Chapter Four #2
Again, I don’t know what it is about him that makes me hop up on the bar, swing my legs over to his side, and begin telling him about the image in my head .
“Well, there has to be red.”
“favorite color?” he asks, twisting in his seat to face where I’m sitting next to his beer on the bar top.
I nod. “You?”
“Green,” he says. “I always liked forest green, but now I think I’m leaning toward more of a hazel.”
I feel heat crawl up my chest at his words. My eyes are hazel.
I clear my throat. “Red,” I repeat. “And dark, but not dingy. More like sultry. I want it to feel sophisticated but also relaxing. Somewhere you could go for a casual drink, but also where you could go for a night out. I want to have mismatched lamps and booths against the wall. I love a good booth. I don’t know.
” I slow down as I realize that I’m now rambling. “I just want it to be perfect.”
“I have no doubt you’ll make it happen,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar close to my thigh.
“How could you know, hotshot? You don’t know anything about me.”
He frowns. “That’s not true. You’re Marina, you’re working in this sticky bar until you have the experience to open up your own sophisticated bar, I’m assuming, back in the small town you came from.
Your favorite color is red, and you are easily the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. ”
Red is my body’s favorite color too, because I can feel it crawling up my chest and onto my cheeks. He’s a charmer, alright.
Miles stands up and walks in the opposite direction, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“God I can imagine you get guys saying that kind of shit to you on the daily, I’m sorry.
I’m coming off like a real creep.” He turns around.
“This is exactly what creeps do as well, they come into bars and harass women?—“
“You’re not harassing me, Miles,” I say, letting him hear the smile in my voice, because his rambling is adorable.
It makes me less self-conscious about my own.
“You have nothing to apologise for. Me essentially asking you to take your shirt off is probably closer to harassment than anything you’ve said.
” I laugh, and it brings a smile to his face as he starts walking back to where I’m still sitting on the bar.
“I don’t suppose there’s a boyfriend back in that small town, is there?”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t be sitting here flirting with you if there was.”
“That’s good,” he says, leaning his hands on the bar on either side of my body.
My instincts say I should feel claustrophobic, but I feel relaxed being this close to him.
Well, somewhere between relaxed and on edge at the same time, because this man is very close to me, and I don’t have a single protest on my lips about it.
“Is it, now?” I can’t help the way my tongue darts out to moisten my bottom lip that he’s staring directly at.
“Yeah, it is,” he whispers, his eyes darting around my face but landing back on my lips. “Because I really want to kiss you right now.” My heart starts beating erratically in my chest as his eyes roam my face. “And that might be crazy considering we don’t really know each other like you said but?—”
I don’t hesitate as I grab Miles by the collar of his shirt and pull him into me, smashing my lips right into his.
He groans as I open my mouth, my tongue tentatively moving toward his. His hands move from the bar to grab my hips, his grip tighter than I’d expected, and it makes me lean further into him.
His lips envelop mine in what I think is the best kiss of my entire life. His lips are soft against mine, his kiss warm and inviting. His tongue meets mine in my mouth and he tastes sweet, like candies, and it just makes me want to keep on kissing him and never stop.
I bring my arms to wrap around his neck and his wrap around my waist, leaving our bodies flush together. “Oh my god,” he mutters in between kisses.
“I know,” I respond.
His lips leave mine, but before I can complain, one of his hands is in my hair and his warm mouth is pressed against my neck.
His tongue licks against my hot skin. It’s electric, I feel lit up by his touch.
Like every piece of skin his fingertips touch sparks something deep inside me.
Like whatever lives under my skin is instinctively drawn to this man.
“Miles,” I moan.
He presses small kisses up my throat until his face is back in front of mine. “Yeah, princess?”
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth. “Princess?”
“It feels like it suits.” He shrugs.
I trail my fingers up his neck, dragging fingers into his hair, my nails scratching his scalp. He closes his eyes on instinct. “Would a princess be sitting on the edge of a sticky bar making out with a guy she met yesterday?”
He smiles. “My kind of princess would.” And then he presses a gentle kiss to my mouth.
“God, you’re such a smooth talker, aren’t you?” I giggle, my forehead meeting his.
He chuckles. “Not usually.”
“Only for me, huh?”
His grin widens. “Only for you.”