They sat in her parlor lit by two Edison bulbs and a flickering fireplace. Ambrosia watched as Dolce, her new boy toy, popped the top on his soft drink and take a sip. After a moment he let out a satisfied sigh, sounding like someone from an old Pepsi commercial.
She didn't think he looked like the sort of guy who sipped anything. Dolce looked like a man with a wild streak in him. He was roughly lean, the way junkies and bass players were, and she kind of liked the way he dressed. His attire was grunge band meets lazy business casual; dark stonewashed jeans with a black club collar button-up always half-open, showing off his tank top and tattoos. Coupled with his trimmed beard and thick lips that Ambrosia imagined were amazing to kiss, Dolce looked more like a guy who slammed shots back than someone who sipped a soft drink.
He took another sip, and she watched his lips before her eyes trailed down to his Adam's apple as he swallowed. It shouldn't have been sexy. It shouldn't have turned her on, but that didn't stop arousal from blossoming inner chest.
Dolce caught her staring and turned to Ambrosia, his curiosity lit in soft tangerine light. "Is that any good?" She asked.
He nodded. "Most people think it's too sweet, but I like it." He held it out to her. "You wanna' taste?"
Ambrosia thought for a minute before an idea came to her. "Yeah, I think I'll try some." She sat up on the couch, but instead of taking the drink, she moved past Dolce's outreached arm and straddled him. In the dim light, Ambrosia saw a surprised smile come over him before she pressed her lips to his, and a moment later, their tongues were clashing.
Ambrosia pulled away with a smile corkscrewed between her lips. She tasted a sugary-sweet cherry tang that lit up her tastebuds. Ambrosia found that she liked the taste almost as much as she liked being in Dolce's lap, especially with his hand curled around her waist.
She smacked her lips, making a show of deciding whether his cherry kiss tasted good or not. Finally, she looked at him, running her fingers through his hair and telling him, "You're right. It does taste good."
"Told you," He teased. "But maybe you need another taste? You know, just to make sure." Dolce took another sip, then turned to her with a devious expectant look in his eyes. Ambrosia leaned in again, the time tasting something like pineapple. Where had that come from?
She pulled away, pleasantly confused. "Mmmm. You taste different now." She looked to the can, thinking maybe, somehow, he'd grabbed another one. No, it was still the same soft drink.
"It's just me. I'm a sweet boy."
"Oh yeah?" It came out in a dry laugh. "How'd you get so sweet?"
Dolce shrugged. "Dunno. Good genetics, I guess." He leaned up and licked her neck, which sent waves of excitement throughout her body. "What's your excuse?" He asked.
