“Your room?” she asks, her eyes half lidded as she bites down into her bottom lip. “Damn right,” I answer her beneath my breath, leaving cash on the bar and then helping her off her stool. Her small hand slips into mine and I lead her towards the elevators, listening to click of her heels and loving how she holds on to our clasped hands with her other, her shoulder brushing against mine as we walk, as if she needs to touch me, needs to have her body close to mine.
