Page 4 of Sinful Affair
A margarita. Classic choice. Not one that I would have expected her to drink.
“She’s working late, I have nowhere else to be, otherwise I’ll be sitting at home by myself,” I shrug my shoulders as I take my seat next to her.
“Oh,” she rubs her lips together as her fingers tap on the bottom of her glass.
“I can go if…”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m just in a mood,” she admits, “just being a brat.”
And for some reason, that word falling from her lips has my cock hard.
“A brat?” my lips twitch just as the bartender asks for my order. “I’ll have the same as Bella,” I smile, but my eyes are on her.
“Yeah, can be sometimes, plus with the shit day…”
“She made it hell?”
She scoffs a laugh, her eyes glistening.
“She always makes it hell,” and I don’t miss the way she turns away from me, the way her voice is a little quieter now.
“I’m sorry.”
She laughs, twisting her stool around so she is facing me. “Why are you sorry?” her head tilts, full lips parted as she waits for me to answer.
“Just am,” my eyes fall to her lips.
“Well, you shouldn’t be apologising for her.” She’s facing the bar again then takes a sip of her cocktail just as mine is placed in front of me.
“Anyway, enough about work…” I pick the glass up by the stem and hold it towards her, “cheers!”
“Cheers,” she sings as our glasses clink.
And that’s when the evening took a turn.
We’re both about six or seven drinks deep. We’re laughing at stupid stories, and when she nearly falls off her stool, my hand reaches for her and lands on her thigh. Time stands still for a moment, our eyes connect, and I don’t miss the way my palm is tingling from her skin.
Pulling it away for just a moment, I cough, clearing my throat.
“Sorry,” she pants, her chest rising and falling.
“It’s fine,” I mutter, even though I have no idea what she is apologising for.
Sitting up tall, I shrug my suit jacket off, suddenly too hot. I fold it and hang it over the bar. I don’t miss the way Bella’s gaze roams over me, as if tracing every inch of me with her eyes.
“She doesn’t appreciate you,” she breathes out just as her eyes find mine. “She doesn’t deserve you…”
“No?” I find myself asking, leaning a little closer into her.
“No,” she shakes her head just as she slips off the stool and fear pricks at the back of my neck that she is leaving.
“Where are you going?” I edge off my stool, now standing in front of her and shamelessly I am staring at her tits.
“Ladies’,” she presses her hand against my chest, and I know she can feel the way my heart is racing beneath my skin.
She winks and then turns to walk down the narrow hallway and my eyes greedily roam over her. Pert ass, tight little skirt and long fucking legs that would look so good wrapped around my back.
I sit back down for a moment when I see her disappear. I eye the bartender then back to where she walked. I pat my jacket and the bartender gives me a nod as I push out of my seat and follow the little temptress that I have somehow became infatuated with.