She was right. He needed to cool down, but his hand was still on her ass and he felt that shudder run through her body. He wanted nothing more than to move them to more private surroundings, peel off those leather pants of hers and taste her. Slowly, his eyes became hooded with the desire and control both fighting in his head. The control won, by a very small margin.
Since his hand was no longer on her leg, he cupped her cheek, threading his fingers into her short hair - gripping her tightly - taking control and brought his lips down hard on hers one more time, before letting her go. Stepping back, he gave her a smirk.
"I agree. I'll have three shots of whiskey, straight up."
They wouldn't do much, but they would help him relax a little. He considered this an exercise in control. Really, they'd fucked enough in public already.