We finished eating, but the tension between us had only grown thicker. As I placed my plate in the sink, she came up behind me, her fingers grazing my arm. When I turned around, she was right there—close enough that I could feel the warmth of her body, close enough that neither of us had to think twice.
I reached for her, and our lips met again. This time, there was no hesitation. It was deeper, hungrier, like we were making up for lost time we never even had. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as she pressed against me.
I let my hands roam, memorizing the curve of her waist, the way her breath hitched when I pulled her closer. She tasted like the wine we had earlier, sweet and intoxicating, and I was getting lost in her.
Then she pulled away, just enough to meet my eyes. A playful smile tugged at her lips. "Where's your room?" she asked, her voice softer, teasing.
I swallowed, my heart pounding. "Down the hall."