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Hot Blooded

Disclaimer: Words are mine, the Worlds are not. Hot Blooded is sung by and is the property of Foreigner and their respective songwriters and producers. I am not making any money off of this.

Summary: Da Man is HOT in Florida one night.

WARNING – This is a definite Mature rated fic due to some of the content and implications…if you’re not old enough, quit reading now! If you still read it well…
* pulls a Pontious Pilate * I wash my hands of any responsibility and may you never get caught by your parents.

It has also been brought to my attention that I haven't been in code with the new ratings system, and I will be editing the subject bars accordingly.

Summary: Fourth in A Certain POV series, sequel to Someone’s Watching Over Me Here it is for you all, Da Main Man Zan!



~~~

Zan chuckled as he approached his destination, ignoring the stares he got as just part of the scenery, same as the flashing neon lights and dim, dark atmosphere as he hit one of Miami’s hottest party spots.

“Bet she never told Alex or her folks about this,” he smirked as he made his way further inside.

He wasn’t afraid of blending in, for this city was similar enough to his native New York, and it felt like a familiar friend. He didn’t feel judged and gawked at like in Ross-hell. All his piercings were back, the ring in the brow; chin stud, three holes in the left ear, four in the other, and his ever-present tongue ring. It was a good thing he’d followed his girl back here.

His hair wasn’t in such long spikes as a few years prior, he’d decided to let his hair grow out, and now the waves had straightened and lay in a fringe past his eyes, giving him a mysterious and shuttered appearance. He’d purposely left the stubble around his chin creating a five o clock shadow and increasing the effect of his persona.

The ladies checked him out, and Zan had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. He knew he looked good but there was only one whose attention he sought, and she wasn’t here yet. Well, at least not in the main room.

The people around him were dressed to party and Zan was no exception. A pair of baggy leather pants encased his legs, paired with his heavy boots, and a deep, unbuttoned, v-neck sleeveless shirt made of a sheer, silky material tucked into his pants showed off more than it hid. The material was black tinted so it only showed hints of the sleek body underneath, but the barbell and hoop ring in both nipples were easy to see, as were the tattoos inked on streamlined biceps.

There was a large dance floor in the center of the club, and couples of all kinds winding themselves across the floor and each other, but it was the stage that held his focus and he prowled into the mass of shifting humanity on a mission.

He timed it just right as the first strains of the new song came across, and the audience’s attention was riveted where Zan had been looking all along, when the lights dimmed and the stage lights came on.

He was highly amused at the choice of song, thinking how appropriate it was.

A sleek figure backlighted in a dim outline had her back to the main floor and as the words came on she moved into the spotlight as if she used muscles unavailable to normal folk.

Zan allowed a pleased, predatory smile to cross his lips as Liz Parker began to dance.

~~~

Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of a hundred and three
Come on baby, do you do more than dance?
I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded

You don't have to read my mind, to know what I have in mind
Honey you oughta know
Now you move so fine, let me lay it on the line
I wanna know what you're doin' after the show

Now it's up to you, we can make a secret rendezvous
Just me and you, I'll show you lovin' like you never knew

~~~

Zan’s eyes followed her progress across the stage, as she slunk, bumped, and grinded her way through the chorus, feeling himself respond to her scantily clad body as much as listening to the lyrics.

~~~

That's why, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of a hundred and three
Come on baby, do you do more than dance?
I'm hot blooded, hot blooded

~~~

Liz wasn’t unused to the stares of the men and women of the club, she’d had over three years in which to get used to it, but tonight she felt something different.

Someone’s eyes were on her and they seemed to burn a tattoo on her skin and she altered her routine enough to twist about to look over her shoulder to glance over the crowd.

Like a homing device her eyes collided with a surprisingly familiar amber gaze.

Liz’s eyes widened slightly as she was hit with a long absent warmth that snaked its way through her, starting indecently low, and spreading where no hand or caress could ever reach. She continued with her routine but every chance she could she found and sought his eyes.

~~~

If it feels alright, maybe you can stay all night
Shall I leave you my key?
But you've got to give me a sign, come on girl, some kind of sign
Tell me, are you hot mama? you sure look that way to me

~~~

That’s definitely not Max, she thought, twisting to beat, feeling the pulse and the rhythm of the song and letting it guide her motions.

In time with the melody she stripped off her outer garments, a flimsy halter of glittery, red gold flowing material that was sheer everywhere but for a strategically placed strip to keep it from being completely indecent and a sexy, barely to be called a skirt thatch of tight, black polyester looking stuff that zipped all the way down on one side and rested scandalously low.

How she knew that he wasn’t Max, since she no longer had the bond between her and the erstwhile alien king, she didn’t really know. Perhaps having spent a lifetime observing and being in his presence had given her a sort of ‘feel’ to things. This man, while certainly sharing many of the same gorgeous features, was nothing like Max.

Which was a good thing she was sure.

It was there in his eyes. That was it. The eyes were truly windows into the soul, and what Liz saw reassured herself that this wasn’t who she feared. This was the man Ava had told her so wistfully all those years ago.

This was Zan.

There was no way Max Evans would ever look at her with such raw sexuality and assurance of himself. This man knew who he was, what he was, liked who he was, and made no excuse for what he was and could do. Like Max had said of Michael so long ago, ‘Here I am, deal with it.’

That phrase seemed to fit him.

Liz’s eyes widened further when she saw him mouth the next words to her and the promise in those golden caramel eyes.

~~~

Are you old enough? will you be ready when I call you bluff?
Is my timing right? did you save your love for me tonight?

~~~

The thought of her saving herself –for he could smell her virginity - and loving him in the way her dancing suggested she could made Zan feel tight and uncomfortable against the firm leather, and he made sure all he felt, all he could promise her, was in his eyes and he used a little alien mojo to send the message to her with the next verse.

~~~

Yeah I'm hot blooded, check it and see
Feel the fever burning inside of me
Come on baby, do you do more than dance?
I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded, I'm hot

Now it's up to you, can we make a secret rendezvous?
Oh, before we do, you'll have to get away from you know who

Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of a hundred and three
Come on baby, do you do more than dance?
I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded

~~~

Does he know what he’s offering? Liz wondered at the words alien magicked into her head, now just dancing in her red bikini cut underwear and strapless bra set paired with matching stiletto heels that tied up her leg almost to her knees.

It seemed she could feel his gaze on her everywhere, and when she said everywhere, she meant everywhere.

Hell yes, that husky, all male voice assured her and she put an extra spin and hip shimmy just for him.

~~~

Hot blooded, every night

~~~

I bet, she thought, catching his gaze again and taking an appreciative look down his toned, sculpted body.

~~~

Hot blooded, you're looking so tight

~~~

Liz couldn’t tell you why she had chosen this song, or this outfit, for tonight. Usually she just let one of the other girls pick it out for her and she’d practice the routine the week before. Something just made her do it and she’d learned to go with her what her instincts told her. And so…she made her first song request and her boss was more than happy to grant it.

It didn’t matter that she had almost a year to go before she was twenty-one, as long as she didn’t lose all her clothes or give anybody a personal dance on company property or payroll, the boss looked the other way. It was hard finding a waitress who not only knew what she was doing, but could handle herself and dance, and makes it through school all at once.

~~~

Hot blooded, now you're driving me wild

~~~

Liz fought not to laugh as she could ‘hear’ his voice in her head telling her she drove him wild. There was a definite leer and sensual overtone lacing the words and she shivered, incorporating it into her dance and driving the crowd, the males in it anyway, further.

~~~

Hot blooded, I'm so hot for you, child
Hot blooded, I'm a little bit high

~~~

Not even a little, Zan laughed. He never cared for this particular part of the song, as neither was Liz a child anymore, nor was he tripping out on any drug or inhibitor. But he could understand if it were getting high off the girl being sung about.

His little addiction was currently prancing around in a lingerie set that should be outlawed only to the bedroom…where he would take delicious delight in stripping it off her golden touched skin.

~~~

Hot blooded, you're a little bit shy

~~~

Not even close, their thoughts echoed, in time with the matching smirks each one suddenly wore, Liz adding a pout and smoldering gaze that was a huge hit.

Liz looked right at him as the song came to a close, mouthing the words directly at him as she came to the finale.

~~~

Hot blooded, you're making me sing

~~~

But it was Zan who got the last laugh as he sang the words right back at her and saw her blush furiously.

~~~

Hot blooded, for your sweet sweet thing

~~~

Am I really going to do this? Liz took a bow with a flirty smile and left the stage to a raucous outcry of appreciation from the crowd. Tips would definitely be great tonight that was certain.

She was a little jittery as she toweled off backstage, that final set her last since she was now off the clock and had the rest of the night free.

She had just finished getting dressed in her street clothes, a pair of black low riding cargos and a sheer red fitted tee that came to just above her navel with a small strip of darker cloth protecting her modesty.

She stepped out of the dressing room and into a pair of masculine arms she would have known anywhere though this particular set had never touched her before.

“So…waz ya meanin’ what ya said back der or what, sweet thang?”

Liz shivered as everything came to attention when she felt his presence behind her. Somehow…she had known he would come. And not just after she had finished her set, no. She had known even before tonight on some level he would come, and she had been preparing for him.

Smiling she finally looked up at Zan –yes, it was Zan for who else could he be? – and gave a shy nod.

“Show me just how hot blooded you are?” the sweet naivety thrilled and impassioned Zan far more than any practiced seduction…and Zan’s pleased laughter rang down the hall.

“Oh, I intend to Angel, I intend to,” he winked at her, then reached a hand over to cup her jaw, lightly caressing her chin with his thumb, before he brought her mouth to meet his.

Sighing in appreciation, Liz's lips curved into a smile as the kiss knocked her off her stilleto heels.

Oh, yeah, she was definitely going to do this.