“I have to admit…” I start, running my tongue between my lips as I lower my gaze, looking straight at my glass as I swirl the wine inside. “I wasn’t expecting for you to, hm, be wearing a thong.”

“Oh,” he says, and I can’t help but feel bad for what I just said. I just had to bring it up again. Why the hell can’t I forget about that… mishap? “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be better today,” he continues, and I feel as if a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe that thong thing was just a hiccup in what might turn to be a good thing? I sure hope so.

“Great,” I reply, looking straight into his eyes and smiling back at him. I take the glass to my lips and take a little sip, allowing the oaky wine to coat my tongue. “I was actually enjoying what we were doing last time…” I tell him, my heart picking up the pace as his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“I noticed,” he whispers, going up to his feet and closing the distance between the two of us; sitting down by my side, he places one hand softly on my knee, and I tremble slightly as I feel the warmth of his fingers. “And you’ll enjoy it today, I’m sure of that…”

“You’re pretty confident,” I chuckle, and he takes a while to reply. He just looks at my lips, almost as if he’s imagining their flavor, and only then does he continue to speak.

“I feel sexy today,” he laughs, his fingers now brushing against the hemline of my dress. “Not as sexy as you are, though.”

“Oh, stop it,” I laugh, although I’m appreciating every word that comes out of his mouth. He might have a weird preference when it comes to underwear (at least that last time), but he sure knows how to warm up a woman. In fact, I think I’m about to give him another chance.

Things went well during dinner, as he was his usual charming self, and now that we’re sharing a bottle of wine at the hotel’s bar… Well, things are looking up, I’d say. And when I say ‘things are looking up’, what I mean is that I’m about to invite him up, and that quite literally. You see, I called the W Hotel in advance and booked a room.

Just in case, sure, but my forward thinking is about to pay its dues.

“What do you say we take it upstairs?” I tell him, my heart starting to pick up the pace.

“Do you want me to go and get a room?” he proposes, and I just grin at him.

“No need.”

“Oh,” he whispers, grinning back at me. “That was smart of you.” Going up to his feet, he offers me his hand and I take it. We walk arm-in-arm out of the bar and head straight to the elevator; there, I press the button that’ll take us to the top floor and the doors close in on us.

This time he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for waiting. The moment the doors close, he turns to me and pushes me back against the wall. Our mouths find their ways to each other, and we surrender to a frenzied kiss, our tongues running circles around one another.

Oh, screw the room.

Reacting on instinct, I throw my hand to the side and hit the red STOP button over the panel. The elevator halts to a stop in a matter of seconds, and I don’t hesitate; I place my hands on his chest, and this time I’m the one pushing him back against the wall. Then, I lower myself slowly, my eyes never leaving his.

When my knees finally touch the floor, my thong is so wet that I can feel it sticking it to my skin. Oh, I can’t wait to be inside a room with him… But, for now, I want my appetizer served right here and right now.

I start reaching for his pants when I stop, my hand hovering over his pants. Do I really want to be doing this? After all, Freeway isn’t my first choice… If I could choose, Kirk would be the one in here with me.

Maybe I should.

In fact, I definitely should stop.

But what the hell; Kirk hasn’t texted or called after he left that morning, and I sure as hell am not going to wait till the planets align for my shot at love. Kirk isn’t here now, but Freeway is… And I’m going to make the best out of it.

Laying my fingers on his belt, I run them over the leather and I only stop when I feel the cold metal of his buckle. Pursing my lips, I hold my breath and unbuckle it; slowly, I start pulling the zipper down and –

Oh.

My.

God.

Oh, not again.

This time he isn’t just wearing a thong. No, he has matching lace stockings as well. And they look expensive; he definitely had to shop around for something like this.

They’re lace. Black stockings.

With fucking garter belts.

I shiver. Some part of my brain is wondering where he bought them. But I shut it down.

I can’t believe this is happening. Not again.

“Don’t I look sexy?” he asks me, and when I look into his eyes I can no longer see the charming man that was sweeping me off my feet. All I see is someone with a fetish that overpowers everything else.

Let’s get one thing straight, this isn’t about the fact that he’s wearing lingerie. Sure, it’s definitely weird, but what’s really weird is that he simply can’t help it. Even though he knew his thong freaked me out the last time we were together, he simply doubled down on a losing strategy.

Ok, I need to get out of here.

Jumping up to my feet, I press the OPEN button repeatedly, suddenly feeling short of breath.

“What’s wrong? I’ve put it on just for you,” he says, but I’m no longer hearing him.

The moment the doors slide open, I start running.