You make one more stop.

With your trip nearly complete and feeling hungered, you stop at a tavern that is open at all hours of the night. The best time to scout a rich man's house was two or three hours before dawn, so you have a few more hours to wait before you could make your approach. You sit at a table and order your drink and meal.

A tall haughty man approaches and rudely takes a seat beside you, blocking you in. His clothing is plain but tailored to fit his frame perfectly and cut in the latest style from high quality material.

"Excuse me!" You say, not unused to this kind of unwanted attention.

"It's okay," he reassures, "I saw you here and it looked like you require company."

"I am here because I require a meal. Now, please, leave me."

You suckle at your bottom lip as your eyes glare up at him, making it as clear as you know how that he is not welcome. His eyes, however, sweep over you like a merchant, taking in the smoothness of your face and the delicate fibers of your shiny black hair. This poor man has no idea how close he is to ****.

"Please don't ask me to leave," he says, "We were meant to meet for this night."

"And now we are meant to part," you reply.

"Let's make a bet."

"What?" you exclaim, shocked at his persistence.

"For twenty coins I bet I can kiss you without touching your lips."

You're not stupid, but before you can tell him 'Nice try, asshole' he leans in, grabs your face, and smacks your lips with his.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he says, pulling back, "I guess I can't do it."

He throws a handful of small copper coins on the table, then gets up to leave toward the bar.

You remain alone steaming with rage, while he laughs and jokes with his buddies - the subject is probably you.

You so want to get him back, but right here would be too public. You think you should just leave it alone, but something inside commands you to take ****. Should you?