Page 46 of Fight or Flight
“Because it’s fun?” he asks warily.
“Yup. And because you like it as much as I do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.” I close the distance between us so we’re toe-to-toe. “And it’s fine if you can’t, or don’t want to, admit it.” I lower my voice. “I know the truth, and deep down, so do you.”
“So fucking arrogant,” he grumbles.
“Is it arrogance when it’s true?”
“There you go trying to get me to swing at you again.”
“Or maybe I’m just letting you know that it’s okay to use me to get whatever’s got your panties in a bunch out of your system.”
“And what makes you think I want to use you for that?”
I flick my gaze to the noticeable bulge in his shorts. He’s not completely hard, but he’s definitely got something going on under there.
“Fuck off,” he snaps.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. Boners happen, and they seem to happen a lot around me.”
“Are you going to give me the card?”
“Are you going to ask nicely?”
He balls his fists at his sides and squeezes his hands so tight his arms shake. “Give me the card.”
“No.”
“And what are you going to do if I take it from you?” He arches one eyebrow in challenge.
I drag my teeth over my lower lip. “Like I said earlier, you’re welcome to try.”
I can see the conflict in his eyes as he looks between my face and my crotch a few times, like he’s trying to decide if he should go after the card or punch me.
His gaze lingers on my crotch, and his eyes widen as my dick thickens until I’m half hard and tenting the front of my sweats. I slowly rub one hand over my cock, and he quickly returns his gaze to mine.
He wants to start something; I can see it plain as day on his face, but I can also see that he isn’t ready to admit that to anyone, not even himself.
“Go ahead.” I tug on the waistband of my sweats in a little taunt. “You know you want to.”
Something in his expression changes, and he shoves his hand down the front of my pants.
His fingers brush against the hard ridge of my dick, and the flare of pleasure that rockets through me makes my balls tighten and my cock pulse.
He rips his hand away like he’s been burned, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open in surprise.
I can’t help chuckling at his reaction. “Are you really that surprised that my dick is in my pants?”
He levels a glare at me and slides his hand under my waistband again.
This time he slips his fingers under my boxer briefs too, and the drag of his warm skin against mine sends a pulse of heat through me as he searches out the card.
I stand there, passive and silent, as he fishes around for a second. Then he shoots me a triumphant smirk as his fingers close around the card.
I grab his wrist as he starts to pull it free, trapping his hand so it’s still buried down the front of my pants.
