Sophie stared quizzically at the remnants of the warm liquid, swirling around the base of the mug. Sure, it had tasted good. Better than any tea she’d ever brewed herself. But there was something strange about it. Sophie couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Perhaps the off-grey colour? Maybe the tiny bubbles?
Every time Sophie found herself questioning the nature of the drink, though, the thoughts just floated away, out of her grasp.
Sophie smiled, contentedly. She thought about Mike instead.
Drink up. There’s a good girl.
And just like that, he was there, behind her. His fingers tracing crazy patterns up and down her back, his lips caressing her ears and her neck. He was a master at this kind of thing, Sophie thought. He should really manufacture this stuff. People would go crazy over it!
Sophie giggled at the thought. Go crazy. That’s exactly what she wanted. Calmly, she placed the mug on the window sill, and let the bedsheet slide to the floor.
Sophie turned to face Mike, and smiled coyly. The smile broke into a wild grin. And, in an instant, they were upon each other.