They can pretend they don’t know each other here, at a Muggle club. James, for once is grateful that he inherited his father’s Potter looks whilst Lily is a definite Weasley, red hair and all. He saunters up to her as she sits on the high stool by the bar, legs crossed in a skirt which is far too short to be appropriate anywhere, especially as he knows she has nothing underneath it.
James loves it.
“Buy you a drink?” he asks her, as if she were a stranger to him.
She flicks her eyes up and gives him a sensual once-over, making him half-hard already. She licks her lips and smiles.
“If you want.”
She orders – of course she does – the most expensive cocktail in the club. They both know James can afford it. She sips it slowly, and he leans against the bar next to her with his own drink clasped lazily in one hand.
“Come here often?” he says casually.
She uncrosses her legs and tucks her toes behind the crosspiece of her barstool. “I’m hoping to come here tonight,” she murmurs.
“You’re so fucking filthy,” he mutters back, falling out of character for a second.
There is a smirk on her lips as she slides her knees a little way apart. “That’s the way you like me,” she returns.
James loves it.
“Buy you a drink?” he asks her, as if she were a stranger to him.
She flicks her eyes up and gives him a sensual once-over, making him half-hard already. She licks her lips and smiles.
“If you want.”
She orders – of course she does – the most expensive cocktail in the club. They both know James can afford it. She sips it slowly, and he leans against the bar next to her with his own drink clasped lazily in one hand.
“Come here often?” he says casually.
She uncrosses her legs and tucks her toes behind the crosspiece of her barstool. “I’m hoping to come here tonight,” she murmurs.
“You’re so fucking filthy,” he mutters back, falling out of character for a second.
There is a smirk on her lips as she slides her knees a little way apart. “That’s the way you like me,” she returns.
“Fuck, yeah.”