I rolled my shoulders to appear as relaxed and non-confrontational as possible. "I'm just going to call a taxi."
"Taxi service is terrible here." Her frown was getting deeper which was the wrong reaction.
“I really am sorry, you know.” I ran my fingers over the side of her mouth, trying to coax a smile out of her.
“Me too.” She tucked her face into my hand, almost like one of those kittens a few of us had found near a forward operating base in a ditch, abandoned by their mother. Those tiny things had been hesitant at first, but with a little milk and a tender touch had tottered on their little legs after us, always seeking one last pet. We’d given those kittens away to local kids.
“You going to drive me home, or am I going to have to hoof it?” We’d been beating around that bush, and I figured I should just come out and ask.
“I actually live near here.” She gestured to the west of us but I didn’t care where she lived, only that I was hearing her right. “Would you like some coffee?”
Coffee. Shit yeah, I did. “Ordinarily I don’t go home for coffee after a night at the bar but yeah, with you, I’d like that.”
“I’ve never had anyone home for coffee except, well, Will.”
Will, her dead husband and fallen soldier. I pushed that image out of my mind. She was here with me and I still remembered the feeling of her shuddering in my arms. This time I wanted the trembling to happen when I was inside of her. I wanted to feel the shake of her body when I licked her pussy and the clench of her tight channel when I thrust into her. No one else would be there but her and me. “Lead the way,” I said. “I’m thirsty.”
She flushed slightly, waved to her friends and boldly took my hand, leading me down the dark alley with piss poor lighting behind the bar. I took a mental note to mention to Adam tomorrow that his old man needed better, safer lighting for the staff. Sam hit her key fob and the lights to an expensive European SUV blinked on and off.
"Nice wheels,” I said. "You take this off-roading?” This vehicle was more my style than Bo’s tiny sports car would ever be.
“Never," she said. "It was my mom's. I got it when I graduated from high school. It's actually pretty old."
"Still nice."
We chitchatted about cars and she knew surprisingly quite a bit about her own vehicle.
“I can even change my own tires,” she said proudly after I’d teased her about knowing how much horsepower her Rover had.
“That’s impossible,” I mocked. “No girl knows how to do that.”
“Whatever,” she flicked her palm toward me. “My dad taught me because…” She trailed off.
“Because?”
“I’ve been alone for a long time.”
The specter of why she’d been alone formed between us but if she was going to ignore it, then I was too, because I wanted this girl. We’d started something in that hallway and I was too stubborn to give up on whatever she had in mind for me. Plus, I had stuff to show her too. I’d made her those promises and I always, always delivered on my promises.
The trip to Sam’s place took only a few minutes. She wasn’t kidding when she said she lived close. It was one of those old brick factory buildings revitalized into lofts. The lighting here was shit too. I shook my head. Placing my hand at the small of her back, I watched the shadows so she didn’t have to. She might be able to change her tire and recite the horsepower on her Rover, but she didn’t watch out for herself like she should.
“Have you lived here long?” I asked as I followed her up the stairs to the second floor of the building.
“Three years,” she replied. “It’s small but mine.”
I may have preferred taller girls, but there was no denying the shapeliness of Sam’s ass as it moved underneath the cotton of her shorts. I remembered what it felt like in my palm—firm but pliable. I clenched my fingers unconsciously at the memory. I couldn’t wait to take a bite out of it. The upside down heart shape was practically taunting me.
Surreptitiously, I reached inside my own shorts and made a small adjustment so my burgeoning wood wouldn’t scare her or cause me unnecessary pain.
“Here we are,” she murmured, throwing open the door to her apartment. I took a quick look around. There was a lamp lit on the far side of the room and a kitchen to my immediate left. I noted the table and the sofa as the only real furniture in the room. Her bedroom was either somewhere else or she slept on the sofa. “Do you, um, want coffee? I mean a real cup?”
I suppressed a smile at her artlessness. This girl was the farthest thing from a cheating, dishonest base wife. The same protective instincts I’d experienced before when she seemed under verbal assault by the blonde came roaring back. Reaching out, I tucked a few of the loose strands of honey blonde hair behind her ear. “No, what’s right in front of me is more than enough.” I rubbed the pad of my thumb across her lush lower lip.