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The bartender whipped up a few potion-less cocktails for us both and disappeared in the back, telling us to press the crystal sitting on the bar if we needed him back.
The paper instructed us to talk alone for a while, and it pleased me to feel only relief when the bartender left. A part of me had wondered if the awkwardness from our last date would bleed into this one.
“I hope you don’t feel pressured when I say this, but…” William twirled the stem of his empty glass between his fingers. “…I can’t stop thinking about our kiss.”
“Yeah, it’s… been on my mind, too,” I said.
My fingers found a loose thread on my dress, and I repressed the urge to pull it and tucked it out of sight instead.
“When they told us how high our compatibility was, I couldn’t believe it,” I added.
“Me neither.” William snorted. “I thought my friends had paid this place off to prank me.”
“Hah. Ditto.” Kira and Allison would have gotten a kick out of that.
William’s eyes misted over and he let go of his glass and straightened up. “Have you really been on the island this whole time? Right under my nose?”
The paper turned red so quickly it almost quivered with the effort.
“I guess that topic of conversation is off the table,” I said. But he asked an interesting question.
Surely people as allegedly compatible as us would have found each other before now?
“What can we do then?” William asked.
I was halfway through drinking my cocktail when I spied his mischievous look over the rim of my glass.
Oh, hell yeah.
I put my drink down and parted my knees at the same time he got off his stool. He slipped between my thighs with a delicious ease, and the moment his hands grasped my hips, a spasm of pleasure rocketed up my spine.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him to my lips.
Our last kiss had been hesitant, but I had shaken any doubt I’d had before I left the room on our last date.
Our lips moved with a certainty that only fuelled any naughty intentions I had dreamed up since our last meeting. Kira’s plan circled my mind like a ravenous vulture.
“Do you think that piece of paper will let me do some really inappropriate things to you?” I asked in between kisses.
William froze, both of us looking at the paper, but it remained white.
Without warning, he dove for my neck, and a small gasp escaped me as he kissed me there. My leg hitched itself up around his hip, and his fingers curled around my knee to keep it there.
My hands slipped under his shirt and roved his body as he kissed up the length of my neck toward my jaw.
The paper trembled on the counter, turning a bright red. William didn’t see with his back to it, and I didn’t want him to know. Why did the paper have to dictate what went on here?
“Are we ready for the next part?” The bartender came out of the back so quickly, I nearly fell off my stool.
William’s grip tightened on my hips as I grasped his shoulders for support.
William cleared his throat as he stepped back, the longing shimmering in his eyes as he sat back down.
“I suppose so,” he said.
“Look at the paper.” The bartender tapped it before whipping out a new, bigger cocktail glass.
I had completely forgotten the last cocktail he made us.
