His little hothead leaned forward, and he couldn't help but notice how the fabric of her top pressed taut against her breasts, making them look as if they just might spill over it's edge. He subconsciously leaned forward, chocolate gaze nearly ablaze with a hunger that was barely restrained. He didn't much buy into that good things come to those who wait bullshit either, and he told her so. "There's a lot to be said for instant gratification." He nearly growled.
His gaze was pulled away from her as Angelina and Stan came out, each with a box in tow. As Stan informed them he'd be right with them, he got off his stool. It'd be a damn long ride home, trying to keep his hands off of the tall brunette. If they both hadn't drank as much as they had, he doubted they'd have made it from the parking lot. He slipped an arm around her, fighting not to wince art the pressure at his rib. "C'mon, my little lush." And to Tumbler, he muttered, "I'd have compared you to a bad case of crabs, myself."
Angelina asked if they'd remember the way, and he was glad Stan was driving. Sober, he wouldn't have a problem...but with Tequila swimming in his head, he had a feeling it would be a problem. "Stan-aly, we'll wait by the Renegade. I need fresh air. His english wasn't too good with Stan's name, and it had always been a cause for laughter among the crew.
|