It’s time for taxis.
“It’s been the best night ever!” Nat sings as I herd them like sheep to the line of cabs. She throws her arms into the air and swishes her hair. “And I fucking love my new hair! Do you love my new hair?” She looks to Micky, who now has a wilting Lizzy in a headlock.
“I fucking love your new hair,” he agrees, hiccupping.
“I think it makes you look older,” Lizzy chimes in on a slur.
“Sophisticated!” Nat screeches indignantly. “Eh, Annie?”
“Sophisticated,” I confirm on a laugh. “In you get!” I order, pulling open the door of a waiting cab and guiding them in one by one. Surprisingly, no one trips up the step, but they do all land in their seats with a thud. The taxi man looks at me, his years of experience telling him that I’m the one he needs to communicate with.
“Evening,” I say as I bend to get in, but as I lift my foot from the curb something catches my attention across the road. I straighten my body to look over the roof of the cab as heat creeps through my veins, making my blood pound its way to my heart until it’s racing. If I ever lay eyes on you again, Annie, I can’t promise I’ll do what’s best and walk away next time.
He’s standing on the other side of the road, his hands resting lightly in the pockets of his jeans. And he’s staring across at me, intensity in his gray eyes shining bright, even from across the street. My stomach begins to fill with butterflies.
“C’mon, Annie!” Micky yells, reaching for my hand that’s resting on the door. “Get in!”
The rest of the group starts chanting, possibly telling me to get in the cab, too, but I can’t hear them. Nor can I hear the rush of traffic as it zooms by; the cars passing between me and Jack are just a blur.
I don’t know what to do. Get in the cab—the sensible option—or shut the door and send my friends on their way—the stupid option. I’m not stupid. Never have been.
He looks like a statue, frozen into position. He’s waiting for me to decide, our eyes never unlocking. Then he nods, so very mildly I nearly miss it. He can see my inner conflict. He’s silently willing me to remain where I am, because despite what he said, I could be the one to walk away. To make the decision for both of us.
The choice is down to me. Whether it’s the right decision for both of us is unknown. But right and wrong aren’t featuring in my mind. It’s too consumed by him.
I shift my grip on the door, ready to shut it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, guys,” I say, not looking at them.
“Huh?” they all call in unison, but I ignore them and turn to the cabbie, reeling off their addresses. But my eyes remain focused on Jack across the road. I slam the door, hearing my friends’ confused mumbles, but the driver pulls away before they can protest further. There’s no question that any one of them would leave me alone on a night out, but the alcohol is in my favor tonight. I look to the back of the cab as it drives off, seeing Lizzy looking out the back window, her confusion evident. Then her eyes cast to the other side of the road and her mouth drops open. I just catch the sight of her straight lips before the cab takes a corner.
My phone rings two seconds later. I don’t answer it, but I do send a text, telling her that I’m fine and I know what I’m doing. It’s a lie. I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m doing.
I look up through my lashes to Jack. There’s a road between us—him standing on one curb, me on the other, cars whizzing on by between us. And when he steps into the road, having a quick check for traffic, I start backing up as he comes closer, until my back’s pressed into a brick wall. My breathing is shot to bits and my body is trembling like a flame in the breeze.
When he reaches me, both of his palms land on the wall on either side of my head. I’m staring at his neck, afraid to lift my eyes to his face now that he’s this close. “Why didn’t I carry on walking home?” he asks, his frustration clear and present. “Why the fuck didn’t I just carry on walking?”
Because you felt it, too, I scream in my head, feeling dizzy from the intoxicating smell of him—his closeness, the light skim of his groin across my dress.
His hard stare drills holes into me as his face slowly lowers toward mine. I hold my breath and let him brush his lips lightly over mine, our eyes still open and locked. My breath stutters, as does his. Then he pulls away a few inches, his tongue running across his bottom lip, as if tasting what he’s just had. His chest forces against mine from his deep inhale. “Tell me to go,” he whispers, the demand licking its way from the base to the top of my spine. “Tell me.”
“Go.”
“Not a fucking chance.” He swoops in and takes my mouth as if he owns it—deeply, passionately, and with an unfathomable conviction. I’m immediately lost in a haze of want and lust as he grinds into me. Our tongues duel, our bodies press together, and it’s beyond any level of pleasure I thought possible.
I bring my arms up to circle his neck, holding him while we kiss like we might never get the opportunity to do this again. One of his big palms slides onto the back of my thigh and tugs, bringing my leg to his waist. I’m inhaling his groans, swallowing them down into the deepest parts of me, whimpering each time he circles his hips into mine, forcing me harder to the wall.
Holy fucking shit, I’m lost.
“I need more than this,” he says desperately, working his lips to my ear and licking the shell slowly, panting hard. “I need you naked. I need to be inside you. I need you fucking now. Where do you live?”
His question gives me a moment’s pause. I’m as desperate for all of that as he is, but I still have a tiny scrap of sensibility within me somewhere. No way am I taking him to my place. I still have to be wise.
This isn’t me. I’m not reckless, but right now, halting this is impossible. It might be the spontaneity; it might be how illicit this feels; it might be the thrill factor, the danger and the unknown. Or it might just be something as simple as intoxicating chemistry. I don’t know, but I want more.
“Your place,” I counter, nuzzling into his neck, feeling him shake his head.
“I can’t wait that long.” He pulls away from me, leaving me a shaky mess held against the wall. “Hotel.”
I nod, thinking that’s best all round. Mutual ground. He wastes no time, sliding his hand to my lower back and putting some weight behind it. I manage to pry myself from the bricks with his support, but my legs are still quivering beyond my control as we walk urgently down the street. I look at him discreetly out of the corner of my eye, finding him focused forward, his jaw tense. And I definitely detect his trembling beyond mine. We’re both wound up like tightly coiled springs, dying to let loose on each other. It’s new to me—odd and thrilling.