After the second shot of tequila, Sam keens backwards a bit, grasping hard onto the bar stool and then flings herself forward into the bar, catching herself against it at the last minute. She seems more drunk than she is, the immediate affect of the alcohol rushing through her system as she slams the shot glass down on the counter and watches Alicia blur and refocus in front of her. "Maybe I’d better hold off on number three," she says, attempting to sit down.
"It’s no fun if you can’t keep up," Alicia says, smirking, licking the back of her hand and adding a liberal spray of salt to it. "Come on, I’ll help you. We already paid for this one anyways." Somehow, Alicia manages to keep absolutely steady as she holds the last shot out to Sam. Maybe when Sam hadn’t been watching – swallowing her own shots – Alicia had, like, dumped her own. But that was silly. Paranoid. Why would Alicia want to be sober, getting Sam drunk like this?
Other than the obvious, of course, revenge. That was almost too easy.
"Okay, fine," Sam finds herself agreeing, her fingers brushing against Alicia’s as she takes the glass in her own hand, preparing to down it. Alicia holds out her hand, offering the salty side to Sam’s lips.
"Waste not, cousin," Alicia murmurs, readying a lime from the countertop bowl in her other hand.
Sam shudders, and it’s something less to do with the alcohol coursing through her and more to do with the strangeness of Alicia’s eyes, staring straight into hers. She lifts her free hand to press Alicia’s hand to her lips, flicking her tongue out to swipe at the salt and tasting something behind it, skin, Alicia. She doesn’t think about it, but downs the shot, shaking her head vigorously to swallow the harsh liquid. Alicia’s fingertips find Sam’s lips with the lime slice, taken gratefully between Sam’s teeth as she sucks, the room shrinking and growing once again, centering only on Alicia’s eyes.
"Damn," Sam whispers, feeling the room spin a little. "That rhyme is right I think." She blinks slowly, licking her lips for the taste of the lime and leans past Alicia to set the glass on the counter. The movement proves too much and she falls into the blonde, catching herself with her arms around Alicia’s neck. "I’d like... to sit down," she murmurs, their faces much too close.
Alicia smiles, still steady. "Whatever you say, Samantha Best." She slides an arm around Sam’s waist, holding her upright as they move slowly towards the couches along the wall.
When they sit, Sam’s dress slides too far up her thighs, but she doesn’t fix it. Her arms are buzzing with a strange sensation in the air and her eyes just won’t focus. Her head drops to Alicia’s shoulder without thinking; brunette curls cascading over the edge of Alicia’s tube top, tickling her skin.
"Why’d you invite me tonight anyways?" Alicia asks, smirking at the way Sam is succumbing to the alcohol, still skating the line between amusement and arousal at her behavior.
"I already told you it wasn’t a pity invite," Sam speaks against Alicia’s neck, brushing the sensitive skin with her full lips, causing Alicia to shiver. Sam pulls back a little and blinks, attempting to stare Alicia in the face. "I couldn’t help it if all my real friends were busy." Her face breaks into a smile and Sam giggles, obviously amused by this revelation.
"All your real friends?" Alicia repeats, not exactly resenting the comment. It’s true, isn’t it? Still. She shoves Sam off of her shoulder and back against the cushions. It’s the principal of the thing. "Bitch," she growls, even as Sam finishes off her long giggle, wanting to smack the smile off of her face. More for the pleasure of the action than out of any anger, but Sam doesn’t have to know that. In fact, it’s better if Sam doesn’t.
Sam struggles to regain her composure, still finding the situation wonderfully amusing. "That’s not what I meant, Alicia," she tries, cupping her palm against the girl’s cheek as an olive leaf.
"Oh we both know how you – how everyone – feels about me, I think." Alicia knocks the hand away, but leans in, dropping her hands to both sides of Sam’s hips, cornering her in, wanting Sam to feel the heat.
And she does. "Okay!" Sam chokes out, "Fine! What do you want me to say?" She frowns. "You’re a bitch and you know it, and everyone knows it and-" she stops speaking, her voice trailing off, when Alicia straddles her lap, pushing up the fabric of her dress further.
Alicia’s mini-skirt bunches up between them, sliding up her ass as well. She smiles. "I know." She scoots closer to Sam, grinding against her, almost frightened of herself, but drunk with the way she’s swallowing Sam’s startled and oh-so-aroused expression. "Tell me you don’t like it, when I’m a bitch," Alicia whispers against Sam’s chin.
Alicia cuts her off with a kiss, their blood sizzling when the touch finally happens. Alicia arches up, pushing Sam’s head back, changing the position, shoving her cousin into the couch, wanting to take her right here. And she will.
Sam pulls back, struggling for air and feels like the entire world is spinning away from her. The only thing that makes sense, somehow, is the way Alicia’s skin feels under her fingertips, the muscles of her back tensing and moving, arching up again when Sam bites Alicia’s lower lip and growls "Touch me."
They are angry, vigorous fingers that slide into Samantha, making her whimper and arch back against the couch, pushing her hips forward against Alicia’s hand and hips. And the lips that re-capture Sam’s are powerful. She slides her fingers into Sam’s hair, gripping hard, undoing the order held there by bobby-pin and hairspray. The pins scatter, dropping to the sofa.
Two more deep thrusts, a grinding of her thumb against Sam’s clit, and Alicia pulls away, standing up, the slightest evidence of a shiver in her body as she licks her fingers clean and tugs her miniskirt back down. "I’m sorry," she says, unable to look Sam in the eyes. "I really can’t stay."
Sam gapes, shuddering with unfulfilled want, all of her senses still on edge and begging.
"Maybe you were right about me, Sam." Alicia frowns. "Anyways, I called Dorothy two hours ago. I have a feeling she’ll be showing up soon, ready to pick up my pieces."
There are words and Alicia speaking them, but nothing makes sense, nothing sinks in. Sam grows distressed, feeling that if she tried to stand she would meet the floor. "Alicia-" she whimpers, never expecting her voice to sound this way directed towards the blonde in front of her.
"Don’t call me next time you’re lonely," Alicia steels off her face, picking up her purse from the floor by Sam’s feet. She touches Sam’s knee lightly, skin tingling. "Just don’t, cousin."