“So, why don’t you drink?”
My breath hitched, and air left my lungs like a deflating balloon. I blinked long and rocked my head from side to side, rubbing my hands down my jeans. It was a question I hadn’t heard in a while, mostly because I didn’t often bother admitting my lack of interest in alcohol consumption. I didn’t care for the interrogation it inevitably brought.
Everyone seemed to drink on some level—a glass of wine at night, some beers on a Wednesday, getting sloshed every weekend. Someone being left to their own devices wasn’t my business, but when you told someone you didn’t drink, your reason suddenly became everybody’s business. The truth was, my reason was never good enough for people.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Emma’s gentle tone stole my attention.
I adjusted my shoulders and said, “No. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. I’ve just seen every way alcohol affects people, and I’m not interested.”
She looked at me curiously and replaced the lid. “So, you serve the alcohol instead?”
“Yeah. I mean”—I scratched my neck in an attempt to gather my thoughts quickly—“if I’m the one serving the alcohol, I have the power to cut people off if they get carried away and make sure they get home safely at the end of the night.”
The song’s last verse was fading when Emma approached, unassertive. Our faces were so close I could feel her breath, her soft, steady regard enough to make my heart strangely skip.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Her gaze went from right to left and then down before moving up again.
“Can I kiss you?”
Huh. That was new. Usually people just went for it.
My nod was slight. Not for lack of wanting it—and I wanted it—but because I was a bit surprised by the earnest gesture.
As I fumbled for a proper response, I hardly realized the space between us had dissipated. Her hand went for my cheek, and meeting her halfway was as easy as breathing. Sparks tiptoed across my body, quickly growing into flames that licked at my skin, an all-consuming fire I hadn’t experienced before.
She tasted like strawberry lip balm. And I only wanted more.
Our kisses started slow, gentle, but it wasn’t long until my arms were around her, fiercely bringing her in. The temptation to lay and pin her down on the bar to hear her sweet voice in the form of a moan was strong. With fleeting restraint, I pulled away and led her around tables and stools, to and through the back door. The journey was a blur; we couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Once outside, she twisted me around to push me against the building and kissed me hard. I managed to tame the desire to explore her body then and there, my fingers making their way under the collar of her shirt to inch us toward the other door in the alley—the entrance to my apartment.
Screwing with the keys was the most frustrating part. I just wanted the door open and for this woman to be grinding on me.
We hurried up the stairs and were in the darkness of my living room for mere moments before I turned on a lamp. I brought Emma into me. Our kiss was broken by gasps for air and huffs of laughter as I tried to remove her clothes. My hands found her waist, fingers gliding to the button of her jeans as hers were laced in my hair.
Her words poured with heavy breaths. “Need some help?”
I snorted, feeling the thrum of my heart pierce my ears and flush my cheeks as I stared down at unworking hands fiddling with a stuck zipper.
“If you don’t mind?”
Biting the corner of her lip, her hands eagerly fell to mine, and the way her eyes lit up, she must’ve felt the same satisfying release hearing the zipper give way. She smirked and ever-so-slowly shimmied her jeans down her legs.
I didn’t watch. My eyes were fixed on hers, burning lust waiting—wanting to be extinguished.
She lifted her foot behind herself, removed it from her pant leg, and threw the article across the room, where it haphazardly landed on the couch. Taking my hands once again, she guided them to her hips. The warmth of her skin shot through me in a sensation that set the pit of my stomach ablaze.
She looked at me with seemingly innocent, striking brown eyes.
I leaned my forehead against hers, memorizing every freckle bridging her nose, and slid my embrace up the length of her body, feeling her shiver in its wake until it met her jawline.
Fuck. She was beautiful, so, so beautiful.
I coaxed her face to mine where our lips met again, forceful, yearning. For a brief moment, she pulled centimeters away, trapping my bottom lip between her teeth, and when she let go, the tip of her tongue flicked where her mark was left before she dove into me.
My body trembled as her wandering hands found their way up my shirt, her fingertips brushing the edge of my bra, daring to venture farther. It made me squirm, and I couldn’t help the strangled noise that escaped between a kiss.
As if the sound was enough to persuade her, she plucked the center of my bra, giggling, and when I whimpered, she sharply inhaled and ran her index finger down my stomach.
I let out a shuddered breath.
“I like the noises you make,” she whispered, inching her finger back up to my chest. “Let’s see what other noises you have in you.”
She lifted my bra and cupped my breast. I moaned lightly at first, but as her playful hold pushed and squeezed, as her fingers barely teased my nipple, the sound of satisfaction coming from my mouth only loudened.
She hummed and pressed into me and, in a velvety tone, said, “Purr for me.” Her free hand went for my waist and unbuttoned my jeans with ease.
“Fuck.” I barely noticed the curse had come out. Feeling her so close to my hips, dancing along the seam of my underwear, set off explosions inside me. “Please.”
“Oh.” She smiled deviously, removed her hand from under my shirt, and grabbed my chin to lock our gazes. “I like it when you beg.”
I folded. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed her. I needed her naked and wriggling in the next ten seconds, or I’d lose it.
I picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around me, and brought her to my bedroom where the door smacked the wall behind it. I laid her on the bed. She couldn’t remove her shirt fast enough before I crawled on top of her. I tugged the string of my bedside lamp, bathing us in a soft yellow glow before our lips met again.
My shirt came off next, and her nails down my back silenced the chill threatened by the cool air. I arched and moaned, but her fingers quickly found my head to pull me into a kiss. Not long after was my bra unfastened and launched somewhere I couldn’t care less. Her hands were all over me, holding my breasts, controlling my thrusts by my hips as she ground on me.
She kissed down my neck, teeth pinching along the way, along my shoulder, along my chest until her tongue flicked my nipple.
“Fuck.” It was more of a breath than a word, but, fuck, I couldn’t hold it back.
Her hands went for my pants, and the burst of heat that coursed through me when she moved my underwear aside made me gasp.
I wasn’t sure when it happened, but her mouth was next to my ear. “You’re so wet.”
Oh my fucking God.
Her touch was faint. I couldn’t find a single coherent thought past the swear words I moaned, and when her finger slid inside me, the helpless noise that came from me was instant.
She pushed deeper. “Look at me.”
I didn’t even realize I had closed my eyes. When I opened them, her lustful stare was dangerously inviting.
She went deeper again, and without breaking eye contact, I whimpered.
“Good girl.” She smiled and pulled her hand from between my legs to run her mouth the length of her finger. Biting her lip, she hummed a satisfied sound. “You taste so fucking good.”
___
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/12cyhpn/onenight_more