"Just one more drink."

"No, Marc, I need to go..."

"You know you don't need to, it's not even late."

"My girflriend is going to kill me if I come home late again."

"You know she won't. She didn't last time and she won't this time."

My back was pressed against the doorframe, with my hand on the handle and Marcs hand on mine.

"You wanted to meet, you can't leave me hanging now."

"Marc... I...I have a girlfriend... I..."

"She won't know. Please. Just one more drink. With me. And we'll talk."

I sigh. My grip around the handle loosens. I stared into his blue eyes, that were inside this beautiful frame of a face. Those hard, manly edges of his face, with his little dark stubble. His firm grip around my hand. I looked into his face and I couldn't believe myself. I couldn't believe my feelings for this guy, my insecurities, my weakness for his butter melting voice.

"Trust me." He murmured.

I did. I did trust him. I had met him at a work trip, months ago. We shared a room back then, talked a lot. He was quite a bit older than me, 37 and seperated. He had found out he was into men when he turned 33 and his wife couldn't believe it. They don't talk anymore. I was straight as an arrow, in love with my girlfriend and living together with her since the start of college. But something about this guy made me forget her. Hell, it made forget that I was the one that was like him with her. Manly, deciding, determing, commanding. I know the look in her eyes, when I held her like that. Soft, innocent, willing. Protected, devoted. Happy to have someone that took care of her. In a way I felt like her. In a way, I felt like a girl that needed and wanted protection.

Marc and I had gone out drinking a lot after our work trip. We had good talks about football, about alcohol, politics and religion. About anything. And one night, at his place, it happened. When I wanted to leave he had taken my neck and gave me a kiss. And there I was, kissing him back. No, getting kissed. Letting it happen. Letting that man control me and falling into his protecting arms. And I loved every second of it. He had confused me. And ever since then, my usual self and my love-drunk-when-I-see-him self fought over meeting him again.

And now here I stood, him so close in front of me. His face had traveled at slow-mo, ever so slightly closer to mine.

"Trust me." He murmured again and leaned in, very softly. His lips touched mine. I closed my eyes and let go of the handle. His hand snapped around my neck and his lips pressed onto mine.

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