the trick is to keep breathing

It had been a perfect night. Unlike most of the women he’s dated before, this one obviously prefers to be wined and dined before giving in, which isn’t so bad really. There should be more women like her, at least that’s what Rude is always bitching about when some broad tries to get in his pants before he even opens the car door for her.

She was fascinated by the menu at the restaurant. The lobsters in the tank nearly sent her away screaming and then the movie afterward had really thrown her for a loop. He was glad he hadn’t taken her to the 3-D theater – that would have really kept him from getting laid tonight. Speaking of, he’s got her against the door and she’s playing hard to get – letting him kiss her cheeks but not allowing him access to her mouth.

“Why are you being so hasty with me?” she remarks, holding on to the lapels of his jacket.

He nuzzles her neck, smelling the sweet perfume Rufus himself had picked out for her, the bastard. “Hasty? I think not. I call this methodical if anything, sweetheart.”

She purrs a bit when he darts out his tongue to tickle her ear. “If you say so.” After a few more minutes paying attention to everything but her mouth, she finally grants him permission. She tastes like the fruity drink he’d bought her at the bar after the movie, like tart berries and a twist of lime.

It’s all going very well. Very well. She’s got her hands in his hair, and he wonders if he should call her out on being the hasty one now. His cell buzzes in his pocket, and he groans.

“Reno!” She shoves him away quickly, a look of horror crossing her face. “What…what is…?”

Oh for the love of…

“It’s not what you’re thinking, alright?” He takes the phone from his pocket. Rude. The son of a bitch. Flinging the phone onto the couch, he turns back to her, but the moment’s gone. Damn it.