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“I can’t. You’re so fucking beautiful, and I just need a taste. I just need…” His eyes are glowing into mine. I don’t think he’s used to being told no, and wanting something he can’t have.
“Alex. No. And especially no to anything in a bathroom in a bar.” Does he not know how many germs are in here? That’s disgusting.
A low rumble comes from his chest, and a slow smile turns the corners of his lips up.
The most kissable lips I’ve ever seen.
I know they’d taste like sin and whiskey, with a hint of regret.
I can’t go there.
Saving me, Alex takes a step back, shaking his head and rubbing his chin. God, I bet that stubble would feel amazing against my skin. “I’ll let you have your way.” He smirks. “This time.”
Oh, lord.
Flicking the lock open, he looks back at me over his shoulder before pulling the door open and walking out.
I stay where I am, though, watching the door close slowly. My hands grip the counter’s edge tightly, and it takes everything in me not to let my arms give out. They’re the only things holding me up at the moment.
Taking a deep breath, I steel my spine and turn around, looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes are wide, and my skin is flushed. I look like I was just denied something I wanted so very badly and now regret it. Which I was, and am.
I made the right decision, though.
Pushing my hair back behind my shoulders, I straighten and walk out of there like nothing happened. Luckily, the bathroom entrances are hidden around the corner from the rest of the bar, so no one will have seen Alex and I coming or going from the woman’s bathroom at the same time.
Alex is back behind the bar, and my eyes follow his every move as I weave my way around people and tables. But instead of going back to my friends, my feet carry me towards him like they have a mind of their own.
Apparently, I’m into torturing myself. I wanted him to stop before, but I also wanted him to ignore me and kiss me until I couldn’t think of why I didn’t want him to.
Sliding up onto a barstool, I wait for him to notice me, and watch as our little secret glimmers in his eyes as they roam over my face. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and his eyes zero in on my mouth.
Walking over, he leans forward on the bar and murmurs low so only I can hear, “I should have just kissed you anyway. Because now all I can think about is licking your bottom lip and taking it between my teeth like you’re doing now.”
A moan catches in my throat, and I release my lip.
I really want him to do that.
And I hate that I can’t help wanting him to do that.
His eyes harden at the look I’m giving him. “You would’ve let me, wouldn’t you have?”
Of course I would’ve. But I refuse to throw myself at him like every other woman.
Nope. Not me. I’m smarter than that.
I think.
Instead of answering him, I bite my lip again, and lean in the slightest bit. “I’ll have another drink, please.”
Smiling, he reaches for a stemmed wine glass, but I shake my head no. “Whiskey. Neat.” I usually just drink wine, but whiskey calms me, and gives me courage when I need it.
His eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t say anything. Alex just pours two fingers of Maker’s Mark into a lowball glass and pushes it across the worn, scratched wood towards me.
Swirling the glass on the bar, I watch the amber liquid spin before raising it to my lips and taking a sip. The warm, smooth fire slides down my throat, and I let the burn take over.
His eyes follow my throat’s movements, and then harden when my tongue peeks out to lick away the taste from my lips.
“See you for the next round,” I tell him, sliding off the stool and walking back to my table, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.
