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We’d spent an hour in a coffee shop, which was only strange and stilting for the first fifteen un to think I could excuse an to bloith a series of de too ested a drink, reasoning the longer she stayed out of the hotel, the less chance there’d be of being accosted by the predatory couple It had nothing to do with enjoying et me into bed

Ah, the lies we tell ourselves

She’d been so delightfully flustered at the offer of an afternoon threeso how the scene would play out But when I had, and she’d gripped my ar The sight of her slender fingers pale against the dark cloth ofher delicate wrist So the very fibres oftaut

She’d be so tiny under me So malleable So sweet Yet spirited

Thankfully, by the tied to hts Instinct had won over intellect, and here we are, ensconced at the end of a shared table in a less than salubrious bar off Friday Street Latin arish deco, and crowded banquet tables set out like a school dining hall

“You know, I’ not because of your sense of civic duty but because you think I’m cute”

The way her gaze dips belies her feisty tone While cute isn’t a word I’d ordinarily reach for, lovely had sprung to irl for a drink on his birthday, when the hell can he? And if we happen to find ourselves in the vicinity of a bed so? Happy birthday to me

It’s not like I’ her Yet

“Maybe that’s the reason you ca withwith that couple, anyway?”

“Who? The threesoht they seemed nice And I like old people”

“So, there’s hope for me yet,” Inod and order a couple of single malts

A tiny sh she turns her head to conceal it “I don’t like whisky”

“That’s only because you don’t know better”

“Oh, and you think you knohat’s good for me, do you?”

“I’s I could introduce you to Things you ht assume you won’t enjoy at first”

“Because that wasn’t bri with innuendo, was it?” The colour in her cheeks deepens