After
paying the bill over Elizabeth’s objections, they walked back to
her car. Marty smiled again, wondering what kind of luck rained down
on him that she’d parked a good block and a half from the happy
hour bar, so they were unlikely to encounter coworkers. She hit the
remote and the car beeped, but she didn’t get in immediately,
instead turning and leaning on the door.
“I
had a great time.”
Marty’s
grin got even wider. He’d break his face at this rate. “Me too.
Thanks for asking me to dinner.”
“Thanks
for paying, even though you really didn’t have to do that.”
“I
wanted to.” And he’d do it again and again for the chance to know
her better.
She
looked up at him from underneath her lashes and he remembered reading
in a Maxim magazine on the plane a few months ago that when a girl
did that she wanted him to kiss her. Did she want him to kiss her?
Did he want to kiss her? Hell yeah, he did.
He
bent his head very slowly and gauged her reaction. She didn’t cover
her mouth or knee him in the gonads, which he took for a good sign.
By the time he brushed his lips over hers his pulse pounded and he
hoped his eagerness didn’t, um, display itself too much. She leaned
into the kiss and he took it deeper, licking over the seam of her
lips and pulling her into him by her hips. Elizabeth’s arms crept
around his neck and he felt her go up on tiptoe as her mouth opened
for him. A little moan escaped her and he wanted so badly to push her
against the car and have his way with her, but didn’t want to scare
her either. With reluctance he backed away.
Elizabeth’s
lips were swollen from his kisses and her round, firm tits heaved. He
needed to get the hell out of there before he took things faster than
he’d intended.
AUTHOR BIO:
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