DISCLAIMER: Short and sweet. Adapted from Crazy, Stupid, Love.
"Hey! You!" a voice called loudly.
Huh? I glanced behind me briefly before doing a double take and looking back.
The girl I had hit on a couple of weeks ago in the bar was standing in front me. Dripping wet and wearing an expression I never thought I would see on a girl like her, her face was set and determined. Her dress clung tight and perfectly to her wet skin, her hair dark and long. I swallowed.
And then she was walking right to me, slamming against me and kissing me soundly on the lips. Like an avenging angel come to take her revenge, she grabbed my face and steadied herself, deepening the kiss into something that was heady, and sure, and passionate. Fire burned through my body, rapidly scorching through my veins and into my bloodstream.
Whoa.
When the shock finally wore off, my arms went firmly around her waist. I gripped her tight, lifting her off the floor and kissing her back. She broke away quickly and looked me square in the eye, her lips parted. Her brown eyes flickered with a fire that was incredibly, insanely sexy. My lips still tingled from her touch.
"Do you remember me?" she asked, her tone businesslike.
"Yeah," I choked out. My world was hazy and confusing.
"Still find me attractive?"
"Yeah."
"Still wanna take home me home?"
"Yeah."
And with another quick kiss, she found her footing, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the bar.
It was raining when I moved to the bar to make us drinks. She waited in the living room as I brought us two old fashioned's; my choice of drink. She was looking around, almost nervously when I entered, like she didn't do this for often, or at all. The confidence from the bar was long gone, it seemed. My suspicions were confirmed when she downed not just her drink, but mine as well, within the space of 30 seconds. I stared.
"That's not my favourite." She smacked her lips together. "Thanks."
Puzzled, I put the glasses down.
"So is this how it normally works?" she enquired suddenly.
I slipped off my jacket. "What?"
"You know, you put on a perfect song, you make them a drink." She paused, placing her hands on her waist. Her next words were heavy. "And then you sleep together."
Pretty much. "Um, yeah." I sat down.
She clapped her hands together and breathed hard. "I'm very nervous."
I smiled. "I'm getting that."
She was fidgeting a lot, I noticed. The nervousness had translated into her body language. Truthfully...it was kind of cute.
"Okay, because I know I seemed confident back at the bar. But that was um, mostly because I was cold. And wet. And trying to be dramatic. A little bit…" she muttered, her last words coming out a pitch higher than normal.
"You're adorable," I stated simply.
Her expression hardened, her voice deep. "No."
I raised an eyebrow.
She gestured to herself desperately. "I am sexy. I am R rated sexy."
"Mmmhmm." I placed my hand over my mouth to hide my laugh and simply nodded.
"Okay, I know what happens in the PG 13 version of tonight. Alright? I know. It's that….I get really drunk. And then I pass out. And you cover me with a blanket and you kiss me on the cheek and nothing happens." She paused and shook her head. "But that's not why I'm here. I am here to bang the hot guy that hit on me at the bar."
I pointed to myself. "Dimitri."
"Dimitri."
I frowned. God, bang? "Are people still saying bang?"
She nodded. "Oh, I do. We are gonna bang. Hmmm?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"This is happening." She was still nodding. And then, "Take off your shirt." Her demand was sudden and impatient and completely out of the blue.
"Why?" I enquired, bewildered.
She was pacing. "Please, will you take of your shirt? Because I can't stop thinking. And I need you to just…"
"Okay, okay."
"Okay, okay, okay, okay."
The shirt came off. She stared, her eyes widening.
Silence. And then, "….Fuck! Seriously? It's like your photoshopped!"
I looked down. Really? I knew I was kind of cut, but…
"Can I…" she frowned, coming close and placing her hands on my chest.
Whoa! "Ah! You have cold hands." I exclaimed, flinching. She moved back, her eyes still wide.
"Now you need to take off your dress."
She looked at me like I was crazy and shook her head profusely. "No. No way. Not with all that going on. No, thank you. Is there like dim lighting somewhere? Oh god…" she muttered.
Her hand went to her head and she looked back at me, her eyes automatically moving to my chest. "Okay, so then what do we do? What happens now? Like logistically? What's your move?"
My big move? I feigned innocence. "What do you mean what's my move?
"What's your move? Like, what's your big move?"
"I got lots of moves."
"What's your big move?" Her voice grew louder.
"I'm not telling you my big move."
"Tell me your move!"
No way was I telling her. That was embarrassing. And private. A girl like her would probably laugh. And plus, it was something that was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be sudden, and spontaneous, and all wrapped up in subtlety, not stated blandly. It lost all its zest and sounded stupid when it was said aloud. "You're not ready for the big move."
"Yes, I am. I want your big move."
"Trust me, you can't handle my big move."
"Tell me your big move!" she cried.
When I showed her my "big move" however, there was no laughing. Her response was simple. "So do you prefer to do it here or in the bedroom?"
Review?
An Old Fashioned tastes like ass. Whiskey is the devil's juice.