And I wanted to prove it with this guy, who was still looking at me like he wanted to spread me out on the bar and do wonderful terrible things to me.
I was pretty sure no one had ever looked at me like that before.
My throat was so tight with desire and anticipation that I couldn’t speak.
His hand came up again, cupped my cheek and slid around the back of my head, fingers thrusting into my hair. He leaned down and kissed me. His mouth was warm and his tongue licked peach off mine. I moaned.
He threw a couple of twenties on the bar and pulled me off my stool.
I remembered Capria’s safety advice. “Give me your phone.”
He handed it over without question. He’d done this before. A hundred times, for all I knew.
I snapped his photo, texted it to Capria. “So if they find my body in a ditch the police artist has something to work with.”
I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but he bent to kiss me again, so fiercely I lost my breath.
We made it only as far as the alley before he had me pressed between brick and his body.