Slapping the same person twice in the span of four days was not something Keira made a habit of.
Heck, she did not ever slap a person before.
Nate, it seemed, made quite an impression on her. After all, he just broke the record and made Keira do something she never imagined she would ever do in her entire life.
By the scene in front of her hazy eyes, Keira also found out that the men in black following Nate around had never seen a spectacle like that.
"How dare you!" barked one of the men in black.
If Keira weren't quite as drunk, she'd notice the man with the green tie coming at her with an intent to kill. She would be no match for his muscular body and heavily frowning face. The fists by his side were not detected by her either.
However, before the man with the green tie could touch her, someone had already stopped him.
"Leave," Nate said, maybe almost growling, but Keira didn't care.
She didn't like the fact that he was treating her as if she were his thing. As if she was his. So, instead of feeling relieved that the fist would not come to her any time soon – or at all – Keira snapped again at Nate. "Don't interrupt my fight!"
Nate, ever handsome and smiling playfully, merely raised his elegant eyebrow. He didn't appear shaken by her slap. Heck, he didn't even show any sign of surprise. Not a flinch, not a hand raised to cup his slowly reddening cheek.
Perhaps because it was the second time receiving her mighty slap. Practice makes perfect, was the saying suitable for it.
"You can fight me anytime you want," Nate leered at her, "I prefer it if it happens on a bed, though. My bed. But, your's is fine too. But I have to tell you, I can't show you many positions if we do it in your crappy bed."
It took several seconds for Keira's buzzed mind to understand what Nate was saying. "Pervert!"
It was such a relief that the men in black had already retreated from there, following Nate's order right away. If not, then she would have to smack each of their faces. She wasn't sure she'd deliver a satisfying attack again after giving it her all to slap Nate.
"You're drunk," Nate stated.
"No shit, Sherlock."
She felt his eyes everywhere. Roaming her face, then to her sweater-covered chest, and down to her washed khakis and worn brown shoes. He looked up again, and Keira was suddenly aware that she could feel the chilly conditioned air caressing her face. She meant her reddish birthmark occupying her right cheek, usually hidden behind her pretty long bangs.
"Don't you dare stare at me!"
"Why not? I like staring at you."
"No! You can't! You're not allowed!"
"Well, I'll just keep staring at you. How would you stop me anyway?"
Keira hummed, forgetting that she had just high-five him on the face a minute ago for something so grave. To her sober self, of course. This time, however, no sober self behind the steering wheel. This buzz in her head was making her thoughts jump around. "I'll kick you."
"Yeah? How would you kick me if you're almost toppling to the floor any second now?"
"Hic!" Keira looked at the innocent floor. All shiny and pretty. Like a marble of a kingdom's palace, she read about in a book. Somewhere. "I won't fall to the floor."
"No, I won't let you. But, will you fall for me?"
Nate was looking down at her. Those brilliant brown eyes peered from under long lashes. If she was focusing on his eyes alone, Keira thought he was pretty. Beautiful. But, with those straight noses and sharp jaws and kissable lips, handsome would be an insufficient word to describe him. Should she call him gorgeous in her mind now?
Shaking her head, Keira tried to banish that thought away. But, as her mind was also being totally honest without a sensible filter, it was getting harder the longer Nate decided to gaze at her that way.
Like he was ready to eat her.
And not in the cannibalism way either.
He took a step until their faces were mere inches apart. He was crowding her. Definitely far too close, and it would only take him leaning down to touch her lips.
"You look like you want to kiss me," Nate whispered. Hot breath caressed her imperfect cheek, making it feel like three folds more than it should.
However, the last thread of Keira's rational mind resisted. "Careful, Mr Charming Smile." She jabbed her index finger on his chest again, somehow noticing how hard it was under those fancy three-piece suits of his. "A slip and it will be 'kill', instead of 'kiss.'"
"I'll take that as a challenge, then," he breathed on her skin. Damn well near her neck, right on her pulsing point that seemed to throb happily when he was so near, bursting in her personal bubble. Sober Keira wouldn't like this. Her sloshed self, on the other hand, was feeling adventurous.
"Would you?" Keira wet her lips, mirroring the way Nate's tongue darted out and swept his lips. She could almost taste him.
And why wouldn't she?
Nate was leaning down to her, while his big hand nad long, talented fingers burned on her jaw, guiding her towards–
Blaaaargh!
Someone grabbed her shoulder, and something gooey landed on her.
Precisely, it splattered on her fairly new sweater vest and washed khakis. The disgust was enough to make sober Keira peek through her hazy eyes and buzzed mind.
"Why are you puking on me, Hyde?!"
But that was the last thing she remembered.
For the next thing she knew, Keira woke up on the most comfortable bed, in an unfamiliar room, and cradled in the arms of a gorgeous man she crowned as the most annoying library patron of the week – year!
"You're awake."
Nate's lips were on her bare shoulder. Planting small kisses that made something stir in the pit of her stomach. Her heart pounded like crazy.
"Let's bring our fifth round to the bathtub. I'll show you my linguistic skills. And by that I mean, the thing I do with my mouth and tongue."
Keira shot up and punched him as hard as she could in the face.