Page 32 of Eye Candy

Floss broke away to gasp for air, then threw her arms around my neck and pulled me into the hot prison of her body.

I’d had the presence of mind to keep a grip on the bottle so it didn’t maim either of us, but she showed zero gratitude for this, instead rolling her hips into the bottle, letting me know what I was surrendering to this proxy.

That was a dangerous line of thought.

All thoughts were dangerous now.

When she wormed a hand down between our bodies, my dick lurched in anticipation but she was reaching for the bottle. Carelessly, she tossed it over the side of the bar, but there was no timeto worry about the smash of glass because she threw her legs around my waist. I pitched forward, grabbing her around the ass with one hand and catching myself on the bar with the other.

Floss ground her body against me like we were somewhere much more private and wearing far fewer clothes. I didn’t stop, I didn’t worry, I just went with it. I put a knee on the bar top and climbed over her, trapping her between my body and the bar. She gasped when I settled some of my weight over her and the flutter of her eyelashes told me she liked that, liked being pinned down by me, with no option but to take everything I gave her.

I knew she would. Some part of me had known from the moment we met.

“I was right,” she gasped, breaking our kiss. It was what I’d been thinking, so it took me a second to realize that she wasn’t reading my mind.

“About what?”

She slid her hand down between our bodies and cupped my cock through my pants. “That you wouldn’t fuck like a puritan.”

“You’d tempt a puritan,” I growled, then kissed along her collarbone, an urge I’d been fighting since the night we met. Her skin was warm and tasted of salt. “No one could have you under them and not give you anything you asked for. And you know it.”

Abruptly she put her hands on my chest. “Stop.”

I froze immediately. “Are you OK?”

“I have to go.”

“I’m sorry.” Awkwardly, I scrambled off the bar and offered her a hand down. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Floss ignored my outstretched hand and flashed a smile so false my stomach dropped. “It’s fine.”

Immanuel Kant wrote it was never wrong to tell the truth, regardless of consequence, because it was a moral duty. Kant had failed to account for situations like this.

She started fumbling for the things Greta had brought over as I surreptitiously tried to adjust my erection.

Her phone started buzzing on the bar and I picked it up, glancing at the screen. “Gerard is calling.”

She lunged, snatching the phone out of my hand.

“Is he the snorer from your apartment?”

“No. Someone else.”

I said that I didn’t judge people for casual sex, and I meant it. But this woman kissing me, grinding against my cock to get it hard for her, then going off to meet someone else had me feeling all kinds of unenlightened things. I knew it was bad, I knew she was wrong for me in every single way. But if she was going to wrap those legs around someone tonight, I wanted it to beme.

I made a split-second decision. “Floss, I know.”

“Know what?” she asked, still frowning at her phone.

“I know you’re not Teddy Bircher.”

Nervously, she looked around to see if anyone had overheard, but we were alone. I waited, but thankfully she didn’t insult us both by pretending further.

“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly.

I thought of Joe, and my log of rejected calls to him. “I don’t know. If you tell me who you are and what you want from my brother, we might be able to resolve this quietly.”

She stayed quiet. I didn’t expect her to fawn with gratitude, but some thanks would have been nice. I was being more than generous.

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