I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth at the taste of her tongue against mine, and my hips pulse reflexively up to meet hers. But before I can reach the heat emanating from her core, she grasps my neck in her hand and pushes me away, pressing...
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Love really has you doing crazy things.
I'm sitting in a hideous paisley booth of some run down burger spot, a back alley location that I managed to miss the few years I've lived here. At first glance, it looks like a place you shouldn't bring children, not only because it's run down and looking like it's on its last legs, but also because the clientele is a bit...rough around the edges.
I was skeptical when I walked in, but after ordering the burger recommended by my bright-eyed waitress, I must say I'm glad I decided to order before meeting Oil or Vinegar or whatever the fuck his name is.
By the time he arrived, my plate was clean and I was considering ordering dessert.
I waved him over when the little bell announcing customer arrival rang. He greeted me with a wide smile and soft eyes.
Interesting.
I look him up and down, noting the scuff marks on his clothes, the general lack of care to what he put together. It must be nice to walk the world with such inherent confidence oozing out of every oversized muscle. I had to earn this brazen disposition, but he appears to walk the world like a clueless and bumbling buffoon.
Yes, I'm making assumptions based on his appearance, but I am still upset with his actions.
"Hey–"
I cut him off with a raised hand. "Skip the pleasantries. I'm here because I care about Kai. Nothing else."
He slid into his side of the booth and began playing with the napkin on the table.
"Look, I wanted to apologize. It wasn't until Kai knocked some sense in me that I understood what I did was wrong. I'm sorry."
I pick up my nearly finished oreo milkshake and sip until there's not a lick left and all you can hear is my straw slurping. All the while, I don't break eye contact. I watch the large muscled man squirm in his side of the booth, reveling in the slight anxiety I'm causing him.
I place my cup down and signal for the waitress to hand me my check.
"Thank you for apologizing. Is that all?" I start to grab my things to leave.
Situations like these make me uncomfortable. It's un-tread territory. I can count on one hand the amount of times a man has sat in front of me of his own volition and apologized for his actions. Typically there is a whip in my hands and a heel at their throat.
"I...Yeah, sure." He looks down at his napkin a bit dejected. I sigh and release my hands from my bag.
"It's clear you came here for something else too. Out with it."
He fiddles with his fingers for a bit, likely fumbling around in that small brain of his for the right words.
I really need to stop being such an asshole to people in my head.
