Chapter Two #3
Her hips roll against mine again, slower now, deeper, and it’s getting harder to ignore the effect it’s having on me.
The music disappears, and the room, the people around us, it all fucking fades.
All I feel is her.
We break just long enough to breathe, foreheads almost touching, and our mouths still close enough that every inhale brushes lips.
She studies me like she’s deciding whether to ruin both of us.
Then she grabs my hand and pulls me to the back of the bar.
“Come on.”
She pulls me into a small backroom off the hall and shuts behind us. The moment the lock clicks she's on me again, but this time, the kiss shifts.
Hungrier, less controlled.
She’s still kissing me when I move, my hand sliding from her hip to her lower back as I step into her space and guide her backward. Her spine hits the door with a soft thud, and the sound she makes pulls a low groan out of me before I can fucking stop it.
Her fingers fist in my shirt and she drags me flush against her like she’s been waiting for me to close the distance. There’s no air left between us. Her body lines up with mine, hips angled just right, and when she rolls forward once—slow and teasinly, fuck me I feel it everywhere.
My grip tightens on her waist, and she does it again.
Still slow, but harder this time.
Her mouth opens against mine and I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding up her side, over the curve of her ribs, then back down to her waist like I need to memorize every fucking curve on her.
I dip my head, lowering my mouth to trail kisses along her jaw, then down the side of her neck. When my teeth graze her collar bone, I feel the jump of her pulse under my lips and my cock instantly twitches.
I brace one hand beside her head on the door, caging her in without thinking, and she tilts her chin up, her lips finding mine again as she kisses me harder in response.
Her hips move again. Every brush of her against me sends heat straight through my bloodstream and right to my cock.
She tastes like cherry, beer and bad fucking decisions. But right now? Right now I couldn’t care less. She grinds herself harder against my length, and a soft desperate fucking whimper slips from her pretty little lips.
The sound alone nearly destroys me.
Fucking hell.
Her hips roll again, firmer now, and just as I’m about to break and take it to the next level, she presses her tiny palm against my chest.
Flat and steady.
I freeze immediately.
We’re both breathing hard, chests rising and falling against each other. Our mouths still inches apart.
“If I keep going,” she says, voice low but clear, “this gets complicated.”
My hand is still at her waist, not wanting to let go of her.
“I don’t mind complicated,” I tell her.
“Normally, I’d agree,” she says, breath still a little uneven even though she’s trying to mask it. “But right now, I have enough complicated in my life without adding ‘fucked random stranger in a dive bar bathroom’ to that list.”
I let out a low exhale that’s half laugh, and half frustration.
She steps back slowly, and the loss of contact hits harder than I expect.
I watch her smooth her top down, fingers brushing over the places my hands were gripping seconds ago.
She pushes her hair back off her face, resetting herself with an ease that makes it look like she wasn’t just pressed against me, hips rolling like she was trying to get fucked.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there hard as hell and very aware of just how bad she wants it.
I shift my stance, adjusting myself subtly because there’s no pretending this didn’t get to me. My pulse is still pounding.
She notices, and her eyes drop briefly, slow and shameless, then lift back to mine.
“Yeah,” she murmurs, amusement flickering across her mouth. “Definitely trouble.”
I step in close again, not touching her this time, just crowding her space enough to make the air heavy.
She studies me for another second, then holds her hand out between us.
“Phone.”
I blink once, thrown off for half a beat. “What?”
“Your phone, Draygon.”
I pull it from my pocket and place it in her palm without argument. Her fingers brush mine as she takes it, and that tiny bit of contact sends a fresh fucking jolt of arousal right to my cock. She types something in, then hands it back.
“There,” she says.
I glance down. Her name. A number.
Echo.
Before I can say anything, she grabs the front of my shirt, and kisses me.
It’s quick and hard. Just enough to reignite everything she just shut down.
Her lips press to mine, teeth catching slightly, and then she’s pulling away again before I can chase it.
I almost do. Shit it takes everything in me not to grab her and pull her back.
She turns to the door, unlocks it, and pauses just long enough to look over her shoulder, eyes sharp and mischievous.
“You better text me, Draygon.”
Then she’s gone. The door swings shut behind her, and I’m left standing in that dim bathroom, pulse still racing, jaw tight, and my body still very much reacting to the way she felt pressed up against me.
Hard.
Frustrated.
And grinning like a fucking idiot.