If what’s in his pants is as magnificent as what’s on the outside, I’m going to go to sleep a very happy girl tonight. He’s utterly perfect. Exactly what I need.
Number 134… I mean Mike… hands over his credit card to the bartender, telling him that he’ll have a Jameson neat. I’m surprised, because I didn’t think we’d be staying here long. Idle chitchat, schmoozing, or wooing is not required tonight. Us sleeping together is pretty much a done deal.
Turning to me, Mike sticks out his hand. “Mike… Number 134 at your service, Stella.”
Giving a light laugh, I place my palm against his to shake, but he lifts my hand to his lips to brush a light kiss there. In any other circumstances, it would have been a completely cheesy move, but somehow… Mike owns it, as evidenced by the chills that break out on my arm.
He releases his hold on me, and I rest my arms on the bar. Mike takes the seat next to me, propping one arm on the bar and another on the back of my barstool. Again, under ordinary circumstances, this move would have seemed a little too proprietary for two people that had just met. But given the fact we would be getting vertical—or maybe it would be horizontal, who knows—it seems like a natural move.
“So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” I quip.
Mike chuckles and it’s rich and warm, causing me to immediately lose some of my nervousness. “Well,” he says conspiratorially as he leans in toward me, “I heard there was going to be a stunningly ravishing woman at this bar tonight, and I simply had to come out and try to win her.”
I laugh and take a sip of wine. “I heard about this woman. They say she’s kind of a sure bet, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Grinning at me, Mike reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. It’s an intimate move and one that I find myself very much enjoying. He looks at me, his lips pursed in amusement. “I have to say. I’m beyond pleased with our match. Your picture had me entranced, but it really didn’t do you justice.”
“You did hear the part where I said I was a sure bet, right? No need to spout compliments. I’m sleeping with you tonight,” I tell him with a return grin.
“Yet, I felt compelled to give it to you all the same. I’m the kind of man that sort of just speaks his mind.”
“I like that. In fact,” I say, my voice just a tad lower as I lean in toward him, “what exactly is on your mind for tonight?”
It’s so weird how odd this conversation is, yet how natural it feels at the same time. It’s almost liberating… knowing exactly how the night is going to end and doing away with all pretense. I’ve never been a sexually overt person, but tonight—dolled up in my sluttiest dress, with a tiny scrap of lace covering my goods below—knowing that Mike will have his hands all over me soon… Well, it sort of brings out my inner sex kitten.
Mike’s eye’s flare wide over my question, and his smile takes on a more carnal look. He takes the hand that is resting on my barstool and brings it behind my neck, cupping me firmly. Pulling me closer, he leans in, running his lips lightly along my jaw until they are hovering near my ear.
“You want to know what’s on my mind?” he growls, and I nod helplessly.
He places a light kiss below my ear and says, “I’m trying to decide if I want to fuck you in the elevator or wait until we get in the room. Then I’m trying to figure out if I should fuck you missionary or from behind… probably both, and only after I’ve gone down on you. Then it’s always open for debate whether I take you out on the balcony. It’s been a fantasy of mine, you see, and I made sure to reserve a room with a gorgeous view over Central Park tonight.”
My mouth goes dry, and my tongue slips out to swipe at my lips. Mike pulls back and his eyes are burning with lust, causing my skin to tighten and my legs to involuntarily press tightly together. Turning to the bartender, I hold up my hand, signaling that we’re ready for our check, even though Mike hasn’t even received his drink yet.
I’m in the Twilight Zone.