Prompted by: AnRo
The crazy author says: I’m having mad withdrawals now that Slim & Izzy are done. No joke. So to NOT make myself feel any better cuz apparently, I enjoy self-inflicted torture, I’m taking a perfectly angsty prompt and turning it into a cute and fluffy little romance scene for ya…
I frown at the Heineken. Disgusting turpentine-type shit right there. “I didn’t order this.”
The bartender smirks and walks away without a word.
“No, I did.”
I shiver at the deep, rumbly, fuck-me-now voice and stare down at my Vodka Martini. Shaken, not stirred. Classy James Bond-type shit right here. “I don’t drink beer.”
“It’s not for you.”
Okay, fine, I’ll bite. “Who’s it for?”
“Me.” He grabs the bottle and takes a swig. “You have a great ass, by the way.”
I try to hold back a grin. I can’t. “That stuff tastes awful.”
“It really does,” another swig, “and you really do.”
Okay, fine, I’ll play along. Might as well since I’m already blushing. Given, it could be the alcohol. “Is that all you noticed?”
“Of course not,” he chuckles. “Only the first thing.”
Yeah, I bet.
“But ass aside, you’re still jaw-droppingly gorgeous.”
It isn’t the alcohol. I’m definitely blushing. Did he actually just say that? “You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Not too bad, huh?”
“How would you know?” he chuckles again.
The sound is even sexier than his voice and damned if my toes don’t curl.
“You haven’t looked at me yet.”
I take a sip of liquid courage. I need it to calm my nerves before confessing, “I’ve been looking all night.”
He’s quiet for a moment.
Is he surprised? Because he shouldn’t be.
I take another sip. I’ll need a refill soon. “I like what I see.”
“What do you like?”
Biting my lip, I reply in a single breath, “The muscles and the tats and the really sexy smile.”
“Is that all you noticed?”
“Of course not.”
“What was the first thing?” he asks.
“Your eyes,” I answer. It’s the truth.
“And the second?”
“Your wheelchair.” Also the truth.
He goes quiet once more.
Is he worried? Because he shouldn’t be.
“Does it bother you?”
I finally pivot around on my barstool. Well, damn, he’s even sexier up close. I meet those insanely blue eyes and smile. “What do you think?”
He smiles back, complete with panty-melting dimples. “I’m guessing not.”
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.