Page 58 of Pretty Please Me
Nice. You must be turning women away left and right when you go out.
I read the message and look at Sam in confusion, and he shrugs. “I’m just feeling him out. Trying to answer that list of questions.”
Trent
I’ve been known to turn a few heads. It’s hard stepping back into the dating world after being out of it for so long. I feel like I’m miles behind the times even though I’m only 28. It’s freeing, though.
Trent: What can a guy do to get a better view? ??
I’m sure it is…
What view did you have in mind? I’m a lady, after all, Trent…
Sam groans and tosses the phone down, steam practically spewing from his ears as he drags his hand down his face.
I smile because I don’t know what other face to make. This is absolutely insanity, and a part of me enjoys seeing him so bothered by it while the other part feels guilty. The two emotions play tug of war in my chest, and I take another swig of whiskey to quiet both sides.
Trent responds quickly.
Trent
I’m usually a boob man ????
My mouth drops open, and my breath hitches at his straightforward response. Sam’s wearing a pained expression and is practically sitting on his hands to keep from throwing my phone across the room.
Biting my lip nervously, I wait for Sam’s directions.
He avoids my gaze and unbuttons his collared shirt, revealing a white undershirt underneath, then collapses back on the couch with his arms spread wide. His fist is clenched around his glass of whiskey.
Maybe it’s the booze making me feel braver than I am, but I climb into his lap, straddling him and wrapping my bare legs around him completely. “Hey, if you insist on us doing this, why don’t we have a little fun?” I lift my chin and offer him a cheeky grin.
He grips my ass and pulls me flush to him before running his hands up my back and underneath my white t-shirt, stopping just below the sheer black lace bra he bought me on our shopping trip. His eyes grow hazy with lust as he slowly grazes over my curves as if trying to memorize my body with his hands.
“Are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?” He laughs, but his hands pause and his hungry eyes meet mine. “What did you have in mind?”
I explore his body in return, enjoying how his hard muscle flexes and ripples as he moves. My fingers drift up his abdomen until they find his broad chest, which is so perfect it could be sculpted from stone. Unlike Trent, Sam’s body drips with masculinity. He’s got the sexiest coating of chest hair sprinkled over his pecks and a line of hair leading down his stomach until it disappears under the waist of his pants.
He’s chiseled and hard built with muscles he earned climbing and pushing his body to the limits. As a yoga instructor, I’m quite familiar with human anatomy, but Sam’s physique is on a whole new level. His tanned skin and deep brown eyes contrast his light brown hair, which has a touch of curl when it grows out.
Lost in my thoughts, my hands drift lower toward the waist of his jeans as if they have a mind of their own. He clears his throat and grips my hand, halting my curious perusal. “I asked you a question.”
“Oh… right…” I strain to remember what we were talking about. “I thought we could have a little fun, make a game out of it, you know, to keep ourselves entertained while we press Trent for the answers to my questions.”
He narrows his eyes, still holding my wrist in his firm grip. “What kind of game?”
I shrug and bat my eyes, laying on the innocence. “We could bet on his answers. Loser has to strip?”
He releases my hand and rubs the stubble on his jaw as he considers me. Setting his glass down, he pours himself more whiskey, and I recognize the glimmer of mischief in his eye. “I must warn you, I’m pretty good at reading people. I’m not sure it’ll be a fair competition. He tugs his shirt away from his chest.
As I consider him, I let my eyes drift over his broad chest and then back down. “I think I’m willing to take that risk.” I move to the other side of the couch and sit crisscross as I face him. The alcohol warms me from the inside out, and my neck feels flushed as I pick up my phone. “Let’s start with something easy.”
I’d be willing to send you a peek if you agree to answer some basic get-to-know-you questions. I should at least feel like I’m caught up on your life before I send nudes.
Trent
Sounds reasonable. What did you have in mind?
Sam watches over my shoulder as I type, his thigh pressed against my knee. I dart my eyes over and scan his face, looking for his approval, and when he gives me a slight nod, I type out my first question.
