One Night Stand

Chapter 2

Chapter 2The Ladies' toilet is empty when I walk in, though had there been a queue it would've been a good enough excuse to take my time coming back to the bar.

While smoothing down my hair with my fingers in front of the mirror, I can't help wondering why he hangs out with those guys. When they came up to us, I really got the impression he dislikes both of them. I lean in closer, wiping off tiny bits of eyeliner that have made their way outside my lash line.

I'm relieved to find a c****m dispenser on the wall next to the sinks and load it up with all the coins I have. It's best to be prepared, just in case.

The door opens and two girls stagger in, giggling and supporting each other by the arm. I catch the closing door as they pass me and sneak up to the corner from where I get a view of the bar. It seems that the coast is now clear. I guess creepy man and sidekick wandered off looking for more potential victims.

Luckily my seat is still unoccupied, or perhaps George held it for me. I feel a tad less nervous walking up to him and the unmistakable beat of my boots on wood is now more rousing than intimidating.

"So, where were we..." I say.

Climbing back onto my stool, I lean on one elbow and face him. If this is me attempting to look laid back, I don't think it's working. With both feet dangling high above the floor like a toddler in a high chair, looking cool is an impossibility.

He looks over at me, the relief evident in his eyes.

"I'm sorry about that, especially Steve, he can be a bit of a knob at times."

"That's okay. Was it that obvious that I was running away?" My eyes are drawn to his lips, watching him reciprocate my smile.

"A bit, yeah, you had me worried for a bit that you weren't just avoiding him. Well, glad you came back anyway," he says.

"Of course I came back," I say, "just wanted to time it so I'd get you to myself again."

We're back to staring at each other. I wonder why he hasn't made a move, asked any personal questions. The way he's looking at me does suggest he is interested.

Finally I reach out for my glass which is still sitting there and start sliding it back and forth on the wooden counter causing the half-melted ice cubes in it to clink together.

"So, George... are you local?" I look up, catching his gaze once more.

It doesn't seem like he ever looked away.

"Sort of, just came in for a few drinks after work before heading home. I live near Heathrow. You?"

"Not really, I live in Reading and I'm only in town for one night, a business trip of sorts." I pause, wondering if I should clarify.

"I booked a hotel to save me the late journey home. It's only a short walk from here actually."

"Alright," he says.

Really, that's all? Subtle hints don't appear to be enough to convey my intentions for tonight.

Between the exchanged looks, the small talk continues for a little while longer. George is a programmer apparently, such a coincidence we both work in IT.

I give him my card with my contact details, scribbling on it to add my mobile number, but resist the temptation to go into more detail. After all, I came in here to escape work, not discuss it.

He studies the card, fidgeting with it for a short while before looking back at me.

"How about you, seeing anyone?" he asks.

Finally.

"Not for a while, no." I smile at him, waiting for a reaction.

He is interested, it's written all over his face. But why is he still making me work for it?

Inside my chest a confusing combined feeling of relief and nerves has built up. The tension between us feels strong, almost too intimidating.

I bite my lip and look down, underneath his half open shirt I can just about see a black tee with a familiar looking band logo printed across the front.

"Say..." I lean towards him and push one side of his shirt out of the way. Just being so close to him and nearly touching his chest with my fingertips is making my heart skip way too many beats at once.

"Blind Guardian? What a coincidence, I love them!" I exclaim, nearly breathless.

It's impossible for me to contain my excitement and so I ramble on about my favourite songs and asking about his. Must be the nerves talking. He doesn't say much at all beyond naming a few titles and remarking how brilliant they were live.

Clearly preoccupied with staring at my fingers which are still holding onto his shirt, he stops talking again. I'm equally lost for words.

Time seems to move in slow motion when his hand finds my wrist, and pulls me closer towards him. Our faces move closer together until he finally looks up at me again.

His eyes look almost black in the subdued light and we're now so near that I can feel his breath tickling my face. His scent is pleasant, like a rather masculine sort of cologne with a hint of beer mixed in. The effects of the few drinks I've had already are making it hard for me to focus but I know what I want, and I desperately hope he does too.

"You're making it very difficult for me to resist..." he says.

I see the same nerves I feel mirrored in his eyes momentarily. But instead of acting on them, he continues to stare deep into my soul.

"That was the idea..." I breathe.

Both of us are ready to go where our instincts might take us, still my mind plays tricks on me by announcing his i***t friends' return. I can hear the creepy one even if I don't know or care what he's saying. It's making me want to run and hide again, away from all interruptions.

He releases my wrist so I can I run both hands up his shoulders and around his neck. I hardly need to make any effort to get him to come closer, he already stood up right in front of me.

George is quite a bit taller than he looked sitting down. With me still perched on my bar stool and him standing, I can reach him perfectly. I run my fingers through his ponytail while our lips meet.

His arms find their way naturally around my back. The world around us disappears, taking any unwelcome other people away with it. My legs part as far as they'll go in this skirt to allow him closer. If his lips are anything to go by, he is the gentler type definitely. Or perhaps he just likes to start off that way.

Meanwhile I crave more than the teasing kisses he is planting on my lips, I tilt my head slightly. My arm is firmly wrapped around his neck now, my whole body completely giving in to his embrace. Encouraged, his lips part, as do mine. His beard feels ticklish against my face, an extra stimulus to drive me insane.

A jolt passes through me when our tongues meet. I thought I'd had butterflies in my stomach before, but nothing I've felt before could prepare me for what he's doing to me now. Hungrily I accept him into my mouth; caressing, l*****g and tasting him. The room is spinning around me but his arms keep me steady.

He pulls back only slightly, upon opening my eyes I see his, burning with l**t.

"You taste divine," he whispers.

I rest my forehead against his and tug at his bottom lip with my teeth.

"Let's go..." I say.