"I'm old-fashioned," she breathed, nodding that he should get them. What she really meant was that she fucked around, but he didn't need to know that in so many words.
If he hadn't figured it out, she wasn't going to pick this second to tell him.
Instead, she reached for the bottle and took another swig, feeling the alcohol in her knees and in her head, slowing her down. Making the table soft and his body warmer than normal. It was a nice illusion.