Page 67 of Succeeding Love

“Why?”

“Because your mouth and mine will be busy with other things the second we get back.”

Her eyes flickered to my lips as she bit her own. Fuck, I didn’t want to wait, but teasing her was too much fun.

One kiss. One more deep, spine-tingling kiss. Then I’d be fine until we got back to the room.

~

Feighlynn

“Two house margaritas on the rocks,” Vin ordered after leading us to the bar. He looked at me for a long few seconds, assessing me, then added, “Actually, make hers a strawberry one.”

“Strawberry?” I giggled. “Why strawberry?”

He shrugged, a true action hero smile on his handsome face as he leaned against the bar. “You look like a strawberry margarita sort of girl. That, and you were staring at the picture of the strawberry one the hardest.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “It was the prettiest.”

He wiped a hand down his face, like he was hiding his smile. “Fuck, you’re adorable.”

He keeps saying that, and I’m believing it more and more.

The margaritas came and were good. Fantastic, but really strong. I was getting warmer and warmer with every sip. Mine was sweet and garnished with two strawberries. I tried to offer one strawberry to Vin, but he shook his head. He waited until I popped one in my mouth, then leaned over to kiss me, sucking the juice off my lips.

My mouth dropped.

Vin smirked, licking his lips. “It tastes better like that.”

My thighs clenched. “Did you have to go to some special training to learn to be that… that….?”

“That what?” He chuckled. “That smooth? That charming?”

“Sexy,” another word vomit slipped out, but the alcohol was making me not care. “My panties can’t handle much more of you.”

He coughed on his drink and adjusted himself on the stool he was sitting on. “Fuck, I don’t know if mine can handle much more, either.”

We teased and flirted some more than we sat and drank. I ended up ordering a second, and then a third margarita, while Vin drank Dos Equis. The bar livened up the later it got, and eventually people started dancing on the small dance floor on the pavilion outside. A live band was playing slow and smooth Spanish music, the deep tremor of the lead singer setting the mood.

It felt romantic. With the lights and the setting of the Riverwalk, and with my action hero date, I felt like I was in a romance movie.

I was mesmerized for a while, feeling tipsy and watching the band and dancing. The people on the dance floor were swaying softly, their heads bowed together as they swung and ground their hips.

“Do you want to dance?” Vin asked me, watching me intently.

“I thought you didn’t dance?”

“I never said that?” He smiled before taking a swig of his beer. “I said I don’t go to clubs and bars. Doesn’t mean I never did.”

“So you can dance?”

He shrugged. “I took ballet.”

I giggled at the reminder. I could just picture this big, hard-muscled ex-soldier in a tutu and tights.

Looking back at the dance floor, seeing those couples moving together, it became harder to picture Vin dancing. Maybe because I couldn’t picture myself out there dancing like that, and I didn’t want to picture him with anyone else.

“I can’t see it,” I tilted my head at him. “You’re so tall and muscly. I can’t picture you dancing like that.”

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