Blame It On The Gin:On The Rocks

He looks over his shoulder. "That's better," he says.

His back is bare, muscular, and strong. His biceps are ripped.

"That shirt was filthy."

"Sorry," I say.

"You don't have to apologize," he says, reaching for a bottle of champagne in the small refrigerator under the bar. He grabs two champagne flutes, fills them with liqueur and the champagne and a cherry. He walks back to me, hands me a glass, and then lets the flutes clink.

"Cheers," he says. "A French 75. It's gin and champagne; you'll like it."

She smiles and we clink glasses again.

"It's delicious," I say after taking a sip. "I guess we really can blame everything on the gin tonight."

"No, no, no, no," he says. "If you think this is going to get you drunk, I'm cutting you off. I want you sober for what happens next. I want you to remember all of it.”

I smile, loving everything about this moment.

“So, tell me about yourself," he says. "Tori says you don't really like to have fun. You say you weren't up for a party. I'm honestly just surprised that someone as sexy as you is still a virgin. You're gorgeous, Ginny."

I laugh. "I had a glow up this year. The pandemic made me crazy. Being in my apartment, all alone, doing online classes, ugh, it got bad. I started watching these videos on hair and makeup and I found a style I like, and anyways, I’m rambling. Why are you single?"

Grant takes another drink of his champagne before setting the glass down. "I told you on the elevator. I don't sleep around. I'm looking for a wife."

I spit out my drink, his words shocking me. "A wife? Really? I thought you were just being silly."

"No, I truly want a wife. Is that an issue?"

"I mean, not for me. Marriage sounds great if you’re in love. I've just never been in love so I've never really considered it, personally."

"Neither have I," he tells me plainly. “Been in love.”

"Then how do you know you want to be married, that you want a wife?" I press back, setting my glass down.

"Because I'm sick of working and sleeping and doing it again. I want more. I have money, but I want a partner to share it with."

"Okay," I say. "I get that. I mean, life is pretty lonely. Last year, when I was stuck in my apartment, I was thinking, is this everything?"

"So you want more than that too?" he asks me.

"Yeah. I mean, doesn't everyone?"

He nods. "Some more than others." He stands, pulling me from my seat. "We don't have to talk about the future," he says. "You came here to fuck, so let's just focus on the now."

I laugh, relaxing in those blunt and to-the-point words. "Okay. That helps a bit because I was feeling a little like you were wanting an answer."

Grant smiles. "Oh, I want an answer, but my question is this: do you want me to lick your pussy first or do you just want me to go ahead and fuck you?"

7

GRANT

Her eyes are wide open, innocent in a way that has my cock hard. She's eager, wanting, ready. I wrap my arm around her waist, pressing her against me.

"Do my words overwhelm you?"

She wraps her arms around my neck, looking up into my eyes. "They don't overwhelm me. I mean, being eaten out or getting my cherry popped. This is a tough question. I honestly don't know how to answer."

"But you have thought about it, what you really want?" I ask her, running my hand down her back, squeezing her ass cheeks. They're perfect, plump and round.

"I mean, they both sound pretty nice," she says, licking her lips.

"They do, don’t they? But I think we should take this slow."

She laughs; her head falls back. "Slow? I met you less than two hours ago and I'm already in your house offering my body to you. Or maybe you're offering your body to me. Either way, I don't think this is going slow."

"Fair enough," I say, dropping my mouth to hers, kissing her hard. She gasps against my mouth, her lips parting, her tongue finding mine. I devour that mouth of hers. She's melting in my arms and I lift her up, my hands still on her ass, my mouth on her lips, and I carry her to my bedroom, to my bed, the place she is going to lose that V-card of hers. She makes a little jump on the mattress.

"Okay, this is exciting," she says.

I chuckle. "I love how candid you are. You say how you feel, what you want. I like it. Your honesty."

"Most girls are not so honest?"

I shake my head. "You have no idea. People lie to get what they want. People cheat and people catfish. I don't know, all kinds of shit."

"Not me," she says, shaking her head, dragging a pillow underneath her skull. Comfortable in my room, damn, it's a good sight.