Say Please

TMI

 I scrolled through playlists on my phone, unsure of the vibe we wanted to create. I scrolled through names such as Bedroom Tunes, Party Party Yeah, Get Hyped, Sad Girl Vibes, and on and on. Finally, I found a playlist titled Chill Drinks and clicked shuffle—not even bothering to look at the contents. This would have to do. In the background, Silk Sonic played.

I waited for Chan to finish making our cocktails on the corner of the couch that was closest to our large windows. I looked out at the now darkness that was illuminated only by the city lights. I watched as streaks of white passed by as cars whizzed down the interstate, and red lights flashed as people put on their brakes.

"Here you are." Chan handed me a steaming coffee mug. "I put two fireball shots in each, so I'm sorry if it's too strong." I took a sip in response, allowing the warmth of the cider run through my body. It was strong, yes, but something about the hot beverage helped it go down easy.

"It's great," I smiled back.

"Which playlist did we go with?" He asked.

"It's called Chill Drinks. What plays will be a surprise to both of us. Part of the fun I guess!" I patted the couch and he sat down and set his cup on the glass table at our feet. One arm fell to his side—his hand resting on his thigh—and the other stretched out along the back of the couch. His fingertips were inches from my shoulder, and the urge to scoot closer to his touch was almost unbearable. However, I stayed where I was.

"So what is this question game?" He inquired, breaking the moments of silence between us. I opened my phone and pulled up the website.

"So," I began, placing my phone on the half cushion between us. "You just click the button and answer whatever question pops up. If you don't want to answer it for some reason, I guess you can take a big swig of your drink." He nodded and motioned for me to begin. I clicked the blue button and waited for my question.

"What is one embarrassing moment from your childhood?" I read aloud. This one was easy—I had too many of them to count. "Well, one time we were playing Simon says in kindergarten and my friend made me laugh so hard that I peed my pants in front of everyone. Ooh," I exclaimed, "or in high school I really liked this guy—although we had never talked before—and a mutual friend of ours was going to introduce us casually at lunch. And when they walked up and he introduced himself my friend yelled from behind me 'isn't that the boy you love, Skye?' And I just about died." We laughed together at the cringeworthy moments.

Through the question generator, I learned his favorite colors were all shades of blue, he didn't really have a favorite food, that he used to be very shy, that working as an editor helped him come out of his shell, and that he would love to travel the world soon. I told him about my fear of open water and about the most beautiful snapshot of nature I'd ever seen was (fun fact: it's the top of the Paradise Point hike at Mount Rainier).

Chan clicked the button. This time, the question generator went deep. His eyes widened as he read the words. What is something you're thinking about right now that you don't want anyone else to know?

"Does this mean you're taking an extra large sip of your drink?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood and hide the fact that my heart was beating at workout levels now.

"Hell no, just need a moment to sort through all my thoughts to pick the best one. I'll pick one that will make you blush for sure," he winked, his confidence back with full force.

"No way you'll be able to. I am a stone," I said dramatically, flattening all the features on my face, placing my cup on the table as I did so. Taking this as a challenge, Chan inched his way toward me, his fingers closing the gap I wanted to so badly earlier.

"If you must know," he began, eyes darkening with an emotion I didn't dare name, "I'm thinking about how amazing that dress looks on you, but how much better you'd look with it off." His tongue darted to the inside of his cheek as he grinned, satisfied with his answer.

My stone-faced demeanor melted quickly. At his comment my eyes widened and my cheeks flushed with heat. The heat in my core now burned.

"Oh," was all I could let out. My voice quivered.

As if the universe had sensed the shift in mood, "How Does it Feel" came through the speakers. The hairs on my arms prickled as Chan's thumb traced circles on my shoulder. The air was heavy.

Whether it was the haze of the liquor or the music or the electricity between us, we snapped.

He gripped my shoulder as I twisted into his lap. The hem of my dress lifted to my hips, and I felt Chan's hands exploring the newly exposed skin. Each brush of his palms and pinch of his fingertips sent wave after wave of pleasure shooting to my core. My mouth was on his with urgency—like I had to make up for every time I had imagined this. He matched my fervor, his tongue gliding along my bottom lip as he searched for me. My lips parted slightly, allowing him further intrusion.

My hands wrapped in his locks and pulled him closer to me. I reveled in the feel of his waves, in the feel of the pulse in his neck as my fingers drifted down to his shoulders. This. This is how it should feel. His touch felt like magic—like watching the first firework of the night explode above you. It was a type of feeling you never wanted to let go of.

Chan's lips left mine and began to work their way across my jaw. I couldn't help but giggle with pleasure, which he did also. The movement was enough to press his growing pleasure between my legs. I wiggled against him, wanting more—all—he had to offer. A guttural growl escaped him and the vibrations sent another shock to my core.

He moved lower, kissing and nipping at the skin under my ear, down my neck. As he hit my collarbone, he bit down gently and my head fell back with ecstasy. I wanted to live in these moments forever.

The room spun around me, and I felt Chan's grip tighten as I fell backwards.

"Whoops," I stumbled, "got a little dizzy." I giggled, then hiccuped. Curse these drinks. His smile was warm as he studied me. He brought my face back to his level and kissed me softly.

"Let's go to bed."

I pouted dramatically. "Aww, why?" He let out a bellowing laugh and his eyes crinkled in just the way I loved.

"Because, we are both pretty drunk—you more so. And I don't want this to be a moment you wake up tomorrow and regret. I'd rather do this when we can both fully live in the... pleasure." He traced the heart on my thigh and smiled.

"Fine," I whined. "Can we cuddle? I love a good cuddle." Wow, I really am drunk.

"Of course," he pulled me to his side and I rested my head on his thigh. I listened to his pulse through his skin and matched my heartbeat to his.

Coming down from the high of our encounter, sleep pressed against every fiber of my being. My eyelids closed at a slower and slower pace.

I nuzzled into his thigh and whispered, "I don't want this to change anything between us, ya know?"

His knuckles grazed my cheek affectionately, and he replied, "I don't think I can go back to how things were."

Sleep consumed me.