At that "wouldn't," Amber's heart skipped a beat. Rejection. She'd assumed too much and blown her chance. In that split-second she believed she'd messed it up, her mind supplied: it's okay, there are other people here, all of them dreaming of someone like you. You can make up for it. Though that was what ran through her head, she was still overheated with hurt and embarrassment.
But Eric's hold on hers hip clenched, as if he wanted to take her up on that offer. She flushed again, this time with arousal. She laughed, partially from relief but mostly because it was funny, when Eric mentioned the waiter interrupting them. "I'd make him regret it, if he did," she promised, ablaze again with confidence. She shouldn't have let herself be so disappointed with a mere rejection.
He tried to kiss her, and as much as she wanted to give in, Amber didn't allow for more than a simple brush of their lips. She wanted to draw this out; make him desperate. It was harder to resist rocking against him, molding herself against him and finding their perfect fit. For a few intoxicating moments Amber couldn't keep herself from indulging both him and her, growing wetter with each slide against Eric. There was building up excitement, and then there was pointless frustration. She was reaching the latter.
Amber pecked him on the cheek before pulling her body away, her hands gliding down from his shoulders to hold his hands. "Then we'll make it last. C'mon, there's a good bottle of wine waiting for us, let's drink and tell stories we never would sober."
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But Eric's hold on hers hip clenched, as if he wanted to take her up on that offer. She flushed again, this time with arousal. She laughed, partially from relief but mostly because it was funny, when Eric mentioned the waiter interrupting them. "I'd make him regret it, if he did," she promised, ablaze again with confidence. She shouldn't have let herself be so disappointed with a mere rejection.
He tried to kiss her, and as much as she wanted to give in, Amber didn't allow for more than a simple brush of their lips. She wanted to draw this out; make him desperate. It was harder to resist rocking against him, molding herself against him and finding their perfect fit. For a few intoxicating moments Amber couldn't keep herself from indulging both him and her, growing wetter with each slide against Eric. There was building up excitement, and then there was pointless frustration. She was reaching the latter.
Amber pecked him on the cheek before pulling her body away, her hands gliding down from his shoulders to hold his hands. "Then we'll make it last. C'mon, there's a good bottle of wine waiting for us, let's drink and tell stories we never would sober."