Page 19 of Mark my Words

“Cocky.”

I wasn’t going to comment on that one, but she’d gotten the attention of the piece of anatomy in question.

“Arrogant.”

It was probably wrong of me to get a little turned on at how her eyebrow arched and how when she’d started counting off on her hands, it caused her arms to push her tits together in that tight tank top.

“Egotistical.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, “Aren’t those all synonyms of each other? Do they even count as different things?”

“Maybe that’s the point, Sam.” She turned on the stool to face me head-on, shifting forward so her leg nestled between mine. “You’re a brat.”

“Oh, Kris,” I laughed as I whispered in her ear again. “We both know I’m not the brat in this situation.” I paused momentarily and then pressed my lips against her ear, roughly whispering. “And brats are designed for one thing—getting put over my knee.”

At her quick inhale of breath, I was almost afraid she’d throw her knee forward into my crotch, but she grasped my leg with her hand, turning her mouth toward my ear. “You say that like it’s a terrible thing. Sounds fun. Wonder if you’d have the nerve to follow through.”

“Fuck.” I exhaled softly, grasping her wrist to halt the forward motion of her hand.

“Don’t play a game you can’t win, Sam,” she taunted as she leaned back, turning toward the bar and signaling to the bartender.

There were two ways that I could handle this situation. I could pull back and stop flirting, even though imagining what it’d feel like if Kristine rode me in that skirt was now running on a loop in my head. Or...I could go for it and fuck the consequences. Well, hopefully, fuck something.

After the bartender slid a tall glass of what looked like a mojito across the bar to her, I leaned close to her ear as she wrapped her lips around the straw. “I’m not playing a game, Kristine. I think you’d look hot with my handprint right about here.” I grazed my palm along the back of her skirt, just enough that she could tell where I was talking about but not enough that I was that creepy guy grabbing a woman’s ass in a bar.

She choked on the sip that she’d taken of her drink, coughing a few times before she turned and glared at me. “You can’t just whisper things like that in a girl’s ear, Sam. Holy fricking shit.”

Leaning in toward her again, I made sure my lips grazed her earlobe, secretly enjoying the shudder I saw go through her at the contact. I don’t know if it was the beer or that I hadn’t gotten laid in a few months, but... “So, I shouldn’t whisper that I’m imagining what it’d be like to flip up the back of that skirt and bend you over the end of my bed?”

I could tell by how she tensed up that she’d heard me clearly, but the question was... Would she play along or twist off my nuts?

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Her hand grasped my thigh again as she gave me a subtle nod.

I leaned back toward her, running the tip of my nose along the side of her neck. “I bet you taste as sweet as you smell...” Her breath caught as I softly kissed beneath her ear, loving how her fingers clenched my leg, her nails biting into the denim of my jeans.

“Would you leave marks on my back when I make you come?” I whispered, “I wonder what you’d sound like if you moaned my name.”

“Sam,” she breathed out in a quiet moan, “What...” Her hand shook on my thigh as she turned her head to the side to look into my eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I’m telling you what I’ve been thinking about this week and hoping it’s not one-sided because then I’d feel like a giant jackass.”

“It’s,” she sighed, as her eyes shut slightly. “This is a terrible idea, but...”

“Mmhmm,” I hummed as I pushed a stray curl over her shoulder, tracing the soft skin with the tip of my finger.

Kristine leaned in, grasping my earlobe with her teeth and tugging, eliciting a low groan out of me. “We should ditch these losers and get out of here.”

“Are...” Now I was the one at a loss for words. “You...”

“Aw,” she smiled as her hand pressed further into my lap, and she grazed my cock, which was trying to break out of my zipper now. “Did I make you nervous, Sammy? I thought you wanted to bend me over something. We don’t have all night.”

“Fuck,” I groaned as I looked at the teasing grin on her face. She was enjoying turning the tables on me, yet again.

“Yes,” she whispered, licking her lips. “That’s the idea. Come on.”

She grabbed my hand and tugged as she slid off her stool, dropping my hand as I stood behind her. My fingers grazed the exposed skin on the side of her waist, and she shook her head as she stepped out of my reach, nodding to the corner table where our coworkers still celebrated.

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