Chapter 1243 Intoxicated Kisses
Stella's slender fingers danced across her phone screen, her eyes darting around mischievously.
"Randy, how about some ice-cold beer? It's sweltering out there—I think a few cold ones would really hit the spot."
Randy barely looked up, giving a casual shrug. "Whatever you want. Your call."
Stella beamed as she added some beer to her online cart, practically glowing with satisfaction.
Their late-night feast arrived shortly after she placed the order. She deliberately selected a movie and cast it to the TV, then arranged their spread on the coffee table in front of the couch. They settled on the floor, sharing grilled skewers and cold beer while the film played in the background—pure bliss.
Randy leaned back against the couch, watching her devour one skewer after another with obvious hunger, and couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"Drinking on an empty stomach isn't great for you. Get some food in first, then the beer."
Stella hastily stuffed a skewer into her mouth.
"God, this is amazing! Street barbecue is my absolute favorite—exactly the kind of flavor I crave."
She grabbed several meat skewers and thrust them toward Randy. Though he wasn't particularly hungry, he accepted them graciously to avoid dampening her enthusiasm, slowly eating while nursing his beer.
As the evening wore on, they made quick work of the entire spread. Empty beer cans filled the trash bin to overflowing.
Stella had clearly overdone it—she let out a massive burp, her cheeks flushed an unnatural pink from the alcohol. Her head felt impossibly heavy, swimming with dizziness, and she had to prop it up with her hands to keep from face-planting into the coffee table.
Randy glanced at his phone. "It's almost eleven. I should head home, and you need to shower and get to bed."
"Mmm-hmm," Stella nodded, though she was clearly in a fog. She braced herself against the coffee table and tried to stand, but her head felt like it weighed a ton. The room spun wildly around her, everything swaying and blurring. She stumbled forward a few steps before pitching straight toward the floor.
Randy caught her just in time, steadying her against him.
"You're completely wasted."
Stella felt perfectly lucid in her mind—her thoughts seemed clear, she knew what she wanted to do—but her body had other plans. Her limbs felt like jelly, utterly unresponsive, while her muscles had turned to mush.
She shook her head, struggling to focus on Randy's face, but her eyelids felt weighted with lead. No matter how hard she tried, she could only crack them open a sliver. Randy's face multiplied before her—two, four, six versions of him swaying back and forth.
She couldn't take it anymore and cupped his face with both hands. "Stop moving around—you're making me dizzy."
Randy sighed inwardly. "I told you to take it easy with the beer, but you wouldn't listen."
Stella swayed her head back and forth, pouting indignantly. "I'm not drunk! I'm perfectly fine! Here, watch me dance—that'll prove it."
She pushed away from him and clambered onto the couch, attempting some sort of rhythmic movement. Randy had never witnessed such spectacular lack of coordination. Despite her tiny waist, her dancing was painfully stiff—like watching someone try to breakdance in a straitjacket.
Stella remained blissfully unaware of how ridiculous she looked, convinced she was putting on quite a show. She sang along with her imaginary music, her voice wildly off-key.
Randy's eye began to twitch. This was a complete disaster. Her singing could shatter glass, and her dancing defied all known laws of human movement.
Terrified she'd wake the entire building, he grabbed her flailing arms and spoke with forced patience. "Come on, Stella, let's call it a night. Time for a shower and bed."
Stella yanked her hands free. "No way! I want to dance and sing!"
Randy hung his head, rubbing his nose in embarrassment so acute he could have crawled into a hole and disappeared forever.
Just as he debated whether to physically carry her to her room, Stella's right foot missed the couch entirely. She tumbled forward, and Randy's heart nearly stopped as he lunged to catch her.
Relief flooded through him as he gathered her safely in his arms, but his rescued damsel was completely oblivious to her near-miss. Instead, she threw her arms up in excitement. "I was flying! Did you see that? I want to fly again!"
Randy felt utterly defeated. "If I'd known you were such a lightweight that beer could knock you flat, I would have stopped you no matter what."
His biggest regret was not intervening earlier. He'd had no idea drunk Stella would be such a handful.
"Come on, be good. Let me get you to bed."
Randy decided to take charge of the situation. A shower was clearly out of the question—sleep would have to do.
But before he could move, Stella suddenly cupped his face and leaned in close, their noses nearly touching. At this intimate distance, he caught her sweet scent mixed with the faint aroma of alcohol, and his breath hitched as his pulse quickened.
Stella squinted hard, tilting her head as she studied Randy's features, then broke into a dopey grin. "Who are you? You're really handsome."
Randy's eyebrow twitched as he gently pried her hands away. "You're drunk."
Stella pouted and immediately reclaimed his face, leaning even closer until their noses touched and her eyes crossed comically.
She stared at Randy with that silly grin for several moments. Then, before he could react, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
Randy's mind went blank, sparks firing in all directions. He stood frozen like a rusted machine that had seized up, unable to process what had just happened.
Stella remained completely unaware of the effect she'd had, smacking her lips thoughtfully.
"Mmm, your lips are so soft and sweet. Did you eat candy? I want some too."
Without warning, she kissed him again.
This time was nothing like the first innocent peck. Stella alternated between nibbling his lower lip and sucking on the upper one, seemingly desperate to discover some secret but having no idea how to go about it. She attacked his mouth like an overeager puppy.
Heat flashed in Randy's eyes. Their lips seemed to generate electricity, every sensation amplified beyond reason. He could hear the soft, wet sounds of their mouths moving together.
"Mmm..." Stella made a frustrated little whimper, unable to achieve whatever she was seeking.
That sweet, breathy sound sent shockwaves through Randy's entire system. His spine tingled, his nerves pulled taut and began hammering wildly. It was as if someone had dropped a lit match into his bloodstream—heat exploded outward from his core, threatening to consume him entirely.
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