irony without the slightest trace of embarrassment or awkwardness. It had been downright charming to watch.
He hadn’t even reacted badly to my implied jab at him. If anything, he’d been relieved. Simon had always had the slightest twinge of jealousy in his voice when he “joked” about my date with the fireman, and I still wasn’t quite sure what I’d been thinking when I invited Arthur along on our date.
Maybe I’d just wanted to see how he’d react.
Maybe I’d wanted to reassure him.
A jealous man was always a mixed bag, of course. It was usually overwhelming and stifling, a caustic element that ate a relationship from inside out. It suggested a lack of trust, a lack of confidence.
On the other hand, it was also fucking sexy. At least in appropriate doses, which is what Simon had been giving me so far. He wanted me, yes, but he wasn’t about to go all psycho over it. If anything, it was charming that he was so hung up on a “date” I’d had years ago with a friend.
Charming, and ridiculously hot .
Of course, that obsession also gave me way more power over Simon than I should’ve had after so many drinks, and after so many hours spent staring at that delicious blue-grey suit and tie.
After noting the way his pants were snug enough to hug his ass.
Tight enough to make it painfully obvious he’d been battling a hard-on for the entire damned night.
Oh, baby. They say power corrupts, and mine had gone straight to my head.
Or maybe, more accurately, it had gone straight between my legs.
“So, did you like Arthur?” I asked Simon innocently, after my friends had called it a night. The loud drum and bass tune coming from the speakers was resonating in time with the pulsing of my body, and the stiflingly hot air was making it harder to breathe.
I finished off the last sip of my strawberry margarita, chuckling as I slid my other hand along Simon’s knee. He’d made the mistake of sitting next to me in our booth, trying to box me in against the wall and the table. It was a tactic I’d been making him regret all night long, touching him and rubbing against him at regular intervals.
Much like our professional relationship, the date had quickly devolved into a back-and-forth power struggle.
One I was determined to win.
One that, judging by the way he’d failed to battle the hard-on all night long, I had already won.
Simon grunted a non-answer to my question, and I decided to go in for the kill. I leaned my body into his, pushing my breasts into his arm as I positioned my lips right next to his ear.
“I said , did you like Arthur?” I repeated in a low, sultry drawl. The dark stubble on his cheeks looked insanely sexy, and I had to resist the urge to run my tongue along his hot flesh. Being too blatant would only cost me points.
“Yeah, he’s great,” Simon said over the loud, slow beat of the music. Looking at me with those fucking perfect-blue eyes, his mouth curled into a grin. “Exactly how many cocktails did you drink tonight, Em?”
I giggled, amused that he was resorting to such an obvious strategy to gain back the ground he’d been losing ever since he opened the door to his hotel room. Tonight, there would be only one winner, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.
“Let me up,” I said, and before he could react I hopped onto his lap. His hard cock pressed tight against pants, and white-hot desire shot through me as I felt it jutting into me. I took just a second to enjoy the sensation before climbing off, taking him by the hand and pulling him out from the booth.
“Get up,” I insisted, guiding him towards the now mostly-deserted dance floor. The bass echoed out a dirty rhythm that reverberated in my ribcage, an open invitation for debauchery. I pushed myself against Simon’s long, hard body, his muscles as stable as if I’d been leaning into a wall.
A wonderfully warm, masculine wall that smelled like sex and looked at me like I was the only woman on Earth.
As it
He hadn’t even reacted badly to my implied jab at him. If anything, he’d been relieved. Simon had always had the slightest twinge of jealousy in his voice when he “joked” about my date with the fireman, and I still wasn’t quite sure what I’d been thinking when I invited Arthur along on our date.
Maybe I’d just wanted to see how he’d react.
Maybe I’d wanted to reassure him.
A jealous man was always a mixed bag, of course. It was usually overwhelming and stifling, a caustic element that ate a relationship from inside out. It suggested a lack of trust, a lack of confidence.
On the other hand, it was also fucking sexy. At least in appropriate doses, which is what Simon had been giving me so far. He wanted me, yes, but he wasn’t about to go all psycho over it. If anything, it was charming that he was so hung up on a “date” I’d had years ago with a friend.
Charming, and ridiculously hot .
Of course, that obsession also gave me way more power over Simon than I should’ve had after so many drinks, and after so many hours spent staring at that delicious blue-grey suit and tie.
After noting the way his pants were snug enough to hug his ass.
Tight enough to make it painfully obvious he’d been battling a hard-on for the entire damned night.
Oh, baby. They say power corrupts, and mine had gone straight to my head.
Or maybe, more accurately, it had gone straight between my legs.
“So, did you like Arthur?” I asked Simon innocently, after my friends had called it a night. The loud drum and bass tune coming from the speakers was resonating in time with the pulsing of my body, and the stiflingly hot air was making it harder to breathe.
I finished off the last sip of my strawberry margarita, chuckling as I slid my other hand along Simon’s knee. He’d made the mistake of sitting next to me in our booth, trying to box me in against the wall and the table. It was a tactic I’d been making him regret all night long, touching him and rubbing against him at regular intervals.
Much like our professional relationship, the date had quickly devolved into a back-and-forth power struggle.
One I was determined to win.
One that, judging by the way he’d failed to battle the hard-on all night long, I had already won.
Simon grunted a non-answer to my question, and I decided to go in for the kill. I leaned my body into his, pushing my breasts into his arm as I positioned my lips right next to his ear.
“I said , did you like Arthur?” I repeated in a low, sultry drawl. The dark stubble on his cheeks looked insanely sexy, and I had to resist the urge to run my tongue along his hot flesh. Being too blatant would only cost me points.
“Yeah, he’s great,” Simon said over the loud, slow beat of the music. Looking at me with those fucking perfect-blue eyes, his mouth curled into a grin. “Exactly how many cocktails did you drink tonight, Em?”
I giggled, amused that he was resorting to such an obvious strategy to gain back the ground he’d been losing ever since he opened the door to his hotel room. Tonight, there would be only one winner, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.
“Let me up,” I said, and before he could react I hopped onto his lap. His hard cock pressed tight against pants, and white-hot desire shot through me as I felt it jutting into me. I took just a second to enjoy the sensation before climbing off, taking him by the hand and pulling him out from the booth.
“Get up,” I insisted, guiding him towards the now mostly-deserted dance floor. The bass echoed out a dirty rhythm that reverberated in my ribcage, an open invitation for debauchery. I pushed myself against Simon’s long, hard body, his muscles as stable as if I’d been leaning into a wall.
A wonderfully warm, masculine wall that smelled like sex and looked at me like I was the only woman on Earth.
As it
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