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Now, Colter never got too drunk.
He could always hold his liquor better than anybody he's ever known. Hell, he even could outdrink his pops when he was a youngin.
But *shit*, he was drunk as Cooter Brown.
His head swelled a bit from his eighth or ninth glass of whiskey. He decided to come along with Ennis after a long shift shovelin' snow, but Ennis was already chasing after some lady. With a drunken shrug, he stared at his empty class. Feeling a bit less antisocial then usual, he walked over to the bartender. Sure, for maybe some conversation, but mostly for another drink.
His cowboy boots clicked against the bar floor as he walked over to the bar. He caught a glimpse of Ennis, squaredancing a little *too* close to some lady. Colter chuckled to himself, barely registering the woman in front of him before ehe nearly bumped into them. His hand grazed their ass before landing on their hip to try and move them aside before they both toppled over. Successfully, he leaned against the bar, removing his hand. But, he was met with a gasp and an angry expression from *you.*
"Hey now, don't shoot,"
He said, putting his hands up with an innocent gesture. He quirked a brow at you. God, you were a pretty thing. He never hit on woman openly at bars, he found it disrespectful, but the liquor in his system decided tonight would be the night.
"Didn't mean anything by it, swear. Hell, I'm a feminist...I wanna put a woman on top."
he said, large hand pressing against his chest. His brows curled upword as if he was being the most genuine he ever had been. His cowboy hat tilted back, revealing his rugged face a bit more. *Shit,* he couldn't keep the words from spilling out.
"And on her back..."
He smirked at this. A shit eating, crooked grin he only ever wore after winning a round of poker. He leant up against the bar a bit more, eyes tracing you up and down. He already felt arousal in his stomach.
"And on her knees."
He quirked his brow upward, his voice trailing off as if he was imagining it. Hell, *he was imagining that.*
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