Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

He slides one hand under my blouse and presses his palm against my lower back.

He pulls me closer.

Sucks on my bottom lip. Softly. Then harder.

I bring my hand to his hair. Part my lips to make way for his tongue.

Lust pushes aside every other desire. I don't want good whiskey. Or understanding. Or dinner.

I only want this tall, handsome stranger's body pressed against mine. Erasing every thought in my head.

I slide my hand under his t-shirt. He's hard. Strong.

My hand explores the lines of his torso.

The other knots in his hair.

Desire spreads through my body as his tongue dances with mine.

As he peels off my leather jacket and tosses it on the coffee table.

He cups my breasts with his palm. Slides his thumb into my bra to play with my nipple.

Fuck.

This is intense. It's different like this. Good different. But scary different too.

Slowly, he backs me into the wall.

He pins me with his hips. His tongue plays with mine. His thumb toys with my nipples, one then the other.

I don't know his last name.

And I don't care.

Some free, uninhibited Iris is taking over. No, I know that Iris. It's just she usually only comes out after four or five shots.

He pulls back.

I stare into his eyes. "Bedroom."

He nods. Steps backward to release me.

I move through the living room.

My bedroom is small, but it's nice. I flip the switch for the string lights. The soft glow of the white paper lanterns bounces off my plain grey bedspread and sheets. Off my Ikea vanity and dresser.

They make the room feel homey.

Comfortable.

Like a place for old lovers.

Walker shuts the bedroom door and leans against it. His dark eyes pass over me. He drinks me in.

His eyes find mine. "Take off your jeans."

"What?"