Page 100 of If It Can't Be Us

She frantically scans the room, grimacing.

“Eight, seven…”

She makes a face that says,maybe.

“Six, five…” Her mannerisms are killing me.

“Umm… I don’t know, probably Noah,” she says casually, gesturing toward the bartender.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim. “All this time we’ve been coming here, and you’re secretly jonesing for the young bartender?” I laugh and lean in closer. “Should I tell him? Hey, mate!” I call out, not loud enough for Noah to hear, but enough to get a rise out of her.

“No! GOD, don’t you dare!” she says, grabbing my arm and pointing a finger at me, her eyes wide and scolding.

“You like robbing the cradle, yeah? Is he even old enough to work here?” I tease with a grin.

“Well, I should hope so, didn’t you hire him?” she rebuts, crossing her arms. “Sure, he’s a few years younger than me and has a bit of a baby face, but he’s a good-looking man… boy… man-boy,” she stutters, flustered. “And I had to pick someone… he was the best choice with the ten seconds I had. I bet Noah’s a fantastic lay,” she adds with a smile, clearly trying to convince herself more than me.

“Oh, I bet,” I say, nodding in fake agreement. “Super experienced, that one, with all his twenty-four years of life.” I lean closer, my hand resting on her thigh. “I bet he can’t make you come like I do,” I whisper in her ear, “you know that thing I do with my tongue that you like so much?” I pull back, giving her a pointed look. “I’m just sayin’…” I shrug and grin, challenging her.

I see her eyes light up, a spark of mischief igniting, just as I knew it would. I love this part—whatever comes next is what I love about Vivian. I’ve just turned her on, and now she’s going to try to one-up me. That’s how this goes.

Noah sets another round of drinks down for us, and I can’t help but smirk. Vivian just smiles confidently, raising an eyebrow at me.

She’s still in her work clothes—wearing all white and looking sexy as hell, like always. Her top is one of those suit vests that’s appropriate for work but low-cut enough that I’ve glanced at her tits more times than I cancount—waiting for the moment I can rip it off her and take one into my mouth.

Vivian undoes the top button of her vest, giving me an unobstructed view of her cleavage. She then casually slides off her stool and stands between my legs, facing me. Her hand glides up my chest as she bites her bottom lip, eyes locked on mine. She cups the back of my neck and pulls me forward.

I chuckle softly, aware that people might be watching our little seductive show.

She leans in close to my ear. “You know that thing you do with your tongue?” she whispers, her breath hot against my ear.

I nod, savoring every tantalizing word.

“That’s what I think about when my hand is between my thighs… imagining it’s your tongue. The way you slowly drag it up the center, making me want more. How you tease me with flicks until I’m aching, begging for you to taste me. That’s what I crave when you’re not with me.” She leans back slightly, her eyes drifting down to my hardening cock, undeniably straining against the inseam of my pants. A sly smile curls on her lips, and she lifts her brows, fully satisfied with the reaction she’s provoked. She settles back into her chair and casually buttons her vest, her movements slow and deliberate. She plucks a grape from the charcuterie board and pops it into her mouth with a knowing grin.

Wealwayshave to get the charcuterie.

“You lose,” she says arrogantly.

“You don’t play very fair,” I reply.

“What’s not fair about it? There aren’t any ground rules.”

“Well, there should be.” I sip my old fashioned, unable to shake the image of her. It’s pathetic how easily she can turn me on. “Do you really think about that… when you touch yourself?” I ask, needing to know, lowering my voice.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and she leans in closer, her voice a sultry whisper. “Every. Single. Time.” She bites her lip, letting the silence hang, her gaze never wavering. My pulse quickens, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot.

“Damn,” I murmur, my mind racing. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

She laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Only if you’re lucky.”

I let out a laugh. She’s good, but so am I. “I know you think you’ve won, but after that confession, I think I’m the real winner tonight,” I say, a smug grin spreading across my face. “Knowing you think of me while you touch yourself.” I relax into my chair, getting comfortable, ready to drag this on all night as she gives me the evil eye. “God, I must be really good if that’s what you envision when you get yourself off,” I joke, pausing to let the words sink in. “Will you let me watch?”

She cocks a brow. “Maybe,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “Do you think about me?”

“Do I think about you?” I rub my thumb and index finger on my chin, pretending to ponder.

She folds her arms and purses her lips, clearly unamused. “We are not leaving here until you admit it,” she says confidently.

---