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"When she said this for the first time I had seen the scowl split like an overripe fruit and it's innards showed through in a hideous smile. Seeing that smile made me miss the scowl, it was resentful and at the same time smug and superior, condescending and full of loathe.She looked me square in the eye and I felt a shiver run down my spine as I forced my gaze off her cruel grin. "You aren't her type you know."I blinked, "I beg your pardon?" Debbie, She's not the right girl for you. Just forget about her and go home, I'll tell her that you didn't show up."I could not believe that she was suggesting this, after everything I had done to get Debbie to give me a second chance I wasn't going to run away now, and I told Christy just that."Have it your way," she said, and that uneasy silence reigned again. This time Christy spoke first, but that smile hadn't left her face except for the moment when she had made her absurd suggestion. She looked at the roses in my hand, "Are those for Debbie?. Embarrassingly I have to admit, that, for the first time ever, I lost control. Spectacularly."FOR FUCKS SAKE SHAUN, WILL YOU TAKE ME HOME AND FUCK ME!" I demanded before I realised that the talk at the table (And all the surrounding tables) had stopped. A lot of people were staring at me open mouthed.'OOOPS', as they say.There was not a hole deep enough and dark enough that I could have crawled into at that moment.Embarrassed, Mike turned to Shaun "With a request like that how could you refuse, eh Shaun!"Shaun stared at me, I could not meet his gaze, or anyone else's for that matter. "Yesss, indeed."I knew I was in for it now.Shaun looked from me to Mike "It looks like my little whore is in need of a little exercise." The pair of them laughed.Mike looked back at me "I know I wouldn't refuse." They laughed again.I stared at the drops of warm stale beer on the table, biting my lower lip as I felt one of Shaun's hands slide up my thigh and over the lace top of the stocking. His.
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We crossed the parking lot in long, splashing strides. Without slowing, I pressed the button on my key fob to unlock the car. He laughed as I ducked into the driver's seat, a throaty chuckle that made me wonder what he sounded like as he came. Circling the hood, he opened the passenger door and slipped inside. The downpour sounded marvelously loud in the metal confines of my little car, like a roaring train. My blood felt similarly as it whooshed through my veins; my pulse pounding from the rain and the run and—most especially—the touch. We stared at one another for a few long seconds, until he accepted my silence as acquiescence. I was powerless to move. My body wanted him, ached for his fingers inside it. When he palmed my cheek, I groaned to his touch. He didn't speak, merely leaned across the center console and kissed me—tenderly at first, but quickly growing in urgency. I bit his lips, and he chuckled again. He dropped his hand and grasped the hem of my skirt, tugging it.

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