He had been wanting to do this for a long time, a very long time. Why did it take him so long to realize this simple fact? Smeth nuzzled the small spot between her neck and shoulder. Perhaps when he woke up tomorrow, he would regret what he had done immediately and wished to jump in front of a train for shame... but he didn't think he would. At least, that was what his intoxicated-brain was telling him. That this right, that the formerly move-less Hippocrates Smethwyck was pulling all the right moves.
Don't get him wrong. He was intoxicated, yes, but he had the feeling that said intoxication was wearing off. Or something like that. He felt himself coming to his senses, but this felt too good. This felt too perfect.
And although the helpful numb of the mystery drink had helped him immensely, it wouldn't do him good to just run off, would it?
No, for this night, he had to either go hard or go home.
So he chose to go hard.
He gently turned Rachel around and kissed her. The kiss was soft, sweet, but insistent, telling her that all he needed, all he wanted, was her.
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