You know...when I was in Berlin, they couldn't keep me out of the karaoke bars.

What! Really?

No. I can't sing for toffee I'm afraid.

He gave her a big smile then.

But that's okay, you can sing well enough for both of us...

He suddenly realised both his hands were still on her legs where he had turned her towards him. He slowly began to pull them away along the surface of her tights.

Don't.

She dropped her hands to his forearms and leaned just a fraction towards him, willing him to make the first move. His eyes blinked once, then twice. Finally he curled his fingers into her legs and closed the gap between them almost completely. Their faces were centimeters apart. So close, but still not crossing the line.

I really want to kiss you

Ruth made a tiny little humming sound and closed her eyes. Please, she thought - now.

Then his mouth met hers and everything else disappeared. Thoughts, surroundings, sounds, time - everything stopped. Pure, immediate, thrilling sensation. Then he pulled back and it was like being jolted awake.

What?

I don't know, I can't quite believe this is -

His eyes were wide and searching.

Don't you want to?

Yes. God! yes. But - do you?

Yes.

Just yes?

Just yes.

She leaned back a little, smiling, challenging him.

His eyes flashed darkly and he leaned towards her again, moving his hands slightly back up her legs to the feathery hem of her dress.

Okay then.

He closed the distance between them again with passion and certainty. Her hands flew up to his face in surprise at the intensity. Her mouth opened slightly as hot breath escaped between them and she returned his kiss with everything she had.

This was the dream - him leaning into her in the booth, warm hands on her legs. The reality was better than anything she could imagine, anything she had experienced. Was there anything, she briefly considered, better than this?

The angles of their heads changed as they deepened their clinch. Their mouths moved in a way which was both sleepy and powerfully, hungrily, alive. Like they were trying to draw something out of each other. Like they couldn't decide whether there wasn't enough time or whether they had all the time in the world.

Her hands were behind his neck now, was she pulling him closer or holding him in place? How much time was passing? His hands were at her waist and she felt herself rising up out of her seat very slightly. How could it be too much and yet not enough?

In the far background the barman rang the bell for last orders and their surroundings faded slowly back in. They rested their foreheads against each other, releasing their pent-up breaths, fingers flexing.

Tell me we don't belong together...after that.