The girl was gone.

Rolling the plastic die in the crook of his hand, Jesse’s gaze rested on the cocoa skinned beauty tending bar in Roxanne’s absence. Her deltoids flexed as she shook the ice and liquid in the shaker. She uncapped it to pour the watermelon colored liquid in a dainty martini glass and glanced across the bar at him.

Jesse focused on his book. A discussion of poetry and prose. Always the English teacher. It was a beautiful book, one his fingers had tattered the edges of over the years.

Roxanne would love it.

“She off today.” The bartender stood above him, fist propped on her hip.

He looked up, trying to ignore the sweeping hourglass figure outlined in her black shorts and tank top. “Thanks.”

The woman blew out a sigh and slid into the booth across from him. She hooked her fingers around his sweating water glass and slid it to her side of the table. It rumbled over the tile table in protest until her full lips closed around the straw and sucked half the liquid down.

Freeing the plastic tube from her pillowy mouth, her throat rippled as she swallowed. “You too old for her. She’s twenty-four.”

He took a deep breath. Put a placeholder in the book and slid it into his shoulder bag. Cupping the breast of his wine glass, he lifted it to his mouth. Sipped. Glanced up to see her watching him.

“All right, look. You seem nice.” She sat back, crossing her arms. “But she been through a lot and is still goin’ through it. Don’t waste your time.”

Jesse swallowed, his teeth grinding as he focused on being calm. The glass managed to rest on the tabletop without clattering. “Wasting my time.”

Her dark eyes seemed to try to drill into him.

“I’ll come back later.”

“Drop her, man. I am serious. She gotta get her shit together before she’ll be good for anyone. I am not just sayin’ this, you hear me?”

“We all have problems.”

The bartender rolled her eyes, her ‘fro shaking with her head. The noise level of the restaurant seemed to escalate with her silence as she surveyed the place.

“Thank you for your service. It was wonderful as always.” Jesse took out his wallet, placing a few bills on the table.

She looked at them. “Don’t take it like that.”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“You a teacher, right? Roxie said that. That girl is obsessed with books. You should see how many she goes through. Got a new one every day. You just don’t even know.”

He felt his lips curl through the stress of his face and turned his attention to his shoulder bag.

“Maybe you do know. That what you two talk about? Books?”

“It was nice to speak with you.”

She lurched across the table, slapping her palm down against the back of his hand. “Roxie married. You seen her ring? Come on, I know you have.”

The memory of the thin, tarnished silver band on her slender fingers haunted him. She’d never seemed attached to it, never seemed attached to anyone. Said she was divorced.

“I heard she told you she wasn’t married. Why do you think she still wears that ring?”

“She hasn’t worn it in a month.”

Her long, pink nails dragged over his hand. Slid over the tiles as she backed down. The booth sighed under her. “You did notice.”

“Yeah.” His lips quirked. “Were you telling me this for my benefit or hers?”

“Shit, both.” She rolled her eyes and took another pull from the straw. “You know everything between her and her husband?”

“It isn’t my place.”

Her face tilted to one side, her wide eyes blinking. “Whatchu mean, it’s not your place? She’s sitting here, talking to you every time you come in, making you think she’s interested, and it ain’t your business? I’d want to know everything about the guy hollerin' at me.”

Jesse forced his smile downward. “It’s up to her how much she wants to tell me.”

“No. See, that’s how you get fucked up. You need to know this shit,” she tapped her finger against her temple, “to understand what’s really going on. Work smart, not hard. Don’t get surprised.”

Roxanne had been nothing but a surprise. Tattoos sleeved her willowy arms, feminine muscles gracing her skin. Capable, but fragile. Knowing and not, but wanting to. Wanting to know everything. It was unnerving, but attracted him all the same.

He’d found a random die in his classroom, months ago, and rolled it to decide what to do for dinner.  Evens he'd go home, odds he'd come to this restaurant.  It'd changed his entire meaningless existence.

“What you should be asking yourself is why ain’t she here.”

“Shouldn’t I ask you?”

Her lips parted slightly and she looked down, fingers sliding through the condensation of the pint glass of water. “Probably shouldn’t tell you she pressing charges against her husband. Divorcing his ass too.”

“Why? What charges?”

“He use'ta hit her. You know, they been together since they in high school. People kids then. They don’t grow up together, they jus’ grow apart.”

Jesse took a deep breath. Swallowed. His skin felt numb, his brain like nothing but white space.

Hit her.

She met his gaze again. “Don’t hurt her, Teach. She’s kinda... she got some problems. Don’t go there, that’s my advice.”

With another quick sip of his water, the bartender left his table. He stared at the tile under the cup, its colors melting together.

Don’t go there. Probably good advice.

****

“What’d you tell him?” Roxie cornered Aisha next to the dumpster in the back of the restaurant the next day.

“You shoulda told him the truth.”

“What’d you say?

Aisha flicked her cigarette, white flakes floating down to her black Sketchers. “Nothin’. Just told him you divorcing yo’ husband. That he hurt you. Maybe I said he should leave you alone.”

“Why?”

“He old enough to be your father. That shit don’t fly.”

Roxie jammed her hands into her coat. “You had no right to say anything to him. I wouldn’t say anything personal about you to Peanut if he walked in.”

“Oh, Peanut know he got a crazy bitch. That crazy motherfucker. But he knows this bitch gets down.” Her friend bent over and bounced her ass up and down, watching her over her shoulder as she backed up on her. “Know what I’m sayin’? Know what I’m sayin?”

“Fuck, Aisha. Shut up.” Laughter sprang from Roxie’s body, echoing around the little gated smoker’s area in the back of the grill. She clapped a hand against her chest, shaking her head.

The other bartender straightened. “Why you want to ruin that old guy’s life with your shit anyhow? Ya know I love you, but that is too much for someone like him. You’ll break him. You know this.”

“I don’t know.” Roxie sighed. “He’s just... different. There’s something about him.”

“He’s quiet. That is all. Don’t get ‘dreamy white girl’ on me.” Aisha took a long drag from her cigarette before tossing it in a puddle. The flame sizzled dark.

“He’s intelligent. Kind.”

The other girl rolled her eyes and stalked over to the back door. “And there you go.”

****

Jesse settled into the uncomfortable booth.  Slipped his hand inside his shoulder bag to pull out a thin, tattered book and started reading. As always, he got lost in the words, pulled and threaded together by two people so different and pinned with affection. It never ceased to ease him. Every break and pause, every description of life.

It reminded him of her.

“Hi.”

The seat across from him sighed with the drop of her body. His eyes fixated on the tattoos sleeving her arms. He used to think they were beautiful, that anything adorning her body would be gorgeous by default. Now he was sure they’d hidden her bruises well .

She cleared her throat, making him meet her dark eyes.

“Hey, hot stuff. Come here often?” Her lips spread, dimples sinking into her cheeks. As if she didn’t battle a terrible past. Like she wanted to cover it all with a grin.

Okay. We can do this.

“Two glasses pinot noir, please.”

“Two?” Her smile faded as she glanced at the door.

“One for you, if you please.”

“Oh.”

He grinned, closing the book he was no longer paying attention to. Ran his hands over the polished backing. The soft edges.

“Someone told me you liked to read.”

“Those filthy rumors.” She clasped her hands on the table, her smile creasing the corners of her eyes.

“Yes. Those.” Jesse’s fingers rapped on the thin book before sliding it across the table to her. “You like stories and poetry. This is one of my favorites. It uses both.”

The shadow between her collarbones seemed to deepen as she looked down. Her hand rested on the paperback. Fingered the creases. “You’ve read this a lot.”

“Yes.”

Roxanne’s dark eyes met his gaze again.

“There’s something human... peaceful, inside. It’s a beautiful piece of work.”

“If you’re giving it to me, I know it is.”

He wasn’t trembling, but it felt like something inside him was. Scraping his knuckles over his stubbled jaw, he leaned back. “Your friend talked to me the other day.”

“She told me.” She pulled the book to her lap and stared at it.

What is she thinking? 

Jesse wanted to take her home, to talk to her away from her job, away from all the distractions. His arms ticked, needing to wrap around her and pull her close to him. To smell her hair and wander the delicate curves of her young body. He rested his hands in his lap.

“Hope none of what she said was a deal breaker.”

“For what?”

“For everything I want you to do to me.” A smile flickered over her lips before she stowed it behind her teeth.

Fuck. Clearing his throat, his hands drifted to adjust his crotch. Why does she do this to me?

There was nothing not to love about women, all women. God knew he’d had his share. More than his share, probably. Sometimes with meaning, sometimes not. He’d long given up on the prospect of life-affirming love and settled for respect instead.

But her...

She looked up, dimples winking at him.

What is it about her?

Being a professor, he’d had easy access to younger women throughout his years. Had the musicians and artists. Anyone who’d seemed to contrast the norm. But it had never been like this. Though they weren’t usually as forward as Roxanne.

Which, it seemed, should be contradictory to being a battered woman.

“I’ll get you that wine. Might have to drink it all yourself, though, if management is watching.” She stood, smoothing her clothes with her free hand. Met his eyes again. “Actually, I might like that. Then I can take advantage of you.”

“Thought you wanted me to take advantage of you.”

Her eyebrows rose. She blinked.

The words hung between them, his dick growing harder. Fuck, did I really just say that?

Nostrils flaring, Roxanne inhaled. Her nail beds went white, pressing his thin book against her stomach. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Do you want me to ask? Or do you just want me to take you?”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His pulse blazed through his body with every beat. All these people around them, and all he could see was her. The others' low murmurs only drowned out his reservations. His cock pushed against the restraint of his jeans, begging him to prop her up on the table and drive into her warm pussy.

“Jesse...” A flush swept her cheeks and flooded the shells of her ears. She swallowed.

“God, Roxanne.” Reaching out, he curled his fingers around her smooth forearm to tug her closer. “I shouldn’t want the things I want from you.”

“Why?”

The word was like a broken breeze from her petaled lips. Watching them tremble with her breath, calm spread through his veins. He forced himself to breathe deeper. Slower. To ignore the rapid strumming of his heart and the heat of his cock.

No. It was too close to her divorce, to whatever had shattered inside her. I don’t know what this is. But it’s not just a fuck. Not with her.

Loosening his grip, he slid his hand up her arm. He stood, making her take a step backward. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have been that crass with you.”

“Crass?” Her eyes fluttered.

He grabbed his bag. “Forget the wine. Maybe another time.”

“You can’t just leave.”

Jesse tightened his grip on the handle. Allowed himself a glance at the hint of cleavage from his new vantage point. His gaze swept up her collarbones. Her slender neck. The parted lips he longed to experience.  Fingers caressing the edges of the book he'd given her.  

“The book is beautiful, Roxanne. Like you.”

When he turned away it was as if he were turning his back on the only heaven he’d ever be allowed to have. Each step felt wooden, farther and farther away from warmth, until he pushed through the windowed double doors and into the arms of winter.

****
 

I’m turning into a fucking psycho.  Roxie smoothed the unwrinkled scrap of paper with Jesse’s name and cell phone number.  Who does this shit?  I'm like one of those crazy chicks in Lifetime movies.

Jesse's teacher profile on the university’s page included his cell phone number.  In the age of internet stalkers and scam artists, he should know better.  But it was endearing that he was so open to helping his students.  She never had a teacher like that.

“Fuck.”  

She ran a hand through her long brown hair, her fleece pajama pants catching her eye.  Pink, with a bunch of little hearts dotting them.

So mature.  He wouldn’t waste his time on me if he saw me in this.

Aisha had bagged on her over her clothes for days after she’d moved in.  She wasn’t feminine enough. She needed big girl lingerie. But she’d tried that with Lance. Tried everything she could think of. Nothing got better. Everything, especially his drinking, had gotten worse and worse.

Neither of them had come from decent families.  Neither had graduated high school. It wasn’t something that had worried either one of them at first, but Lance couldn’t see the future.  He could only see the past, and pigeon holed himself into it until he hated himself and wanted everyone else to hate him too.

It’d worked.  She stayed with him when he hit her the first time.  Left after the second. Didn't need to end up a statistic.

Why am I thinking about Lance right now?  Jesse is nothing like him. God. He’s so smart.  So...beautiful.

She stared at the wall, fingers knotting in the hair at her crown.  “Beautiful? What the fuck?”

Since when is a man beautiful?

She shook her head.  But between his quiet voice and his war with manners, there was something about his soul that seemed to flow into her and breathe from her pores in every waking moment.  His knowledge and love of the written word, his patience with things and people that challenged his existence.

Like Aisha.  He’d handled her without showing out, without dimming any ounce of his integrity.  

The words he’d spoken to her the night before were testament to his nasty side.  He wasn’t perfect. That fact and that experience had only made her want him more.  With a fire she wasn’t used to.

Roxie clenched her legs, squeezing her clit and exploding pleasure and ache throughout her pussy.  “Fuck.”

Grabbing the cell from her nightstand, she unlocked it and headed to the message screen.  Typed in the numbers, highlighted the body section, and stared.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

Her finger hit send out of habit, sending the message floating to the upper part of the screen.  “Jesse.  It’s Roxanne.”  

“Oh, shit.”

After a few seconds, the screen dimmed.  She tapped it to lighten it again.

An ellipses icon appeared below her words.

She felt her eyes widen.  Her fingers held the phone like it was an exploding device, eyes fixated on the sluggish reply.  Dot. Dot. Dot. The little icon died away. A second passed.

“I only know of one Roxanne.”

“Jesse.”  His name flooded her with warmth as she lay back onto the bed and crooked her feet on the side.  

“What’s she like?  Bet she’s a real catch.”

A smile filled her face as those ellipses popped up again.  Disappeared.

“I’m not sure if she knows how amazing she is.  But she is resourceful, among other things.  :-)”

She let out a breath.  He didn’t think she was weird for having his number.  

Her thumbs brushed across the screen before moving to the letters.  “How would she get your number, though?  What a freak. Unless you’re interested in her.”

“Excuse me for asking, but if you’re Roxanne, I need proof.  She’s quite a woman, and we’ve talked about many things.”

Not so clueless.  She took a deep breath and turned on her side.  

“You told me you shouldn’t want the things you want from me.”  She hit send and waited, sucking in and expelling shaky breaths.  Nothing. “What do you want to do to me?”

Message delivered.  Read. Nothing. Then an explosion of ellipses, which retreated.  The phone dimmed.

“Come on.”

The screen lit in her hand, an unknown number at the forefront.  She frantically patted the bed until hearing the crinkle of paper.  Her hand closed around it and pulled it to her face.

Same number.

Thumbing the green answer bar to the side, she dropped the paper.  Put the phone to her ear.

Seconds passed.

“You’re supposed to say, ‘hello.’”  

Jesse’s deep voice was unmistakeable.  Every inflection wet her pussy more. All she could do was breathe.

“Talk or I will hang up.”

“Don’t hang up.”  

Silence plagued her ears.  Only the heater hummed.

“How did you get this number?”

“Your teacher website.”

He made a delectable noise in his throat.  “Oh?”

“Yeah.  You should be more careful.  Psychos might call you.”

“Telemarketers, students, and beautiful bartenders?”

Roxanne stared at the popcorn ceiling and smiled.  “I hear the bartenders are the weirdest ones around.”

“Not weird.  Different somehow.  You are, anyway.” The answer deepened his voice.  Static wrestled the background. “I never expected you.  Not there. Not on my phone. Not constantly in my mind.”

Goosebumps travelled her flesh.

“Who are you?”  His deep voice dwindled.  “How do you affect me like this?”

She swallowed.  “How do I affect you?”

It was as if her world balanced on the axis of his answer.  The seconds trembled into the dark night, growing longer and quieter until bursting with his exhale.

“I don’t know...I found this die in my classroom on the floor next to my desk and I’d been wanting to do something different.  The idea hit me to just go out for a glass of wine after work. Be with people, and yet not. But it just seemed so bizarre, a guy hanging out by himself at a bar.  I rolled the die.  Evens I'd go home.  Odds I'd go out. You were simply on my way home.” He took a breath. “A roll of the die found you.

“It’s been a long time since I believed in fate, Roxanne.  But a little cube with some engraved dots told me to do something I hadn’t done.  Then you walked up to that tacky little table and my world changed.”

“So did mine.”  

Her voice sounded far away.  Pulling the covers over her body, she closed her eyes.  Drifted from the little apartment and all her real world problems.  The sound of his breathing, his voice on the other line anchored her soul.

“Why me?  You’re young, beautiful, smart.  You could have anyone you wanted.  Out of everyone that notices you every day, you noticed me.”

Her lips moved, but failed to make words.  Licking them, she took a deep breath. “Maybe we shouldn’t question how it happened.  Just be content that it did.”

“Do you feel the world break away around us too?”

“Yes.”  Roxie dipped under her waistband to cup her burning pussy, as if her cold hand would put the fire out.

“God.”  

Silence stretched through the airwaves.  

“Jesse?” she whispered.

“I’m here.”

Rolling to her side, she tightened the blanket around her.  “Can we finally have a date?”

****

When he thought of Roxanne, his dick shot up like a rocket.  Thick, long, desperate to be inside her and paint her with cum. It wasn’t what she deserved, but he supposed he could keep his hands off her enough for dinner.  Then drop her off at home again like a gentleman.

She hadn’t liked the idea of going “someplace nice.”  It’d made her feel uncomfortable. Against his better judgement, he brought her to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant a few blocks from her apartment.  Sizzles and shouts from the kitchen filled the air, warring only with the sound of Latin music.

Roxanne’s face flushed from the spicy salsa.  Catching an escaped drop at the corner of her mouth, she giggled.

That sound.  He smiled, taking in her joy.  There is nothing like this.

“Have some!”

He shook his head.  “It might give me an ulcer.”

“Oh, be quiet.  It might aggravate an ulcer, but it won’t single handedly give you one.  Try it!”

Looking at the smudge on the corner of her mouth, he knew exactly how he wanted to try it.  He licked his lips. Took a deep breath and reached for a chip.

The salsa exploded on his tongue. Sweat beaded his cheeks. He swallowed, managing to get it down before the jalapeno hit the back of his throat.  Throat seizing up, he coughed until his eyes watered.

A dragging sound made him look up.  Roxanne had pushed the last half of her water across the table to him.  Her slender eyebrows knitted together.

“Drink this.”  

He did as he was told, sucking through the straw until it gurgled air.  The glass freezing his hand, he turned his head to the side to clear his throat.

“Sorry.”

Wincing, he met her gaze.  “Why are you sorry?”

“I just...”  She motioned to the salsa.  “You said no and I pushed you.”

He cleared his throat again and shook his head.  “I should know better.”

Biting her lower lip, she lifted another chip.  Broke it off into smaller and smaller pieces and nibbled at it.  

Jesse took another sip of water.  “Are you shy now?”

“No.  Should I be?”  Dimples teased her cheeks and her gaze met his again.

“I hope not.  I wonder if I’m shy enough for the both of us.”

“You aren’t that shy.  Who’s the man that gave me the option to ask for sex or to just take me?”

Fuck.  His cock was ready in one pulse.  What would it be like to run my fingers through that fine hair?  To kiss her temple, the flesh behind her ear. To taste her mouth.  To spread her legs before me and feel her fuck my tongue?

Her dark eyes didn’t waver.

Jesse leaned over the table.  “Do you want me to just take you, Roxanne?  Do you want me to do it hard or soft? You deserve to be treated like the beautiful spirit you are, but I find myself in a rage to fuck you half the time.”

Those petaled lips parted, her gaze dropping to his mouth.  “Oh.”

“Oh.”  His voice sounded grainy.  

He spied the waiter walking toward them with their food.  Clearing his throat, he leaned back. The waiter uttered pleasantries.  Jesse thanked him and waited until the man left to meet Roxie’s gaze again.

“Sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”  He gritted his teeth.  

“Then don’t hold back from me.  I want to know what you feel.”

The heat from the plate steamed his skin as he looked across the table at her.  “You deserve more than that.”

“I deserve the truth.  It’s all I’m asking for.  I just want to know you. Good parts, bad parts, and the dirty parts.”  Her tongue slid through the slit between her lips, swiping over them before disappearing again.  “It’s not like I don’t have desires of my own.”

Jesse’s cock flexed.  “You keep this up and we’ll never eat this fucking dinner.”

“Fine by me.”  Those dimples cleaved into her cheeks again.

Do those dimples flex when she sucks cock?  When that tongue slides down the shaft, curls around my head?  His staff was insistent against the strain of his jeans.

“Stop.”  The word came out like a croak.  “You’re going to fucking shatter me.”

Her chest rose with her inhale.  She dropped back in her seat and looked at her food as if noticing it for the first time.  Jesse picked up the rolled napkin, shakily flicking open the paper binder.

“Sorry.  I’ve been bad.  Maybe you should spank me.”

His fork clattered to the plate.  Stilling it with his palm, his nostrils flared.  He looked up at her.

Roxanne’s eyebrows rose.  

The image of her naked over his lap, her breasts brushing his legs and her naked ass presented to him, nearly made him tow her out of the restaurant and fuck her into next week.  

Breathe, Jesse.  

He looked at her neck, her prominent clavicles and the little hollow where they joined.  Remembered what the other bartender had said about Roxanne’s ex. His violent past, and hers as the victim.

Blinking, he pursed his lips.  Picked up his fork. “Eat.”

Was she serious or was that a joke?  Is some part of her twisted by her past and longing to be slapped around?  Does she think she deserves to be abused?

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“What are you thinking?”

Shaking his head, he met her eyes.  “I’m thinking we need to get to know each other more before we talk like that.  I’m thinking we need to eat dinner.”

Biting her lip, she nodded.  Looked down at her plate and pushed the refried beans around with her fork.  

“And I’m thinking about how goddamn beautiful you are all the time.  Like you’ve got a direct line to the pulse of life.”

Her eyes pressed shut.  When she opened them again, a smile crept over her lips.  “Okay. I’m sorry I went too far. Again. It’s a gift.”

He laughed, earning a wide smile from her just before she brought a forkful of beans to her lips and pulled it out clean.  His cock throbbed. Don’t think it, Jesse.  Say something else.

“So. Are you in college?”

Those petite shoulders sank.  Shaking her head, she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.  Then resumed picking at her food.

“Never an interest?”

Roxanne swallowed.  The little muscles between her eyebrows moved, her mouth turning downward at either side.  Her eyes focused on her plate. “I haven’t officially graduated high school yet.”

“You...”  His gaze swept over her slight figure.  The white of skin where her wedding band had been.  

She’s a bartender.  Married and divorced.  Lives on her own. Of age, no question.

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

“You want the real reason or the one I give everyone?”

“Real.”

Jesse stared at the knit of her eyebrows, willing her to look at him.  She didn’t. Pulling together the sides of his burrito, he leaned over the table and took a bite.  Never took his eyes off of her.

“It wasn’t for me.”

The words didn’t make sense.  He chewed. Swallowed. “No one likes high school.  You just get through it to get on with your life.”

“I don’t do things I don’t want to do.”  Her voice was quieter. “Everyone’s fine with that except when it comes to my education on paper.  Which is ridiculous, because if you agree with the idea, you should back it a hundred percent. Not give in to preconceived notions.”

He opened his mouth, just to shut it again and look down at his food.  She shouldn’t be forced to do things she doesn’t want to do.

The idea fit, but she was right.  The was world shaped so that you had to have education to achieve anything.  It was the foundation of his own job. It ran the world.

That doesn’t mean it has to be that way.

“You read.”

“I do.”

“You educate yourself.  On your own terms.”

She pressed her lips together, her dimples winking.  “Exactly.”

“You’re an interesting woman, Roxanne.”  He felt his cheeks bunch in a smile.

“I have my moments.”  Her lashes lifted like curtains to show her dark eyes.  “I’m glad you appreciate that.”

“Trust me.  I’m very appreciative.”

“Careful.  You talk like that and I’m liable to start talking about other things too.”  

They smiled at each other and gradually began to wear down their plates.  She sucked down a margarita. He stuck with water, not wanting to lose his already unstable control.  

Roxanne was enchanting.  Her giggles. Jokes. How she’d needle him a little, then slip in an innuendo.  By the time they arrived back at her apartment, he had no doubts of a future with her.  Whichever future she’d allow him to have.

“Come in.”  She laid her hand over his on the gear stick.  “Aisha’s at her boyfriend’s for the night. We’ll have the apartment to ourselves.”  

The skin of his hand seemed to breathe in the heat of her body.  Flicking the headlights on low and the car into park, he threaded his fingers through hers.  She folded them around his hand like a tenuous lock and smiled.

“You’re not coming up, are you?”

Jesse chuckled.  “It’s not because I don’t want to.”

“It’s because you’re a nice guy, then?”

“No.”  Turning, he cupped the side of her smooth face, thumbed the dent of her dimples.  “It’s because I’m trying really hard to pretend to be one.”

Roxanne heaved a little sigh.  “I knew you’d be frustrating.”

He let his hand slide off her face, only to have his wrist caught in her thin grasp.

“You’re planning on walking me to my door, aren’t you?”

His gaze went to her mouth, then glanced behind him at her apartment.  That had been the plan.

“Not happening.”  

She dragged his hand to her chest, resting it on her breast.  Her nipple poked at the fabric, rising to his touch along with his dick.  He squeezed the supple flesh as she leaned forward and stroked the side of his face.

“If you walk me to my door I’m going to fuck you.”  Her voice was soft but clear.

“Jesus.”

“So kiss me here.”