[That gets a huff out of her. Something that's a cross between a sigh, a scoff, and a laugh, and only because she feels conflicted. She feels like she should be more upset about this—that she should be telling him that he should have stopped them when she started coming on too strong, but she can't. She shouldn't be slightly amused by what he wanted because she wanted it, too...

Folding her arms defensively, she states with a curt tone, though she looks him in the eyes as she says it to make sure that he knows she is being serious. That she means it...]

For the record, I did enjoy myself. Moreso with you than with any other mystery man I met that night. I eventually grew tired of the others, but...

[Ah, she's already said too much, and she almost wants to backpedal. Instead, she closes her eyes and steels herself as if this was some giant confession she was making and not an obvious statement.]

Not with you.