She laughed.
“… to make me do what? I dunno. Nor do I care, where do I sign up?”
“You’re funny—” She took a sip of her cocktail and gazed at him, expectantly, through her long eyelashes.
“Jeremy. Jeremy Lewis.”
“You’re funny, Jeremy Lewis,” she repeated, as Jeremy took a long pull from his bottle, keeping his eye on her at all times. “I mean, you’re utterly inappropriate, and shameless, but you’re funny.” She eyed him critically as though evaluating him.
Is this what women feel like when they’re being blatantly stared at by men? 'Cause while it’s kinda hot, it’s also ever so slightly uncomfortable.
He held his hands open by his side and spun around slowly, pausing with his back to her, and shaking his butt a little before continuing to turn back around to face her, grinning as he did. “And you’re definitely attractive,” she practically purred with an approving nod.
“Thanks. I’ll take that,” Jeremy replied, picking up his bottle and tilting the mouth towards her in salute. “Attractive,” he repeated. “So, what’s a mermaid like you, doing in a place like this, eh—” he asked casually, pausing for her to tell him her name. He didn’t know what her magical power was, but he didn’t want to stop talking to her. He had all but forgotten he was supposed to be meeting his friends.
Witchcraft, maybe?
She laughed again and shoved him playfully, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them even further.
“Jessica,” she answered, breathily.
Everything about this woman seemed mysterious and mystical, from her glittering ice-colored eyes, to her long, flowing curls, and from the way she talked to the lightness of her laugh. If she’d started to fly right there in front of him Jeremy wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
“And I’m not a mermaid.”
“Can I buy you another drink, Jessica?” he offered, hopefully.
“No, thank you. I’m good.” she answered, running the tip of her index finger around the rim of her empty cocktail glass. As she leaned towards him, he could smell the caramel apple cocktail on her breath and the smell of lime from her skin, or hair, he wasn’t quite sure.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, boldly, and still hopeful. His body buzzed with excitement and anticipation. He knew precisely what he wanted to do to this woman and all other plans for the evening seemed to evaporate against the potential of auburn hair and caramel apple kisses.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she mumbled, reaching her long fingers out and grabbing the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him towards her.
Damnit, I am a complete sucker for a strong woman who knows what she wants. Caramel apple kisses indeed, he thought as their lips collided. It was a gentle but telling kiss, he could feel her desire for more between them and hoped she’d feel how much he wanted her, too, as he slid his hand around her waist and pulled her towards him. She linked her arms behind his head and played with his hair as their kiss intensified.
“I came to see where you got to, but I can see you got waylaid by someone waaay prettier than us.” The unmistakable twang of Blake’s amused voice broke the beautiful, siren’s spell.
“Oh, I’m certainly hoping to get laid,” she answered Blake without missing a beat, as she pulled back from Jeremy’s mouth and turned to answer the intrusion head-on.
And I’m the shameless one?
Jeremy chuckled. “What can I say, man? When a beautiful woman wants you to take her to bed…” He shrugged and spread his hands in a ‘what’s a guy to do?’ kind of motion.
“Actually I’m taking you to bed,” she interjected.
“So much for dicks before chicks, man,” Blake joked. “Safe flight tomorrow, and I’ll catch you in the new year, yeah?” He hugged Jeremy. “Actually, stay safe tonight, too.” He winked suggestively and left as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving Jeremy grinning sheepishly, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair.
“Sorry about that.”
“No strings,” she answered, arching her eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, no strings,” she repeated, clearly amused at his confusion.
Are you shitting me right now? This beautiful woman wants me to take her to bed with no expectation of being wooed? He glanced behind him, half expecting that he was being punked.
“You’re not used to being propositioned like this, are you?”