Stacy smacks his hand away and turns to face him, even as his friends laugh at her surprised look. "Excuse me?!" she says loudly, hoping this will startle him and his friends into moving along, but it doesn't. Surprisingly, he has the nerve to cup Stacy's chin in his hand and answer with the tired cliche "There's no excuse for how hot you are, baby." She swears to herself, she'd laugh if it wasn't so pathetic. She can smell the alcohol on his breath as he leans in to kiss her...Stacy puts your hands to his chest, trying to push him away, but he grabs her arms and pulls her in, his mouth pressing against her sexy thin lips, his alcohol-drenched tongue shoving its way into her mouth, plopping down on top of hers for a sloppy tongue kiss. His friends whoop and laugh, until one of them comes to his senses enough to tell them to quiet down, or store security might come over. But Stacy fearfully realizes that the security guard's gone home for the evening, and her only hope is to scream. She had her career, her befitting significant other, and a nice life in a charming town. Robert stroked his thumb along her jawline, and kissed her again, quickly this time. Megan scooted past him and walked into their closet once more, deciding on a pair of black peep-toe suede booties that brought her to a tall 5’11, a charcoal grey long sleeve v-neck, and a deep purple cardigan. She put the rest of her clothes on and clicked her way over to her jewelry box where she retrieved a pair of pearl earrings and her lucky ring. She looked wonderful when she turned around to walk out of the bedroom, stopping to pick up her purse and hand Robert his pistol and leather jacket. They both walked to the car, climbing in. Both respectively turning on their seat warmers. The drive was relatively quiet, and Megan had her hand on his thigh, absentmindedly running her fingernails along it the majority of the way. Robert pulled up to the front of the restaurant, the valet men scurried like roaches,.
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