Daisy
The rain was still falling hard when we stumbled out of the club.
We didn’t speak the entire ride back to his place. The Uber driver kept glancing at us in the rearview mirror, but we didn’t care. My hand was on his thigh the whole time, fingers digging into the muscle through his pants. His hand rested high on my bare leg, his thumb stroking slow, dangerous circles under the hem of my short black dress. Every touch sent heat racing straight between my legs.
The second the front door closed behind us, he had me against it.
His mouth crashed into mine like he’d been starving for months. The kiss was messy and desperate, tongues sliding hot and deep. I tasted the whisky he’d been drinking all night — dark, smoky, intoxicating. He tasted like sin. My fingers twisted into his shirt a
