meeting a stranger at the coffeehouse [MF] [fiction]

His hands were tangled in my hair, my legs were wrapped around his body. It didn’t seem real that I had only met this man a few hours earlier.

He seemed innocent enough when he offered to pay for my coffee, keeping up witty banter with me as we waited for our lattes. The spark between us was undeniable, and by the time we were sitting down, chatting while sipping our coffees, I already knew I wanted to get him home, in my car, or anywhere else I could feel the fire in his body up close to mine.

His green eyes drew me in, the stubble on his face looked the perfect length for me to grind against, his hands were veiny and strong. The muscles on his arms showed that he went to the gym, but the quick responses he gave me told me he was so much more than his rugged handsome looks. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his wicked smile as we spoke, or the way his eyes twinkled and told me so much more than his words did.

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