I was leaned over the sink in the dim bar bathroom, about to reapply the dark lipstick that had been worn off by too much tequila and shit talking that night when the bathroom door flew open, and he quickly stepped inside and locked the door.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “Occupied!”
He just looked at me for a second before he covered the distance between us in two steps and kissed me deeply. Hungrily.
What. The. Fuck.
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do, but against my will my tongue found his after a second and returned the kiss. What the fuck was happening right now? And why was I totally fucking on board for it?
We just stood there for a second, in a shocked state pressed up against each other, until he spun me back around to face the sink and our eyes met in the mirror. His lips found my neck.
“This is crazy,” I said. “What are you doing?” But I already knew.