose her touches carefully, all so that it would come to this.

He trembles violently and does everything he can to stop himself from ripping off that dress and plowing her right now.

Besides, he'd lose her if he tried that. She'd made her conditions known up front - if you think I brought you up here to simply fuck me, then you're wrong. She'd been sizing him up all this time, and only when she deemed him worthy did she give him those two little words he'd been longing for all night.

Seduce me.

She was right. He followed her because he sensed that she wasn't like the other girls, grinding up against each other, making him seriously question their sexuality. She was…different, with her smoky eyes, wavy hair, and black-painted fingernails. She hadn't needed tight clothes or erotic dance moves to get his attention. All she needed was confidence, and nothing is more sexier than confidence.

Nothing.

And now that he'd been given permission to relieve himself of this madness, the only thing he wanted to do was savor every moment he could have with her, from dusk until dawn.

She's absolutely right. We've got no rush.

But now is the time to fulfill her request.

In one fluid motion, he turns her around, his body on top of hers. She gasps and tenses up, surprised by his forwardness. He pins her wrists to the bed, to relay the acceptance of her surrender. There is fear in her eyes, but only for a moment. Then there is acceptance – amorous acceptance. Her body relaxes – she's ready for everyone one of his intentions.

I want you so bad, but I don't want to hurt you…

When his lips touch hers, he nearly breaks his vow of patience. Her lips are so sweet and rich with the faint taste of mocha, and her kiss is warm and sensual. Jesus. He's not at all a religious man, yet the refrain seems appropriate. The kiss deepens, and he's on the edge of madness all over again. His hands won't keep to themselves. She sighs in approval. She presses closer to him. The scent of soft, floral perfume floats into his nostrils.

He promised to be patient, but he is anything but.

He panics. He doesn't want to hurt her. He really doesn't want to hurt her…

"What is it?" She senses his apprehension. She reaches up, and allows her fingers to trace his line of his jaw. "Is something wrong?"

He struggles to find his voice. If this keeps up, I'm going to end up doing what you told me NOT to do…

Her eyes soften, and she offers him an assuring smile. "Don't be afraid." One small kiss and there's a surge of heat. "Kiss me…" Another kiss, and he's on fire. "Touch me…"

One more kiss, and he's hands are all over her again. "I know you won't hurt me…"

Damn it all to hell. She's just so damn beautiful, quivering beneath him. He assures himself that he will not harm her, but now, he's hungry for skin-on-skin.

You're mine now. He is surprised his need to claim her. He doesn't even know her name. And yet, he doesn't want any other man to have the chance to learn it, either.

Her hands are making quick of the buttons of his shirt. His fingers lead him to the zipper of her dress. She tosses away his shirt. He slides off her dress – it falls to the floor with a soft rustle. He won't stop and he senses she won't either, until nothing but warm, bare flesh remains.

The clothes are but a memory and…Jesus, Jesus…

His hands explore every inch of her, burning the feeling of her silken skin into his memory. It's one thing to appear beautiful. To feel beautiful was another matter entirely. She melts into every curve, every line, and every zig-zag from here to here. Her eyes flutter close, and he watches her take it all in.

You beautiful, beautiful creature…

She opens herself up to him, keeps her end of the bargain. For one split second, he wonders if he truly is the seducer. Everything about her is irresistible, and he had no chance against it. All it took was one look from those dark eyes, and he was at her beck and call.

But now, as she writhes beneath him, looking for him, all of him, he reminds himself that he's the one in control right now, and her final release depends on him.

He is the seducer once more and he won't let her go so easily.

Maybe a few more touches…and then something wet and warm…

… …

They use every last grain of self-control to keep themselves locked in this intimate embrace for as long as possible.

They savor each touch, each kiss, and each thrust as though it were the last, like the world is destined to end at sunrise. Even if they are strangers, they move as though they were lovers, already familiar, and eternally bonded.

When the release comes, it's powerful and triumphs over everything. And then comes the quiet stillness. They lie together, sated, satisfied, and holding each other tightly, as nothing else matters.

Sleep comes easy. Slumber is peaceful. The world is all but faded away.

… …

The seducer is still wrapped in the blanket of warm slumber.

But somehow, somewhere, Henry can hear a soft, dreamy voice speaking to him.

I don't want to leave you like this. As much as I want to stay, I can't. I wasn't expecting this. I didn't expect to find someone like you. This was all so sudden. But I'm so glad that I did, and I don't regret this one bit.

He can feel a light caress down his back, and then, a light kiss on his forehead.

Thank you for coming after me. This was really nice. I'm glad I've had this night with you. There is a light rub against his cheek. We'll never see each other again. I'm afraid it's because I'm not real…I'm just a shadow, a fantasy. But I'll always remember you, and I hope you never forget me.

Another kiss against his cheek. And then, a drop against his nose…like a warm teardrop…

Goodbye.

His eyes snap open as he awakens from the dream. The sunlight stings his eyes. The silk blanket slips off his nude body when he rolls over. He extends his arms, hoping to find her warm, soft body. Emptiness greets him.

He blinks his eyes, and his sight focuses. He's alone in this hotel room. He sits up and looks all around. Not a trace of the beautiful stranger remains.

Wait…there is one trace, one small trace. She left behind her scent – that sensuous, floral scent.

Henry inhales deeply. Memories of her warm body flood into his mind. Last night's activities play out in vivid detail, from the meeting of eyes at the bar to that absolute release that had them clinging to each other, trembling from the intensity of their desires.

Had it been a dream? No, it can't have been. Her scent – and much more – remained all over him. One thing he is certain of – she's long gone. She had plenty of time to get away, and he had no chance of catching her this time.

He doesn't even know her name.

Names aren't necessary, either. It makes things more interesting.

A soft voice floats into his mind. She spoke to him…she spoke to him before she left. He thought he was dreaming, but no, it was she. Her voice was small and fragile, a far cry from the confident, husky purr she used on him before. She said she was sorry, and that she didn't regret what happened. She would remember him, and hoped he would remember her.

How the hell do you forget a woman like that?

She said she wasn't real, but last night said otherwise. She was real and she felt real. Everything that happened last night was real.

We'll never see each other again.

Henry didn't know her name, all he had was her scent, but he intended to prove her wrong.

He may have given in to her charms, but he would not give in to defeat.

… …

"Adelina? Are you in here?"

Julie Pierce peeks tentatively into her roommate's bedroom. A familiar body sits on the bed, dressed in a pair of men's pajamas two sizes too big.

"Ah, so you are in here!" Julie slides on in, making her away around the bed. The grin on her face would make the Cheshire Cat envious. "You better have a real good reason for breaking your curfew young lady…"

Julie gasps when she catches sight of her roommate's tear-stained cheeks. Hair that was once wavy and sexy is now pulled back in a matronly ponytail. The smoky eye and mocha lip were washed away with makeup remover. The amber eyes remain, but are dark with sorrow. Confidence no longer lives here. It remains in the hotel room…with him…

"Adelina?" Julie rushes to her friend's side. "What's the matter? What happened?" She slides an arm around her waist. "Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?"

Adelina shakes her head. "No. No one hurt me last night."

"Then, why are you crying?" Julie wipes away some of her roommate's tears. "Did everything go okay?"

She nods. "Oh yes…it went fine." When her friend turns to her with a smile, Julie is eyes her with confusion. "It was better than fine. It was amazing. The dress, the hair, the make-up – it all worked perfectly." Her eyes flutter close. "I don't think I have to tell you why I came in late last night."

Julie's eyes widen in shock. "Oh my God…did you…"

"Yes…I did. I met someone at the lounge last night – a very handsome stranger. And we…he and I…it all happened so fast…" Adelina wraps her around her chest. "I didn't think it would happen, but it did. You told me it would." She shudders violently, and the tears really start rolling. "And it was wonderful, it was crazy, and it was just…wow. And it'll never happen again…"

"Oh, Del." Julie wraps her up in a big hug. "Why do you say that?"

Adelina answers quietly. "He doesn't even know my name, let alone the real me." She wipes a few tears away from her eyes. "I don't understand. What happened was what I wanted. So why do I feel like he should have ignored me like everyone else?"

The End…For Now…

Author's Note: I'm beginning to think that I prefer writing short stories/one-shots instead of novels. I guess I'm not a big fan of delayed gratification. This is the first of four, maybe five one-shot stories based around these two characters – maybe. I'm not a big fan of holding stories for review ransoms, but if I get enough reviews, I will post the next story in this series, which may or may not be so explicit.

I should also state that this series is named after the song "Taken By A Stranger" by Lena, and was Germany's entry for the Eurovision Song Contest in 2011 – it belongs to her and whoever wrote it. It's where the line "Danger is a risky business" comes from. All the other one-shots will be named after a song or a musical piece, as it is music that helps to inspire me when I write stories (and so does a certain person for this series, who shall remain nameless). I hope you like it.

Please read and review! – M.N.