Last Call

Later, she would think that getting drunk that night had been the turning point of her life.

The week had been long, with one problem after another mounting up until the pile of them was so huge she could barely see over it. By the time Friday rolled around, her only thought was to drink as much as humanly possible. And if she was still feeling out of sorts, she'd drink a little more.

The little black dress she wore might have been designed to showcase her body, long and lean, but the look in her dark blue eyes kept any man who wanted to come up and talk to her at a considerable distance. She'd decided, while she'd washed her long black hair earlier that evening, that she wasn't going to talk to anybody besides the bartender, and him only because it was necessary.

Just because she wanted to be out, didn't mean that she wanted to be out with people.

The night wore on, and she lost track of the number of drinks she had. The bartender, for she hadn't even thought to ask his name, kept them coming steadily, and she had the absent thought to remember to tip him well when the evening was over. By midnight, she was drifting along on that lovely little wave that comes from intoxication, and by the time last call was announced, even she admitted that she was well and truly drunk.

Sighing, she fumbled in her bag for her cell, when a hand closed over hers. Freezing, she glanced up to see that the hand was attached to the bartender, who was watching her out of eyes a deep rich brown. Very sober, very clear eyes. He smiled slowly, and she felt her insides melt a little before catching herself.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not at all. If you need a ride home, I'll be more than willing to help you out. If you're willing to wait long enough for me to close up."

She stared at him, weighing her options. It would be insane to say yes; she knew nothing about this man. For all she knew, he could be a sociopath in disguise. So she was more than a little surprised to hear herself say, "Yes, thank you."

So while he cleaned up, putting away bottles, counting down the drawer, running the credit card reports, and all the other things that needed to be done to shut a business down, she sat in her chair and watched him. And watching him, she felt her blood being to heat in a way that hadn't happened in quite a while.

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the stress of the week. Or perhaps it was him in general--the tall, rangy frame, the slightly long, rakishly tousled dark blonde hair. The efficient grace with which he moved. She rubbed the heel of her palm between her breasts, drew a deep breath. And exhaled it shakily when he hefted a garbage can and she saw the faint ripple of muscle beneath his shirt.

Before too long, he was locking the door behind them, and ushering her to his car. The drive to her house was short, but seemed to take forever. There wasn't much to say, and she had never believed in small talk. If it was small, why bother talking about it all.

When he pulled into her driveway, she was surprised when he shut the car off and came around, opening her door. Her surprise turned to amusement when he walked her to her door, waiting patiently for her to fish her keys out and open the door. Pushing it open slightly, she turned around to thank him.

He moved in with the efficient grace she'd watched earlier, framing her face with his hands and lowered his head to press his lips against hers. They were firm, and warm, and very, very skilled. They moved over hers, gently at first, and then more persuasive, until she moaned softly, raising her hands to clutch at his sides.

They stood on her front steps for long minutes, kissing in the darkness. When he broke the kiss, lifting his head a mere breath from hers, he whispered, "Yes, or no?"

Once again, her head told her to say no. No matter how magnificently the man kissed, he was a stranger. But the blood pounding in her veins, the spinning in her head, the quickness of her breath, all told her to say yes.

Throwing caution to the wind, she listened to her body for once. "Yes."

Kissing her again, more determinedly, he backed her into her house, kicking the door closed behind them. Her purse fell to the floor as she started unbuttoning the shirt he wore, the cotton cool beneath her fingertips. When his hands found the zipper in the back of her dress and pulled it down, she shivered at the cool air that met her skin.

The distance from the door to her bedroom was short. The journey was long, punctuated by falling articles of clothing, the thud of a shoe as it hit the hardwood floor, the gasp she let out when his clever mouth nipped in the hollow of her throat, the moan he couldn't quite hold back when she dug her nails into his back.

They fell onto her bed, and the mood shot from hurried to desperate. She hadn't known she had it in her to need that badly. Her back arched, her hands fisting in his hair when he licked a path down her neck to her breasts. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, she whimpered and begged.

"Please."

He simply moved his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. His own blood was roaring, telling him to hurry, to take. He'd watched her all night, sitting calmly at his bar. She'd looked lonely, he thought. More than lonely, alone. And watching, had wanted.

And now the wanting had turned to need, fierce and undeniable.

When he made his way down her body, stopping at her belly button long enough to lick into it and make her shiver, she shifted under him, restless. The alarm bells went off moments too late. "What--."

And then he shifted lower, licking into her, and she forgot what she had been planning to ask, forgot her name, forgot everything but the swamping wave of pleasure.

She gasped out her pleasure, her hands clenching and unclenching in his hair. Her hips bucked once, twice, before settling back down on the sheets. There was a light sheen of sweat on her skin now, and her heart was hammering like a freight train. Before she could catch her breath, he was driving her back up, higher than the first time, at a pace that would have frightened her if she had had any thoughts in her head.

This time, when she came, she could have sworn that her eyes crossed. Limp and boneless, her hands slid down to lay on the sheets, grasping faintly. She felt him move back up her body, and when he brought his lips back to hers, the taste of herself on his lips was enough to have her blood stirring back to life.

Grasping her leg, he brought it up to wrap around his waist, admiring the smoothness of her skin. Shifting his weight slightly, he slid into her, breathing out a sigh that mingled with her own. She was warm, and wet, and tight. She felt, quite simply, like heaven.

The pace was slow but steady, a rhythm suited for long, lengthy pleasure. He watched her face, knew when she started the climb back up that mountain of pleasure. Knew when she slid over the edge, the way her eyes widened, like it was a rare, and beautiful sensation.

The sounds of sighs and moans filled the room, with the occasional gasp. Although it was a long time, it felt like far too short of one before he felt the changes in his body, the tightening of muscles and the quickening of his blood. Under him, she was going up again, higher than any time before, and he wanted desperately to give her one last burst of passion before he was spent.

And then it happened. It was like reaching for the clouds and finding you could touch the stars instead. It flashed through them both, leaving her stunned and breathless, and him not much better. Collapsing on top of her, he breathed heavily, the air searing his lungs.

Long moments passed before he shifted his weight off her, lying next to her. He was surprised, and pleased, when she turned and curled into him. His hand moved up and down her back, tangling in the long length of hair. Gradually, their breathing returned to normal, and their heartbeats slowed. She spoke first.

"Stay."

When he didn't answer, she tilted her head to look into his face. He smiled slowly, the same smile she'd first seen in the bar, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Yes."