“Pretty sure there are seven if you include that little alcove over there, and that doesn’t include the bathrooms—” He slaps a hand over my mouth. My eyes flare with surprise, my mouth still pursed mid-word, and he freezes. He grumbles something under his breath as he tears his hand away, but not before it drags over my lower lip. His skin is hot and salty against my wet flesh. His throat bobs as he glares down at the bar top. “So violent,” I whisper in awe.
