Each successive syllable on Richard's part prompted a little more of Nikki's weight to shift onto him by way of arms looped over his shoulders.  Nikki was taller than average, leaving the pair of comparable height.  Despite it, she slouched just a little, making it easier for their faces to linger close; and their lips to almost dare one another into a game of chicken.<br/><br/><em>Your body's to die for...</em><br/><br/>Dark eyes brightened with delight, lips curled into a smile that quickly became a grin by the last of the handsome younger man's remarks.  Sure, compliments were always fun to hear, but there was something in Richard's mannerisms -- and the way he articulated himself -- that made him infinitely more intriguing than your typical hunky club-goer.<br/><br/><em>"Awh.  Well, don't go dyin'.  That would make the rest of the evening considerably less interesting."</em>Playful, she winked, shifting a quick glance to the side.  Chris was at the bar stumbling through an order.  Nothing about his body language suggested he was perturbed, but the young woman couldn't help but stop and think:  Was this okay?  It felt... wrong.<br/><br/>And yet she wanted the game to continue.  Shifting attention back to Richard, her taut thighs split, wedging themselves around the muscular face of his left.  The pressure in conjunction with his grip provided a sort of stimulation that stole away Nikki's breath for the briefest of moments, and the flutter of her eyelids was most<em>certainly</em>sexual in its nature.  Her smile lingered, and she leaned in to whisper to him again.<br/><br/><em>"You don't gotta worry about me, darlin'.  I can hold my alcohol.  Among other things..."</em>