Obsessive (AMBW)

Act XII

Milan

When we both got to the beer place, we were already drunk out of our minds, giggling like little schoolgirls on a playdate.

"Wait, Americans do that? No fucking way." He chuckled, taking another swig of his beer. The poor lady had cleaned up his mess.

"Way! It's so stupid!" I cried, taking a swig right behind him. We got along better than I hoped, joking around and then being super serious and then teaching each other phrases in the others language.

"First impressions of me, go." I grinned, without wasting time he answered.

"Stunning." He said, his ears turned pink which led him to drink more. "You?"

"Strange." I started, thinking how to make it less mean. "Weird even. Who masturbates at work?" I threw my hands up, people turned their heads to us which made us giggle even more.

"You." Another sip. "'Cause of you."

I swallowed, looking down. We're drunk, I thought, it's only because we're drunk. We drank more into the night, by the time we got into his car, it was 1 am.

"I had fun with you tonight." But it was more slurred, so I'm not even sure what it sounded like.

"Neither of us can drive." He murmured. "Hotel is right there. Come."

The conversation after drinking was slurred and messed up, he could only tell the lady at the desk we wanted a room and that he knew how to say "Peter Piper pecked a pickled pepper" ten times fast.

"Your room number is 690," the lady said, he threw his card at her and grabbed my wrist.

"Woah now." I slid my hand off of him, he turned, lacing his fingers in mine as he looked me in the eyes.

"This better?" He whispered, taking me with him.

Fuck me for expecting him to get two rooms.

I didn't care the amount of money he gave me or payed for me, I accounted it as my pay. But for fucks sake only one room is wild.

Even worse that the woman assumed I was some prostitute and it was some type of love room.

"This is less than ideal, but we can make it work," he started, looking around at everything. "You can make the couch work, right?" He joked, sitting down as he unbuttoned each button of his shirt. I could see every tattoo on his body, and that made me feel something I didn't want to.

They trailed his lower-neck, his left arm, and a tattoo which was around the V of his pelvis.

"Don't look too hard, you remember what happened last time you checked me out." He lifted a brow, pulling his shirt leaving only his pants. Fuck he was muscular.

But two could play at that game.

I shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Sliding my dress over my legs, I took off my thigh garters, peering over to make sure he was getting a show. I could blame the fact that I was drunk but...

Damn.

I thought back to what underwear I was wearing. Dark red lace, I think. I gripped my dress by the waist, watching Dak-Ho with lazy eyes.