“And you think it's going to be you?” I asked, then added. “Usually, it's me manhandling other people around.”

Fuck. I didn’t know why I’d said that.

It could obviously be interpreted as me being the one who fights as a boxer, but the dirty undertone was there anyway. And I thought that Dan must have noticed because his eyes suddenly flitted to my lips.

My cock twitched.

I was fucking tired of this infatuation.

Especially at times like this, when it looked like Dan wanted something, or my mind was trying to convince me that there was something hungry in his eyes when there definitely wasn't. There couldn't be. It had to be wishful thinking.

Dan looked back up.

“Don't go easy on me.”

My hands clenched and I pushed myself back.

It would be two months at the most.

Then it would be over.

6

Andy Jacobs

It was Fridaywhen we finally went out again. The crowd tonight was a little more cheerful, a little rowdier, since everyone was tired after a whole week of work, and every Friday was a celebration of the coming weekend. It was perfect for what I had in mind and I let Dan know as soon as we had our drinks in hand.

No shots tonight.

“I dare you to hook up with the first woman you like,” I said, whispering roughly into his ear, unable to help myself even when I had told myself I shouldn’t.

Tonight wasn’t about me. It was about getting my point across.

And about letting my brain know that Dan was absolutelynoton the table.

Still, I couldn’t help but want to get a little vengeance on him for making me crazy all week, intimidate him with my bulk, remind him who was boss here.

Because while he was tall, I was taller. I also had several pounds of muscle on him, which that meant that my back was significantly broader than his, something that I couldn't help but notice with a strange delight in my gut. I could wrap myself around the whole of him if I wanted to, I could press him downand cover the whole of him, I could manhandle him into doing whatever I wanted him to–

Stop it.

No thinking about that.

Tonight I had a goal.

Dan shivered almost imperceptibly at the feeling of my hand on his nape, and fuck if that didn’t make me want to squeeze a little harder.

“Just like that? No foreplay, no sweet talk? I see why they call you a gentleman,” he said, tone full of irony, referring back to what Vincent, the bartender, had said the other night.

“I guess you know better than most people, don't you?” I said, tone more seductive than I had meant to.

Get a grip, Andy.

Dan turned to face me, and because I was still leaning into him, it meant that there were very few inches of air between us.

I didn't try to make the distance larger, and neither did he.

I was all too aware of his scent, of his warmth, of the visible inches of skin at the base of his neck, teasing me infuriatingly, baby-blue eyes pinned on me.