It doesn’t take long for Keats to recognize our setting, and for an inexplicable reason, our flared tempers seem to flatten and disappear. Instead, we stand in silence. He crosses his arms over his chest, and I nibble my bottom lip. Neither one of us is moving our feet. We’re near unwavering.
What were we even talking about? It isn’t helped by thefact that we are both staring at two mailboxes to ensure our eyes don’t meet.
“Want to open a bottle of bad bourbon?” I ask in a monotone because the past few minutes of bickering are now history.
“Yes,” he replies bluntly. “Should we fuck this out?”
“Yes.”
“Do I get to yank your hair and spank you if needed?” He’s very serious.
“Obviously, yes.” I’m serious too as we don’t stare at one another.
“Any special requests?”
I turn my head to him. “Why yes. Stop cross-examining me, and let’s get inside.”
He’s satisfied with my words.
We don’t say anything as we totter to my house and up the steps. The man even leans against the door as I unlock it, clearly confident enough to be comfortable.
When inside, I don’t even bother to look at him as I nearly dart to the kitchen, open my cupboard, and pull out a bottle of bourbon. It’s only when I look around my kitchen island that I finally have the vision of Keats, again in my home.
He’s relaxed on the couch, with his feet on the coffee table as he leans back with his arms behind his head. If I wasn’t on a mission to get tipsier, I would laugh. The man is all suits during the day, but he unwinds when it involves a woman with a potential for no talk.
Reaching the couch, I knock his legs off with my knee and plant my feet down in front of Keats, with my eyes alluring as I unscrew the cap of the bottle.
“No glasses?” His eyes stake me with a hint of playfulness as the corner of his mouth tugs.
“Nope,” I respond sharply and then take a swig of bourbon.
Offering it to him, he grimaces and eagerly takes the bottle, ensuring his eyes pin mine. One swallow and I give up on trying to hold up the pretense of having a drink.
Slowly, I crawl on top of him and only stop when my thighs are firmly squared to his waist as I straddle him and lift my body slightly. A sly smirk lifts my lips, and with purpose, I snatch the bottle back and drink a sip, well aware that my mouth around the bottle is making him crazy.
“We don’t need glasses,” I clarify in a raspy voice. “And no, don’t add that to the list of why you need to show meconsequences,”I mock.
That match inside of me strikes with an overriding need to take control of our dynamic. I’m taking the wheel tonight. As I bring the bottle to his lips, he drinks what I offer with our sight remaining chained to one another.
“Open again,” I request, and when he listens, I lift the bottle higher to pour from above into his mouth, quickly slamming my lips down onto his to taste the alcohol, sucking the liquid from his mouth to drink. Because Keats is on the same wavelength as me, he doesn’t hesitate, and his fingers fist the hair on the back of my head to yank me back slightly.
With his free hand, he grabs the bottle and pulls my head back enough for him to pour a few drops onto the slope of my neck, instantly trickling down my skin. Keats’s tongue darts out to lick my body, and it takes all my power to keep my pussy clenched, as he just sent a rocket to my clit.
“Of course you like to get wet around me.” His face turns menacing right before he paints my lips with the rim of the bottle, leaving a trail of alcohol.
He crashes his mouth down on mine, and I’m thankfulthat the thoughts of grabbing glasses never once filled my mind.
My hips roll in a wave on top of his shaft that is straining to break free from under his jeans.
Clasping the bottom of my dress, I swiftly peel it up until I’m left in my bra and panties. I work fast, tugging and pulling his shirt until it’s off.
We still for a second, and I realize that Keats is surveying me, enamored, and stars burst inside me from the way he sears me with his eyes.
“You wear lace and liquor well.” His hands drop to splay against the bottom of my spine as he tips me back gently, his lips sweeping up where the drops of liquid stop, and it leads him straight to the edge of my bra cups.
His fervent need and his five o’clock shadow rubbing against my skin bring out a small breathy yelp from me as my entire body tingles. Keats licks until he switches to his teeth, grazing my cleavage and placing delicate kisses.
I’m desperate for more. I straighten my body and sit up for more stability. His eyes gleam with curiosity as I take control of the situation. Slithering down his naked chest, I blindly search for the bottle that at some point was placed on the floor. Once found, I bring it just high enough above him and drizzle a few drops over his chest.
