Thank you again to The_Potato_Writer for the amazing banner on top. I've also added the song (You'll know when) for this chapter, it's better when you read with the song

By the time we left the rooftop bar, I could feel the alcohol starting to kick in, I only had two shots because I knew what a lightweight I was when it came to alcohol. Mitchell, on the other hand, was the total opposite, he drank more than me, but he still looked as sober as a judge.

We went to two other bars, one was a classic American, saloon set up. We didn't stay there for very long, Mitchell was still sticking to beers while I stuck more to gin drinks, I was tempted to share a beer with Mitchell, but he was adamant on me not even smelling it. The highlight of that place for me was a photobooth, Mitchell had to be forced but I took a good number of pictures.

Thereafter we went to an Irish themed bar and that was a lot of fun, the music was great and the people over there were friendly, Mitchell stepped up his game and ordered a bourbon and even vodka. We stayed at that bar longer than the previous one because the vibe was just better.

I didn't know if it was the alcohol but sitting and drinking with Mitchell was fun, we talked and mostly laughed over the silliest of things. I don't think I had ever seen Mitchell smile and laugh as much as he did in one night, he was so carefree and laidback, as opposed to his usual stern, uptight self. While we shared drinks, we seemed to forget all about the animosity we shared or the circumstances which lead us to this trip, we were just two young folks out having fun and it was... it was nice and refreshing to just let down my hair and not think for once.

Our driver stopped at the fourth bar and it looked more upscale than the previous two we visited. I was pretty damn drunk when we stepped into the dimly lit bar. I looked around and there were lots of people present, the bar was more like a lounge, it had loveseats spread out with little tables in the middle of each pair of couches. The room was lit with mostly a neon colored light, behind the couch set up area was the bar with waiters standing around, waiting to serve customers.

A friendly waiter got us a seat not too far from a stage set up with a mic, a screen, and large speakers. On the stage were people – very drunk looking people singing karaoke with words on the screen adjacent to them.

"Oh God, no," Mitchell mumbled to himself as he took a seat next to me, "I should've guessed it's a karaoke bar."

I raised a brow at him, "Are you here for the music of for the drinks?"

He thought over my words for a moment before he answered, "Good point."

Mitchell raised a hand, signaling for someone to come serve us.

"What are you ordering this time?" I asked him.

He smirked at me, "No more kiddies drinks, we bringing out the big guns."

Before I could ask what he meant, our waiter was there ready to take our order.

Mitchell looked at him, "Do you have Don Julio, 1942 tequila?"

"Yes, sir, we do." The waiter said.

"Bring me ten shots of those and bring extra lime as the lady can't handle too much bitterness." He told the waiter.

"Tequila?" I questioned once the waiter went off the get our drinks.

He shrugged. "I think we've had enough foreplay for one night, it's time for the real fun."

I raised both my brows at him and the more I examined him, I could tell that Mitchell was now a little more than tipsy, he wasn't wasted but he was most definitely drunk. His eyes looked a little hazy and bloodshot, his hair was unkempt, he had a natural glow on his face, and he had a lot more peps to his steps, in fact, the guy was chirpy as hell.

"Who are you and what have you done with Bitchell?" I asked.

"Bitchell," He pulled his face, "I do not like that name at all. Why would you call me that?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but because you're a bitch." I replied.

He nodded, "I agree but I hate nicknames, I've done that before and it was cute back then, but now it just makes my skin crawl."

"You do realize that it isn't a pet name to be cute,right? It's to insult you." I pointed out.

He gasped. "I had no idea, and here I thought you were trying to be loving."

I was surprised, Mitchell was being sarcastic instead of just rolling his eyes or responding in an angst tone, a drunk Mitchell was a whole different person, a person I could maybe tolerate. I shook my head, no, I could never tolerate him – that was clearly the alcohol speaking.

"Well Milo isn't very appealing either," I told him, "It sounds like something you'd call your puppy or dog."

He grinned at me, looking amused, "Well, maybe it's my way of asking you to be my bitch." He winked at me mischievously.

Did he just say what I thought he did? He was being bold, really bold. He was an ass but he also held some sort of respect for women, I've noticed it when he spoke to women in public and also when he would hold my hand too tightly, or like when he burnt my hand earlier in the evening, so hearing him refer to someone as his 'bitch' was new.

"Classy Mitch." I sarcastically remarked.

"Alright, for a better term – my little pet... if you know what I mean." He said.

My mouth dropped and my eyes widened a fraction, I couldn't believe that Bitchell was sitting across me, he looked like him and sounded like him but he sure as hell didn't behave like him.

I was about to respond but the waiter came over with a tray of ten shot glasses, filled to the top with tequila. He brought over a side plate with lime wedges and a saltshaker.

"Ready for a shot, Milo?" Mitchell asked, gesturing to the shots on the tray in front of us.

Since he was purposely calling me Milo, so in referral to his previous statement, I thought I'd play along with him.

I looked up at him innocently and said, "Whenever you say so, sir."

He shot his brows up in amusement, he chuckled before saying, "Oh, are we playing like that?"

"You started it." I cheekily retorted.

"Alright," He nodded, "No more talk and more action."

I had no idea where he was going with this, under normal sober circumstances I would be hesitant but I was too buzzed to care what he meant and to be honest, we were having fun so what the hell. I knew he wouldn't cross a line – I knew him pretty well enough to know that, after all, we were sharing a room for two days and he didn't try anything on me once.

My thoughts were broken when he picked up the salt shaker from the table and looked at it then at me with a small smirk, I frowned, wondering what he meant but that was cleared up when he spoke.

"Give me your hand." He instructed.

"Why?" I asked.

He raised a brow, "You dare question me?"

Someone's getting a tad bit carried away.

"Yeah," I drawled, "Don't say it like that."

He gave me a look, "Just give me your hand."

I sighed and did as he asked of me, with his eyes solely fixed on me he sprinkled a small line of salt over the top of my palm. He dropped the saltshaker on the table in front of us and with a small smirk, he lowered his face, so that his lips were in line with my palm. I watched curiously as he parted his lips and then to my utter surprise, he ran his tongue over the small line drawn with salt.

My eyes were wide when he pulled away with that smirk still on his face, grabbed one tequila shot, and downed it. He scrunched his face when he put the glass down and bit into a lime wedge.

"Ah," He throatily said once he put the wedge down, "That is some good tequila."

I looked at him in bewilderment then down to my hand which had a slight glisten over where he licked and then up at him again.

"I'm asking again, who are you?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "I'm having fun, that's what I am."

"I had no idea you even knew that word existed." I mumbled to myself.

He rolled his eyes before he pulled the tray towards my side of the table.

"Your turn." He said.

I picked up the salt and was about to line my other, clean palm but Mitchell stopped me.

"Ah-ah," He shook his finger from left to right, and then he offered me his hand, "Tit for tat, that's the rules."

I looked at his hand then up at his challenging gaze, I doubted that he was thinking I wouldn't do it. But he was in for a surprise, I wasn't afraid of him and I never lost anything, so I lined the top of his palm with salt, I looked up at him from beneath my lashes to see him looking at me in amusement. I averted my gaze to the salt on his hand before I slowly licked down the line of salt.

As soon as I looked up, Mitchell handed me the shot glass, taking it from him I immediately downed it, feeling the burn at the back of my throat from the very bitter liquid.

I pulled my face when I was done and before I could even put the glass down, Mitchell had a slice of lime waiting for me in his hands, he shoved it in my mouth and I instinctively bit into it, sucking the sour fruit.

I pulled out the lime and put it on the tray and shook my head, already feeling the tequila starting to do its job.

"Good right?" Mitchell asked with a wide grin.

It was one of the best tequilas I ever had that was for sure, it was smooth and had just the right amount of burn.

Mitchell lifted the saltshaker again and looked at me with a spark in his eye. "Ready for the next one, Millie?"

I was about to nod but I heard what he called me - Millie. It was a very long time since I heard anyone call me that and it stirred an emotion in me, I didn't want to go down that road, especially when I had one too many.

"Don't call me that." I told him seriously.

"A name Mila doesn't approve of," Mitchell mused, "Now I'm going to definitely use it all the time."

"Don't." I warned.

"Whatever you say," He paused, "Millie."

He was starting to piss me off, I should've known fun wouldn't last long with him. "I mean it Mitch, don't."

He rolled his eyes and thankfully dropped it, maybe he also knew that he if pressed further onto the matter, it would ruin our fun.

He shook the shaker, "My turn."

I waited for him to take a swig of salt but he didn't and instead looked at me with a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Again?" I asked.

He tilted his head to the side and shifted closer to me. "Didn't you enjoy it the first time?"

I pushed at his chest to put a small distance between us, I looked at him with a tiny grin, "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now Mitchy... you don't want to do something we'll both regret in the morning."

He moved closer to me, resulting in my hand that was on his chest to drop on my lap. He brought his lips to my ears and whispered, "I doubt you'd regret anything once I'm done with you, in fact you'd be begging for more."

I was left speechless, I had no words to come back at to this side of Mitchell. It was as if he was hiding underneath all his arrogance and only alcohol could bring out his real side.

He pulled away and looked at me with a smirk, "Shall we continue our little drinking game then?"

"Why not?" I nodded.

I offered him my hand again but he shook his head.

"I don't want your hand this time." He said.

I frowned, "Then?"

His gaze lowered to my chest that back up to me. I couldn't believe what he was insinuating, I put one hand over my boobs and shook my head.

"No way. You're not touching my boobs." I told him.

"Relax, I have no interest in the twins," He clarified and then he lifted his hand and trailed a finger over my collarbone, "This, however... I think collarbones can be very sexy."

I seriously needed to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming because there was no way the man in front of me was Mitchell.

"So, may I?" He asked, "Unless you're shy or scared my tongue on your body might have a certain effect on you."

He must've been delusional if he thought he had any effect on me. Did he forget that I dared him to kiss me a few hours ago?

I titled my neck, giving him more exposure to my collarbone, "Hit me."

Mitchell placed his one hand on my thigh and pulled me closer to him when he drew a line of salt on the left side of my collarbone. I gulped when I felt his warm breath fan over my skin and then was replaced by the texture of his even warmer tongue as he, rather slowly ran it along the prominent bone on my chest.

When he was done, he pulled away and I let out a breath I forgot that I was holding in. I watched him down another shot and bite into a brand-new lime.

"Yummy." He cheekily said when he was done and wiped away whatever saliva was on my collarbone with his thumb.

I knew he did not mean that for the shot but rather at me. I chocked on a laugh, "You did not."

"What?" he smugly asked, "You think only you can tease?"

I smirked at him and grabbed the saltshaker, "It's my turn again."

He opened his arms and rested back on his seat, "I'm all yours."

'Tomorrow is going to be so awkward.' I thought to myself before I moved closer to him and because he was relaxed on the couch, I had to almost hover over him to get to the spot I wanted.

So, putting one leg on the seat, I moved a lot closer and rested one hand over his stomach. He looked at me curiously when I grabbed the neckline of his white t-shirt and pulled it aside, exposing his chest.

I felt his chest vibrate when he chuckled and when I looked up at his face he was looking down at where my hands were holding his shirt.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked.

"What?" I questioned, "Are you afraid a little licking might get Bitchell junior excited?"

He shook his head, "No, but it might get mini Mila flowing."

I rolled my eyes, "Ugh, you are so full of yourself."

Without waiting for a reply, I took the salt and laid a line over his chest. Just before I was about to lick it, I looked at the few hairs on his chiselled chest and took in a breath before I brought my lips over the area the salt sat, I licked it and I swear I heard a sharp  intake of breath from him when my tongue touched his skin.

Once all the salt was in my mouth I moved away and once again Mitchell had a shot waiting for me and then a lime thereafter.

When I was done, he was smirking like an idiot, I thought Mitchell hated when I made advances at him but tonight, the tables have turned, and I was seeing a real wild side of him.

I wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face, so I pulled an invisible hair from my mouth and wiped it over his thigh.

"Ew," I scrunched my face, "Chest hair."

"Funny." Mitchell sarcastically remarked when he grabbed the salt from my hand again.

"So, where do you want my tongue now?" He asked.

I knew he was choosing his words carefully, but he should know that if he was one step ahead, I could easily get two steps ahead of him.

I looked at him and then down to my lap, I slowly lifted my gaze and looked into his wondering blue eyes. I then slowly lifted the hem of my dress to expose my upper thigh.

I parted my legs a little, exposing a little of my inner thigh. I then gestured to the exposed leg with my eyes, "Depends on how far you're willing to go."

He looked down at my exposed thigh then up at me with a raised brow, he chuckled as he scratched the corner of his lip.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

I shrugged. "If you can handle the heat, jump in the pit."

"Is that a challenge?" He questioned.

I shook my head, "Just a statement."

He chuckled again and I was utterly shocked when he bent down as if to pick something off the floor, he then shifted close to me and placed one hand on my waist, I then felt his hot breath over my thigh.

He was really going to do it, I was just kidding because I thought he'd straight out refuse but here we were, with Mitchell's face between my legs, that even sounded so bad when I put it like that.

Before he could make another move, I held onto his head and he looked up at me. I looked down and shook my head.

"I was kidding, don't do it." I told him.

He pulled away and smiled at me in a taunting way, "Did I make you nervous?"

"No," I honestly said, "Just not comfortable with it."

He could see that there was no sarcasm to my tone, so he pulled away immediately.

"If you want to stop, we can," He told me earnestly, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No-no, you're not," I told him, "Just some areas are off-limits."

He put up his hands. "Understandable."

He then shook the saltshaker and asked, "Where next then?"

I surrendered my arms like he did and answered, "Anywhere from above my boobs."

He rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and looked at me, thinking where he could draw a line of salt next. After a moment he told me to title my neck again, but this time to expose more neck to him.

"Someone is being ballsy." I remarked when I realized where he wanted to place the salt.

"After their injury last night, I need to put them to the test and see if they still work." He retorted.

I couldn't help but laugh at his response, this side of Mitchell was daring, seductive and funny.

"I cannot believe you said that." I told him.

He simply shrugged with a shameless grin.

"Come on," He gestured for me to tilt my neck.

I did as he said and he held my shoulder, sprinkling salt down the corner of my neck, and within seconds I felt his hot breath over my tender skin. I felt his tongue run along the nape of my neck twice.

I couldn't help but feel that his action was way too sexual to be done in public, but at that moment both of us didn't care, all we could see and hear were each other.

He pulled away and I slowly straightened my neck, watching him take another shot of tequila. I gulped when I saw the veins in his neck protrude when he pulled his face at the taste of the bitter drink and thereafter the sour fruit.

I needed to blink more than once to snap me out of my reverie when I heard his voice.

"Your turn." He said.

"Huh?" I mindlessly murmured before looking at him, "Yeah."

He lowered his shirt and tilted his neck, it must've been the alcohol, but Mitchell was suddenly looking hot, I knew it was my drunken hormones and nothing else thinking at that moment. I needed to control them because I knew I wasn't the smartest when I was drunk, I needed to remind myself that he was Mitchell and we hated each other.

I took the salt and sprinkled it over his neck before I moved closer to him and brought my lips to his skin, I couldn't help but notice how good he smelt – musky, fresh and if I said so myself, very masculine. I ignored that and licked over the sprinkled salt on his exposed neck, my hand instinctively grabbed his bicep to gain better access.

Once all the salt was in my mouth I pulled away and paused for a moment, realizing how close our faces were to each other, I looked up into his bloodshot, slightly hazed, blue-grey eyes and they were staring back at me intensely.

I could feel his chest lift and drop when he breathed and for some reason, my breathing picked up a little, we were both just looking at each other without a word shared, all I could think at that moment was that I was pretty