“Can I get a drink?”
“A dirty martini?” he asked and stared at me for a bit. The anger in his eyes had disappeared. There was some humor in those mesmerizing green eyes. “Nah, that’s not your type of drink.”
“You know my type of drink?”
He walked around to the other side of the bar, leaned in closer to me and spoke. “I could try to guess.”
“Guess my drink?” I said, unable to come up with any original words because the intensity of his eyes hypnotized me. “I just want a dirty martini.”
“Dirty martini isn’t you.” His warm breath caressed my neck, making me shiver.
Suddenly, I wanted to feel the warmth of his hands all over my body, for that electrical current we created to charge my entire being. I wanted to listen to that spellbinding voice of his all night long.