thighs and channel my fingers into her wet cunt. I would get her nice and ready before I could sink deep inside her with ease.
She didn’t push my fingers away. In fact, she took a deep breath like my touch brought her to life. It invigorated her, sent warmth to her cold extremities. Her husband probably couldn’t elicit this same response from her even if he tried. He was probably some authoritative asshole who bought her things instead of giving her love.
“It’s a shame.” My fingers squeezed her thigh gently. “A gorgeous woman like you should be thoroughly satisfied every night before going to bed—and not by her own hand. Let me be of service to you.”
She grabbed my wrist but didn’t push me away immediately. Instead, she squeezed me, felt the cords of my wrists and forearms before she gently pushed my hand off her leg.
“Leave him.”
“Not an option.”
“Why?” He wouldn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“We don’t have a traditional marriage… I’ll just leave it at that.” She took a long sip like she was purposely trying to drink in an effort to dissociate herself from reality. “You should go. He’ll be here any minute, and I’ll have a difficult time explaining why your hand is on my thigh.”
“Who is he?”
“A business associate. Sometimes my husband has me do these deals for him. Says I can be persuasive…”
I looked her up and down, from her perfect tits to her perfect legs. She could get anything she wanted, flaunting her sexiness like that. “I bet.” I pulled out my wallet and left the cash on the table. I also pulled out a business card, a single white card with a black skull on the back. “Call me if you change your mind. I’d be happy to be your next climax.” I scooted to the very edge of the stool, leaned forward, and then scooped my hand into those luscious black strands. I gripped the back of her hair tightly before I pressed my mouth lightly against hers. Plump and soft, her lips tasted like candy. So sweet and addictive, they made me wonder if she tasted that way everywhere, especially between her legs. My mouth treasured the initial contact, the slight surprise in her lips as they parted slightly.
She kissed me back, invited me to take her mouth. Her kiss was still restrained, like she hadn’t gotten past the shock that I’d kissed her right in the middle of the bar, not giving a damn if the person she was meeting walked through the door and saw us.
My fingers sank deeper into her hair until I cradled the back of her neck. My mouth moved with hers a little faster, with a little more passion. Spontaneously, I gave her my tongue, and she gave me hers. The chemistry between us was so volatile and natural, and I was pissed I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it for the rest of the night. All I would have was the memory of this kiss and my imagination.
She was a great kisser. She kissed me like she hadn’t been kissed in years, like her sexual desires hadn’t been fulfilled in a decade. Her hand moved to my bicep, and she kissed me like she never wanted me to stop, as if she’d been sucked in a black hole and she couldn’t get out.
I wanted to keep this going, but since it led nowhere, it was just torture. It was meant to be a sexy goodbye, but then it turned into a fortune-telling, a tale of what could be if she came home with me. I ended the kiss abruptly then stood up. “I’ll be thinking of you tonight—as I know you’ll be thinking of me.” I walked away from the bar and headed out the door into the warm summer air. The sun had been gone for hours, but the heat from the rays remained behind. I walked to the edge of the window but stopped to turn around, to see if she would save my card or toss it.
She picked up the card and stared at it for a long time, her fingertips resting against her lips like she couldn’t believe that kiss had just happened. She stared at the skull for a long time and probably noticed there was no name written anywhere. It just had my phone number and “The Underground” on it. She opened her clutch and slipped it inside.
I smiled to myself