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He couldn’t deny that he was the enjoying it. He couldn’t even begin to formulate a lie saying that he didn’t like the fact that her legs were in touching distance. He had thought about how easy it would be to slide his hand up her shin, over her knee, and under the fabric of that emerald dress. His eyes too, hazed for the effect of the alcohol, lingered to at the v neck of the top. Not to deep of a plunge it just managed to show the rise of her bosom but not in a provocative way. Everything about her was sexy but not provocative. The curve of her lip was demure but insatiable. The curve of her hip was alluring but sweet. He wanted to move his hand up, but he resisted. He wanted to trace the fabric of her dress down the v neck, but he refused. He was simply basking in their closeness and thrilled that he was even this close. It was like a little win just to have her comfortable to touch him. Was the alcohol helping? No doubt. But let’s not burst his bubble. He was pumped at the idea of asking. He was thinking it through for flaws but the alcohol was prohibiting him from seeing any. It was the perfect plan. She spoke and he listened (as he always listened) before reaching out and tabbing her nose. “but wont we be MORE comfortable knowing that Elijah isn’t going to bust in and kill us?!” His smile never faltered. “Come on! Up ya go, Elf!” |