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"You're cute," a low voice said, right in his ear, warm breath tickling the side of his face. He turned in her direction and looked directly into the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life, cold and deep like ice floes, lined with smokey grey wings that faded as they swept up and away from the corners. Somewhere in the back of his head he thought I'm in trouble.

"Thanks!" he said, and then that inner voice said say something else you fucking dork. He looked down, eyes travelling over plump red lips, one corner gripped gently between neat white teeth. "I like your shirt," he said. Idiot.

She laughed, a sudden throaty eruption that sent something flipping in his stomach. She looked away for a second, then back to him, meeting his eyes then flicking down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes again. "I bet you think it would look better on your bedroom floor."

Oh, I've fucked it already, he thought, but that knowledge made him braver than he'd ever been before and so he leaned in, put his mouth up to her ear, his nose filling with the scent of something almost but not quite cloyingly sweet, like a memory of candy floss. "Actually, I was thinking it would look better tying your hands above your head," he said.

And that was how he learned that it's actually very easy to pick up a girl in a bar, if she's already decided that you're going to go home with her before you've ever said a word.

* * *

She lived close, just ten minutes away in the black cab they flagged down outside the bar, her stepping into the street and throwing out her arm with smooth confidence, him trailing along behind her, fingers wrapped around hers. He hadn't been in a taxi that wasn't an Uber for over a decade and he was immediately flung back in time to university nights out, to drunkenly stumbling home having tried and failed to find someone to make out with.

In the back of the car he slid across the seat, tried to kiss her, and she pushed him away with a gentle hand on his chest and a smile.

"Wait," she said. She put her head on his shoulder, threw her crossed leg over his. He rested his hand on her bare knee, her skin warm and smooth beneath his fingers, made small circles with the tips of his fingers while she pulled herself tightly against his side. Her breath was hot and soft against the side of his neck and he could already feel himself getting hard at the intimate closeness, the unyielding fabric of his jeans creating an almost uncomfortable tightness. His heart raced in his chest.

Fall out of the taxi door, flash of a gleaming lobby, into a cramped, shuddering lift where they exchanged a chaste kiss. Her lips tasted of strawberry, let his tingling slightly as she pulled away, turned her back on him and pulled his arms around her midsection, cuddling back into him.

Anonymous carpeted corridor, identical doors with small black numbers flashing past on either side, and then her keys in the lock and the door opening into a dim hallway, shoes in lines along the base of each wall. She led him by the hand, skirt swishing temptingly in front of him, kicking off her heels to walk barefoot on the carpet.

"In here," she said, turning to him as she opened the door, backing through it, pulling him in by his shirt.

She sank onto the bed, pulling him with her, and finally she let him kiss her properly, her lips opening beneath his, hot breath in his mouth, soft tongue flicking out to lap against his, running along his teeth. She bit down on his lit, not hard but with enough force to pull a gasp out of him, and she laughed.

"I see how it is," he said, voice barely more than a murmur. He buried his face in her neck, drank in the smell of her, kissing up the curve of her throat. He nipped with his teeth, smiling unseen as she gasped, her hands tightening in his hair. Then the lobe of her ear was between

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