I agree. We really don’t need no fucking drinks. But I was just stalling for time. I grabbed some random wine from the ice bucket sitting on the hard wood and pulled it closer. "You shouldn’t sound so cocky yet." I said coolly, glancing at her briefly.
She laughed, stalking closer to snake her arm around mine, her fingers possessively digging into my biceps through my shirt. "Oh, I know you’re a beast in bed, my love. And that’s why those sluts keep making you stay in their houses."
Smoothly, I replied. "That’s what you choose to believe. Remember when I told you in a text that you made a fucking mistake?" My hand tipped dark red wine into two glasses, slowly, while quietly waiting for her to fall into my trap like a predator lurking in the shadows.
She laughed smoothly, "Oh? About that blonde slut? The only mistake I made was not cutting the gas pumps after disabling the brakes. But I was in a hurry, and I left out that crucial part."