Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

You've never been one for these loud bars. Even when you were young you hated coming to places like this. Which is part of the reason you're surprised that you agreed when she invited you to come with her. You're even more surprised that she's interested in a place like this. You've already learned not to judge Sharon too quickly because she's always surprising you, but you would have never expected this. You're sitting beside her in a booth in the back of an Irish bar, college students every which way. It's not exactly the age difference you have with the other bar-goers, it's more the age difference between Sharon and the bar-goers. You don't see why a woman, who has kids this age, would want to come to a place like this. But as you sip your wine, trying to hear what she's saying, you don't question it.

"What?" You ask her, turning to face her.

She smiles softly, turning into you more. "I said, you didn't have to agree to come here if you didn't want to," she repeats and you have to strain to hear her over the music.

You move closer to her, your thigh against her, no longer wanting to have to fight to have a conversation. "I don't mind it here," you tell her.

"You look uncomfortable," she says, leaning closer in.

You bring your wine glass to your mouth, drinking half its contents. Your throat always feels dry when she does that – leans close to you as she licks her lips. If she only knew what she was doing to your body. "It's just a little louder than I'm used to, that's all."

"Hm," she hums, tilting her head as if she's trying to figure out if you're telling the truth. Your cheeks burn red under her lingering gaze and she licks her lips again. "You sure it's not something else?" Her question comes out with a lot of hot air, hot air that falls against your lips.

You nod your head, looking down at her hand, the one that's on the table close to your own. You want to move yours over, cover hers with it, and see what she does. You have a pretty good idea of what she might do, but you can never be certain with her. You've been doing things together twice a week for the past five months, the two of you spending most of the little free time you have together. You often find yourself having the urge to lean towards her, or put your hand on parts of her body, simply wanting to be close to her. This is the closest you've ever been. Your bodies are touching as you lean close to each other, only a few inches between your head and hers.

She's looking off in the distant behind you and you turn around, wanting to see what she's looking at. There's a man looking towards the two of you, most likely the only other older person in the bar. He smiles at you both and you fight back an eye roll, turning back to Sharon. She's still looking at him, an eyebrow raised and a soft smile gracing her lips. You suddenly feel too close, which makes you move back some. You wonder what Sharon's thinking as she looks at him, obviously not against him looking at her the way he is – which is with a look that should only be seen in the bedroom. You turn back to him and then to her, wondering if you should get up and sit on the other side, but you don't move. She has this look in her eyes, a look that you're oddly familiar with, one that makes a shiver move down your spine. So you wonder what it's doing to him and why she would even want it to do anything to him.

"You want to go over there? Better yet, how about you two just get a room?" You hear yourself say it, but you hadn't meant to voice it. It sounds like your're disgusted by the idea of her even looking at the man. You mentally shake your head, telling yourself to stop acting like the jealous girlfriend because you have no right.

She turns to you, her smile fading. "What?" She asks the question like she knows what you said, but she's giving you a chance to change your question. You shake your head, looking away, focusing on two people taking shots of what looks like tequila. You feel her move closer to you, her thigh back against yours, heating what was cooling down. "If you have something to say, then just say it," she says to you.

You turn your head, not noticing that she was this close to you, and your eyes meet hers, that look only becoming more apparent. You let out a shaky breath as you lick your lips and avert your eyes, but they end up on her lips, which isn't much better. You close your eyes, turning your head away, but not moving.

You feel her breath on your ear before you even hear her voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little..." She breathes against your ear before she finally says something. "Flushed," she whispers, her voice like the smoothest honey dripping into your ear.

"I'm fine," you choke out. You're not fine, though, especially after she whispered in your ear like that.

"You want to get out of here and go somewhere more quiet?" Once again she whispers it in your ear, but this time her lips brush against your ear slightly, making you bite your lip to hold in the gasp that almost escaped. "We could go to that place you like," she suggests.

"No," you answer quickly, loud enough for her to hear. Leaving here means she's going to stop whispering in your ear.

"Want to go outside and get some air?" You shake your head. She sighs against your ear and you actually hear yourself let out a soft moan as heat flushes your body. You're sure she doesn't hear because of the noise, luckily.

You turn your head slowly, your cheek beside hers, your lips close to her ear. "Do you want to get out of here? Is that why you keep askin' me?"

"Yes," she breathes, or maybe it's a purr, but it's only one word and it's hard to tell. All you know is that you feel a rumble in your lower stomach and it takes all your self-restraint not to moan in that woman's ear.

"Where do you want to go?"

She doesn't answer you for a while and you don't think she will. Then, right when you're about to pull back, you feel her hand on your thigh. "I don't care," she whispers.

You gulp, your eyes big from the moment you felt her hand on your thigh, but luckily you're facing the wall. You lick your lips and then let out a soft breath against her ear. "What do you want to do?"

"You need me to spell it out for you?" The question almost makes you roll your eyes, but just as you're about to, you feel her hand slide under your skirt, touching your bare thigh. You let out a sharp breath against her ear. "Figure it out yet, Chief?" She husks in a whisper. You nod stupidly, unable to speak. "So are we going to leave?"

Another nod and then you realize that you're on the outside, so you need to get up first. But Sharon's hand is still resting on your thigh, her finger absently tracing invisible circles. "Your hand," you breathe, clearing your throat.

She lets you get up and follows you out, her hand on the small of your back, letting you lead the way to her car. You can feel the heat from her hand through your thin shirt and it's spreading across your entire body. You stop before you reach the car and turn your head to her, looking at her. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn't speak. You bite your lip, your heart racing because you've wanted this for so long, but you know she's been with at least one woman, and you've been with none. She must sense the uncertainty because she moves closer to you, her eyes never leaving yours as she pulls you against her. She tilts her head slightly and kisses your lips softly. It's quick, but you get to taste the taste of her drink and a taste you're sure has to be what her mouth naturally tastes like because you've never tasted anything so delicious.

"Stop thinking so much," she whispers. You blush as a result from her kiss, looking down quickly, licking your lips and then back into her eyes. "This doesn't have to be difficult," she tells you surely.

"I know," you respond.

She smiles, one of those rare ones that make her eye crinkles deeper. "So how about we...?" She gives you a head nod towards the car, licking her lips after her words come out as a whisper against your lips.

"Let's," you whisper back, smiling at her before leaning forward and pecking her lips again, intoxicating yourself with the taste of her lips once more. But you know it won't be the last time.

The End.