Their drinks having long ago melted into their weakened forms, she stood. She stretched. She sighed. ‘If the world ended tomorrow,’ she wondered aloud, “what would you regret?’
He rose slowly, standing very close. ‘Well, I would regret not having held you in my arms,’ he replied as he slipped one arm around her waist and another behind her shoulder, drawing her even closer. ‘I would regret not having breathed in your scent’, he whispered a he nuzzled up her throat and along her jaw line. ‘Ooh, that’s nice.’ His breath brushed across her skin lighting up a myriad of tiny electric shocks. ‘But most of all, I would regret not kissing you.’ And with that, his mouth was on hers, taking her breath and muffling his own moans.
She gripped his shoulders to stay on her feet. A short eternity later, hearts racing and bodies trembling, he raised his head. ‘Mm. I was right. You taste like a perfect English cup of tea.’ His lips curled. ‘I would have regretted not knowing that.’
‘Yes, well,’ she murmured. ‘We seem to have made quick work of your list.’
‘Oh,’ he chuckled. ‘That was very much the short list.’ His had drifted down the front of her blouse and began parting the buttons from the plackets. She gasped and backed up a step. She brought up a hand to cover his. She looked up into his maddeningly blue eyes. He smiled. ‘If the world ended tomorrow,’ he purred, ‘what would you regret?’
She blinked and drew her hand away. ‘I would regret not having said yes… many, many more times.’