The sexual tension was blatant. They just couldn't disguise it. The approach never seemed to be enough. Casey and Izzie were dancing in the middle of that crowded place and - for a moment - it trully felted like they were the only two people in the room.
Casey, smirking, whispered between lips, in her ear: "I want to touch your whole body. I want to feel the lines that draw your curves at my fingertips. I want to kiss your mouth until you breathe the same air as me. I want to grab your hair as I pull you to me so you realize I won't let you get away. That despite all the people who want you, you are only and all mine. I want to give you all the pleasure in the world, from every morning to every night, anywhere we can make the noise we want - because we will make a lot." Izzie was flushed.
Casey went to the bar, ordered two lemon vodkas and went back to Izzie, who was already drunk. The two danced, getting closer and closer, increasingly forgetting that there were more people besides them in the room. Izzie picked up the glass, laughed and drank it in one sip. Casey smiled and said: "You're crazy." Izzie, biting her lip, answered: "You like it." Casey did the same. She drank her drink in one sip.
Grabbing Izzie's hand, she pulled her to the bar and ordered two shots of tequilla. She took a slice of lemon that went down Izzie's neck and she put a little bit of salt on it. She drank the shot, licked her neck and kissed her immediately. Izzie asked for another shot and did the same with Casey.
They both returned to the track, their bodies glued together, their foreheads touching, their eyes gleaming. They wanted each other so badly that everyone around them could feel it. Izzie, approaching Casey's ear, whispered: "Please take me out of here..." Casey was home alone.
