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The evening was a total wash, and although I was trying to be polite, the reality is that I kept stealing glances at the kitty while Tanya was talking about work and her hobbies and then, finally, her husband. That was when I realized that the thing between us couldn’t go anywhere, but if I read the signals correctly, Tanya wasn’t really looking for something long-term. She didn’t seem to want anything past tonight. Besides, she went back inside to the mixer. I’m pretty sure she’s going to keep prowling until she finds someone she likes. Tanya seems a bit determined. She’s not likely to give up easily.
Now I’m holding the sweetest little cat I’ve ever met. She seemed irritated earlier. I’m not sure if she came out on a date that went poorly or if she was here for the mixer, but either way, she was stressed and anxious. The bartender kept pouring her drinks and she was inhaling them like they were sweet milk. Now I’m realizing that I was right earlier: Tanya isn’t what I need.
What I need is someone soft and sweet.
What I need is someone like the drunk kitty-cat rubbing against me right now.
Does she even realize that she’s practically purring?
Does she know what’s happening right now?
She’s lovely and sweet. She’s strong for someone who appears to be so outwardly delicate. It’s a bad idea to go to a mixer and then not mix. I shouldn’t have spent the entire evening talking to Tanya, especially once I realized she was married. I should have made a move earlier to t
alk to more people, especially this woman. She was talking to someone, though, and then to someone else. I didn’t want to interrupt or impose. Perhaps I should have. Maybe I could have saved us both some stress. Now, it might be too late. The night is over, and I still don’t have a date for the wedding. I can’t ask her now. She’s so beyond drunk at this point that it would be stupid and cruel to ask.
“I can call you a car,” I tell her quietly. “I’ll wait with you until it comes to make sure you’re safe.”
“What a gentleman.”
“I try my best.”
She holds up her phone and points to it.
“There are no more cars for now,” she tells me. “Thirty-minute wait. That usually means an hour, though.”
I look around. It’s well after midnight and there should be taxis around, but a large crowd left about ten minutes ago. I’m guessing all of the cabs are currently occupied. To be honest, it’s a pretty small town, and even with the bars, there isn’t a ton of demand for public transportation options. Waiting for cabs kind of comes with the territory when you live in a place like Tigress. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way it goes.
“Then I’ll drive you,” I tell her. “Because you shouldn’t walk home alone.”
“Aren’t you drunk, too?”
“I’m not,” I told her. “I was drinking soda. Would you like me to take you home?”
It’s unusual for me to offer to do something for another person, especially someone I don’t know, but the woman is in need and I’ve never been one to leave someone hanging. Not when it’s serious. Something tells me that she absolutely will march home in that tiny skirt and those too-high heels, but if she doesn’t fall and break her ankle on the way, something much worse could happen.
Yeah, not on my watch.
To my surprise, she doesn’t argue. Instead, she turns around and presses her hands to my chest. She looks up at me and those damn eyes just sear into my fucking soul. Perfection. That’s literally all I’m seeing right now: sheer perfection. My cock hardens, but I’m not embarrassed at my reaction to her. She’s just as turned on as I am right now, but I don’t think either one of us is going to make a move tonight. I won’t kiss someone who’s drunk. Not someone I don’t know. Not someone I’m not currently in a relationship with.
She looks at me and licks her lips. Instantly, I wonder what she would look like on her knees in front of me. Would she kiss my cock passionately? Would she suck it and lick it with excitement? Would she tease me slowly? Would she just crawl up me and slide down onto it?
Fuck.
I shouldn’t be thinking these things.
Not about a stranger.
Not about this woman.
A ride.
I offered her a ride.
“A ride?” I ask again, trying to clear my dirty mind.
“Okay,” she nods. “But I want to sit in the back.”
“The back?”
