[Give him this: she exhales a soft hah to that, amused at his honesty.]

Fair enough. But there's a difference between buying me a drink as a prelude to you sprawling in my bed and because I demanded it of you. Or at least: there is in my mind.

[And he's right, too, in that she'll finish this drink come hell or high water, because she's stubborn and prideful. No matter her tongue protests very loudly to putting the glass to her lips again; she does it anyway, her left hand curling tightly again as it burns her mouth and throat.]

But perhaps someday you'll earn a place there. If you're particularly good. How old are you?