The bathroom is somehow grungier than the rest of the bar – a type of bar I would have never gone to were it not for Jade. She fits in with the rougher crowd here so effortlessly, knows the walk and the talk of the place. She doesn’t even look out of place in the cracked-tile bathroom with a flickering bare bulb.
I feel out of place though, and Jade is eager to distract me. Her mouth is hot on my neck, and I am very willing to let her divert my attention from everything else.
That’s just how Jade is – all-encompassing and impossible to ignore. She has me up against the wall and I’m not thinking about how gross it is that I’m touching the wall, but how much I want her to keep touching me, more and more.
“What do you think?” she murmurs against my skin.
“You take me to the nicest places,” I say, breathy.
She pulls back to look me in the eye, and I take the opportunity to turn us around, her against the wall.
“It suits you,” I say.
Jade smiles and starts to go in for a kiss, but I begin to sink to my knees. The cracked tile floor is cold against my bare skin but all I can feel is the heat from her eyes burning into mine.
She is sweet in my mouth, fingers gentle in my hair. This is the side of Jade I don’t think many people get to see. She is brash and intimidating in an enthralling sort of way out in the world, but here, now, eyes golden dark and melted soft, she is my Jade. My Jade, whose mouth curls in pleasure, not derision, and whose words – “Right there, babe” – are positive and nearly whispered.
Perhaps it is a bit presumptuous, my Jade, but I don’t really care, because I am currently the one making her bite back moans in a filthy-ass bathroom, fingers threaded through my hair. I am the one she pulls up off my knees into a kiss. And I am the one she presses up against the sink, leaving me gasping with her hands up my skirt.
She is my Jade for now, not forever, and from where I’m standing – our hands and mouths all over each other – now is pretty darn good.