Hunger
…
The deep conversations turned into fiery foreplay.
She crossed her long legs over mine. I had my Campari in one hand, while the other hand travelled across her legs, then her neck, then her breasts. No resistance. She kept affirming by leaning into my every single move.
But when I went to kiss her, she refused. There were too many eyes staring, she said.
But the tension was there. Her hand went across my neck, her fingers through my hair.
…