Oh. All that tongue. No wonder. After kissing a girl on the lips.
He’s looking at me like he’s never met me before.
“So, you’re not stalking me?” I inquire.
He signals the bartender and gestures to my glass as well as his.
“I just got a fresh one, I don’t need another,” I tell him.
“I might need both of ours,” he says huskily.
I giggle.
His eyes sparkle.
“So, you’re not stalking me?” he parrots.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“You’re not coming back to crush my ego some more?” he asks.
“As if. I’m sure your ego held up just fine after my tongue-lashing.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “You can lash me with that little tongue any time you want, Tina.”
I pout. He tilts his head with inquiry in his eyes.
I liked it when he called me Christina better.
I shake it off and sip my drink. What’s wrong with me? I’m drunk, that’s what.
“Sorry about the peppers, Tina. It was a jerk move. I’m a work-in-progress.”
I say nothing for a minute and then wave my hand and change the subject.
“So, you come here often?” I ask.
“Occasionally. I show up and my presence ensures the staff do a good job.”
“Hm.”
“You? I’m guessing no.”
“Naw. Not really a bar girl type.”
“You’re more of a saving lives, making food for the unfortunate type?”
I smile. “I’m sure a bar girl is more your type.”
“It was,” he says thoughtfully.
The bartender deposits two drinks behind him. One for Hunter. One for me. I take a giant sip of the drink in my hand so I can get to that.
I’m definitely buzzed. More than that. I’m sloshed.
“It was,” he repeats, “but then I nearly died, and it forced me to take a closer look at my life. At the decisions I typically make. At the people I spent time with. I got lucky. I’m tryin’ to deserve that extra chance I got.”
The look in his eyes appears genuine.
I say nothing.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He continues. “And when I thought about that, I thought about a girl with kind blue eyes, a soothing voice. A girl that made me feel some kinda way.”
“It’s hard to not feel some kinda way when you’re afraid to die,” I say. “Sadly, though, a whole bunch of people heard that voice and saw those eyes this week and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference.” I down my drink.
His eyes flare with concern. “Bad week?”
“The worst,” I say.
I’m feeling a bit of sourness. I’m feeling the heaviness settling back into my chest like it’s back home in its rightful place.
But then my favorite song comes on and I hear April make a ‘Woo’ sound from behind me on the dancefloor. I look over my shoulder and spot her getting her groove on with a hot man with chocolate skin and humungous muscles.
And I’m tired of wallowing.
“I was having fun. Why do I do that to myself? Let myself feel all heavy and sad?” I ask Hunter.
He’s looking at me with depth in his eyes that kind of unnerves me.
“Because you care.”
“I just wanna turn it off. Feel good. You know? For a little while. I’ve been feeling like shit for… forever.”
“And you deserve to feel good,” he says. “Lots of people live a life of hedonism without ever doin’ much good. Someone like you who spends most of her life trying to do good deserves to feel good too.”
I bite my lip. He’s pretty fucking sexy.
And he’s right. I do deserve to feel good once in a while.
Fuck it. I’m going to let myself feel good for a change.
“You wanna dance?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. I want you to take me home with you. I wanna feel good, Hunter.”
I see his eyebrows fly up toward his hairline while I down my drink.
I put my empty glass down and lift the glass from beside him and slowly lick the sugar all the way around the rim while our gazes are locked, and then, somehow I find myself in his arms and my tongue is in his mouth.
His hands are then tangled in my hair and I feel the ridge of his erection against my belly.
Hunter
I down my drink, order one more and down that so I can catch up a little. I’m not as drunk as her, but I’m drunk on her. Thankfully, I have just enough sense to get her back to my apartment before I’m fucking her against the bar in public because she’s a hot little toddy and not only did she just stick her tongue in my mouth, but I felt the heat of her pussy straight through that slinky little dress.
There’s a voice in my head telling me that Christina Rose is just drunk and taking her home is taking advantage. She thinks I’m a piece of shit and if I do this, she’s going to have confirmation of her thoughts. The fact is that she had a bad day and just wants to ride my cock where I want to explore something real with her.
That voice in my head telling me to take a step back, to take this slow is new and not nearly as loud as the OG Hunter Collins voice that says … Man, you’ve been fantasizing about this girl for over two months and she’s right here, wanting you.
I fantasized about her first in her paramedic uniform with no makeup on her face and those pretty blue eyes that are filled with care.
Then I fantasized about her in her thick eyeglasses and paint-stained hoodie with the scowl on her face. I even fantasized about her in that hairnet.
And now, seeing her with red lipstick on those full bee-stung lips, that cleavage, those mile-long legs with lust in her eyes?
The three fantasies amount to a trifecta of perfection, and in case she hates me again tomorrow, I’m gonna take her home and give her the night of her life.
We’re in a cab ten minutes later and she’s on my lap, straddling me, giving me a view of silky blue panties while our lips are locked. Her hands are shoved up the back of my shirt and she’s scoring my back with her nails.
I’ve gotten the thumbs up from her roommate who I know delivered Christina a double after seeing me to make sure that this went the way it’s gonna go.
Three minutes later, she’s whimpering into my throat after grinding on my cock so hard she’s made herself come. And I’m ready to fuck her in the back seat of this taxi.
This is not where you first fuck the girl who’ll be mother to your children, even if she’s currently almost begging for it with lust in those sexy eyes.
Luckily, the driver stops at the curb while I’ve got a sliver of self-control left and I see his eyes in the rearview. He’s turned on, too. I slip him the fare with a twenty-dollar tip and he gruffly says, “I’d say have a good night, but it’s pretty obvious that’s what you’re havin’.”
“You too, man. Thanks.” I pull the handle and get her out the door carefully.
She’s giggling.
“Ope! My shoe.” She’s standing on one foot.
I reach into the cab and fetch her right shoe for her and slip it on her foot. She pulls a lock of hair from her mouth and smiles.