of restraint

Because I’m attracted to you.

You’re still glaring at him in disbelief when he leans forward, bringing his face closer to yours, almost touching it. You’re heady with desire and the smell of his cologne. You’re worried your head might explode.

You don’t know how to react, and feel like you should punch him in the face for hitting on you, so you do. He’s taken aback. Wow. I was expecting more like a kiss or something. Your heart is pounding, but your hand is surprisingly steady.

Stop being so cocky, you pompous ass! You squelch your immediate, overwhelming desire to throw your drink in his face. Considering that he owns this place, it would be so weird to make a scene.

You’re still for what seems like an eternity. None of you speaks. Soon, you can see his face turn purple where you hit him. You get up and walk away.

You’re halfway across the lounge when you realize that you want nothing more than to taste that arrogant mouth.

But you keep walking.

 

There’s more to this story.

Here’s how it started. I met him on the highway, and because we knew we were never going to see each other again, we flirted like crazy. But I couldn’t have been more wrong, obviously. I met him again at my favorite spot in town. What a coincidence! And then there was the dancing. So HOT. As is the case with all things exciting, things went awry, at least for me. I think it’s finally over, our little game. It makes me sad that the chase is over, but such is life!