Page 32 of The Southern Submission

“Work is demanding. I’ve had to focus on that this week.” He runs a long finger along the rim of his tumbler, my eyes tracking the movement.

“Ah, the workaholic excuse,” I say with less of my usual venom. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. I’m trying to play up the fake dating thing, toning down my typical attitude, while not alerting Della to any changes in my behavior. It’s harder than I expected.

Della’s not even paying any attention. She’s deep in conversation with Luca, her body turned toward him, gin and tonic in hand and a smile on her face. Well, fine, I guess I don’t have to worry about her. I look back at Payton just as he adds asecond finger to the rim of his glass and stretches them off the edge, then pulls them back, almost like he’s finger-fucking it, and it makes me shiver. I can’t take my eyes off his fingers, the slow, methodical movements hypnotizing.

“I was thinking about you, even if I wasn’t talking to you.” His words are a quiet rumble, combined with the movement of his fingers, and the sea salt and amber smell of him so close to me sends goosebumps rising along the exposed skin of my arms. I drag my eyes away from his obscene fingers to his face and catch the way he’s watching me, taking in everything, seeing my reaction, and using it against me.

“You were thinking of me?” I cringe, realizing I said the words out loud, sounding needy.Stupid question, Ainsley.Fuck.

“Of course. You think we’d discover a new side of you that wants to play with me and I’d let you go back to denying yourself? No way.”

My eyes snap up, brows drawing together. “What was with you pulling the pen out of my hair and talking about role-playing?” I ask quietly, twisting the ends of my hair where it rests over my shoulder.

“Mmmm, that was giving in to a temptation that was a bit too strong and you nailing one of my favorites a little too well.”

“Yourfavorites?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. I look up, which is hard when I’m pressed so close to his side. I scoot away to see his face better. “What do you mean?”

He makes a face as I shift, reaching over to scoop up my legs and drape them over his knees so I’m half in his lap and facing him. He keeps his arm around my back, all but cradling me in this position, seeming pleased. I roll my eyes at him, but I don’t move away. I don’t think I’d get very far with how he’s holding me.

“Let’s just say if you’d shown up wearing glasses, we’d have ditched our friends and had some choice words on our way out of here that you likely wouldn’t have approved of.”

“You have a glasses fetish?” I ask, confused. “How do you make it through the day when so many people wear them?”

He takes a sip of bourbon. “It’s more specific than that. Sure you want to hear this?” His voice is low so only I can hear. He sets his tumbler down and places his hand on my bare leg, pressing his fingers under the edge of my skirt above my knee. I’m thankful it’s on the longer side, even if it’s higher up my thighs now.

“Well, now I do. I need to know what you’re talking about, exactly. Call it research so I can avoid an awkward situation in the future, given I do wear glasses on occasion.”

“Fuck me,” he curses softly. “I didn’t need to know that, and now…let’s say I have a very vivid imagination and it’s running wild.” He traces his thumb along the inside of my thigh and damn if it doesn’t feel like he’s touching me somewhere far more intimate.

“Okay, but that’s not explaining the glasses or the favorites comments.”

“You’re not going to like it. It's all about sex, and your propriety is too easily offended. I don't think you actually want to hear it, so I’ll be a good boyfriend on this one.” He looks away from me at that, his eyes straying to his glass of bourbon like he wants to finish what’s left but doesn’t want to remove his hand from my leg to take a sip.

I bristle, hating that he’s using this against me. He’s baiting me and it’s working a little too well. Now I need to know. “Damn you, Payton, that’s not fair. I'm perfectly capable of deciding what I can handle,” I hiss, sliding my eyes across the booth to Della and Luca, who are leaning toward eachother, having their own quiet exchange that’s not nearly as contentious as ours. “Explain yourself and stop dodging the subject.”

He gives in to his urge to drink his bourbon, takes the last gulp of the amber liquid, sets his tumbler down, and gives me a measured look before he finally shakes his head. “Fine, but I warned you. Drink that.” He nods at my vodka soda.

“You’re so annoying,” I complain, picking up my glass and waving him on.

“You know that for whatever else, I’m a nerd first and foremost. I have a hot teacher and sexy librarian fetish. I love the glasses, bun, tight skirt, white top. Especially with that stern look you do so well.” He indicates my outfit with a flick of his hand. “You walked in like you stepped right out of my dreams. The first thing I thought of was you scolding me until I pulled your hair down, wrapped it around my fist, pushed your skirt up, and fucked you over the table.”

I choke on my vodka soda, liquid spraying over the table as I cough in surprise. What. The. Fuck. I unwittingly walked into that just like I walked in looking like Payton’s wet dreams, one of hisfetishes, just by wearing business attire and being lazy with my hair. Had I left work later and been driving after dark, I may have been wearing my glasses, and then I’d have completed the look. And he’d have wanted me toscold him, which I do regularly with how mean I am to him.

I’ve been feeding into his fetish without knowing it just byexisting. I’m in so much trouble with him. I can't even use my normal armor to fight him because helikeswhen I’m mean. I catch Della’s eyes across the table as she checks in. I wheeze and sputter as Payton pats my back. I shake my head and roll my eyes, signaling I’m fine, even if I don’t look it. She bites her lip to keep from laughing at my look of discomfort.

“I said you wouldn’t like it,” Payton says, capturing my attention again. I glare at him in rebuke.

“No shit. I didn't think you were going to say you wanted to fuckme.I just thought you were going to talk about sex in general. It’s different.”

“It’s a general fetish. You just happened to embody it tonight looking like you do. It’s distracting.” He looks away and picks up his tumbler, only to see it’s empty before setting it back down.

“I would’ve gone home to change if you hadn’t insisted I meet you here. We could’ve avoided this awkwardness.”

“Noted,” he says quietly. “But for the record, I really fucking like it on you, Ainsley.”

I laugh, and it surprises us both, which has him looking over at me with a perturbed expression that’s more suited to me.

“It’s funny that you're surly and not smiling for once. Knowing I’m making you uncomfortable just by showing up like this is actually pretty great. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more it makes me laugh. Hold on,” I say, giggling and turning away from him, rummaging through my purse while Payton glares.

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