Martini

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He whispered, and the words were familiar.  Against the throng of sweaty bodies, and cold drinks, Leila's head felt fuzzy.

She tried to focus at his equally polite face, it was a rude question, subjected to a sad category of improper introductions, but he couldn't make it sound rude or in the least impolite.  It sounded like an offer, a good suggestion.

He had almond brown eyes, and they became dark and light against the sheer irritating bright lights that bounced off the ceilings and walls.  His jaw was defined, along with his matching brown hair that curled sexily at the tips, but it was his lips that made her stare, they were a shade of flesh and cherry, but more on the flesh, and they quirked up at her rather blank expression.

He wore a green shirt and jeans, perfect for a Friday night out, his breath smelled of a martini, and funnily, that intoxicated her senses to a level of acknowledgement.

Yes, or no, yes, or no...all she had were those two answers.  Yes, he looked impeccably good, smelled sinful even, but the question was rude, and she wasn't that type of girl.

His stance was unwavering, that tiny grin, too.  He tipped his head to the side, his eyes searching.

"You don't even know my name yet." She evenly pointed out.

"Ah." He said.  "Of course," he didn't move any closer, but she could feel an air of intensity she hadn't experienced before, even with the men that took her to bed couldn't topple what he made her feel at the heady moment, probably it was the alcohol then.  Yup, she did have to blame the alcohol.

He extended his hand for a shake.  "I'm Nate, and you are?"

She took his warm hand.  "Leila."

"Well, nice to meet you, Leila." He replied in that cliche manner people always did, but what took her by surprise was the abrupt second he took a step close, his lips barely touching the nook of her bare neck and the base of her ear, it was enough, though, to feel the warmth of his breath creep up on her exposed flesh.

"Now, Leila, will you have sex with me?" 

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