The Bartender

The feeling of her fingerprints on my skin engulfs my entire mind. It is all I can focus on, hoping to never lose this. Her lips on mine allowed me to taste the margarita that lingered on her lips from earlier in the night. Her tongue grazes my bottom lip, not in a way of asking but letting me know she's dying to taste me, feel me. Without a second thought, I part my lips enough to feel the light pressure of hers, sharing breaths now. She moves her angle and begins kissing down my cheek to my jaw, then neck, filling my body with fire.
"God, you're beautiful," she whispers in my ear as her teeth graze it, resulting in breathy moan from me. My hands move from around her neck, gliding down her sculpted arms, they feel amazing. I make my way to the hem of her shirt, tugging to signal that I need it gone. I need to feel her. This causes her to giggle lightly, "You only had to ask." She leans up from to remove her shirt with ease, revealing all of her tattoo from the bottom of her torso up to her neck.
I stare at her in admiration for a few seconds to really take in her beauty. Her hair stopping at her shoulders, flared throughout, partly due to me running my fingers through it. Tattoos scatter her entire body from large to small, as though her body is a canvas. My favorite one resembles a tree during wintertime. As you get higher on the tree, the branches spread out, covering her neck. There is something majestic about the art surrounding it.
Not realizing in my trance, I've run my hand from the bottom to the top of the tattoo, landing on her neck. I can hear her breath getting deeper and the bumps on her skin raise as she stares right into my eyes. A small smile raises on my face as I use my hand placed on her neck to bring her lips back to mine. She glides her hand up my stomach feeling a little restriction from my shirt. Without a second thought, my shirt is gone.
That's when I knew I was in trouble.