You’re as beautiful as I remember, maybe somehow even more so, and I resist the urge to bite my bottom lip as you lean provocatively over the bar. Instead, I cock a brow and smirk, familiar with your game. And when you take my hand to get me to my feet, my heart stutters and I smile down at you.
"Take my chances, huh?" I echo, and my eyes follow you as you close the space between us. Your lips barely brush my ear as you speak again and I shiver, my eyes fluttering closed, and an involuntary moan escapes me that I immediately hate myself for. Fuck…
Drawing away, there’s a part of me that wants to run. Why? So she doesn’t hurt your feelings again? Get the hell over it. It was a good fuck. You should be happy.
I grip your hand tight, making eye contact with you, before turning and dragging you out of the bar. “You’re coming home with me,” I say. And as we step from the doors onto the sidewalk, the hot night air hits me hard. But I’m on a mission now, one with slightly different outcome goals than before, so I ignore the discomfort.
"Taxi!" I call, and raise my free hand. "I’ll get us back for our cars tomorrow, okay? But right now, I need you."