John's POV
John's mind was spinning. He wanted to blame it on the drinks, but he couldn't. Rhiannon just did this to him, she was intoxicating all on her own.
The whiskey helped though.
He stumbled up the stairs after her, desperate to have his hands on her again. The sound of her giggle as she took his hand and hauled him into her apartment was nearly his undoing. She was never so bubbly, he was used to her tough girl act.
As they made it through the door, she turned to him. She forced him backwards a couple of steps, pushing him against the door to slam it shut.
He grabbed her by the back of the neck, crushing her mouth to his. Her hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, making quick work of them. He shouldered out of it.
Rhiannon took a step back from him.
"F*ck," she moaned.
"What?" John asked.
"You shouldn't look like that," she whined.