“Right?” Mark lifted his shot glass back, his throat moving as he worked the alcohol down,
I could almost imagine a scenario where a bead of whiskey rolled down that perfect throat, and in an effort to save all mankind from destruction, I offer to remove said drop of whiskey…with my tongue, only to find out that my touch is the only thing needed to save Mark from the zombie apocalypse. Well, that and my body.
All of a sudden, I see hands in front of my face. Mark’s huge hands. “Yo, you literally just spaced out for a solid three minutes.”
“Too much of this.” I jabbed a finger at the shots.
Mark smirked and then unsteadily stood, snatched my keys from the counter, and did something on his cell.
“Gotta pee,” I blurted, then stumbled toward the bathroom feeling like my mind was going to explode. Was I having a panic attack? Was it the alcohol? And why the hell was I smiling at myself in the mirror? I did my business then came back to the bar top almost missing the stool as I plopped down and smiled.
“Heyyyyyy.” I leaned toward him.
“Heyyyyyy.” He copied me. “I’m calling us an Uber, all right?”
“Good idea.” I yawned. “I need a Red Bull. ’Scuse me, sir?” I rapped my knuckles on the countertop. “A Red Bull?”
One came sliding down the bar top. Mark intercepted it, cracked it open, chugged half, then handed it to me.
I grumbled something like germs and then felt my entire body tense up when I put the can to my mouth.
It was almost like kissing him.
What was I thinking?
I hated him!
I did not want to kiss him.
Ever.
I jumped a foot when Mark’s hand came out to the small of my back to steady me. “It’s almost here.”
“Oh, I need to pay—”
“Took care of it when you were in the bathroom,” he said simply.
“But the Red Bull,” I argued.
“I slid him a five. We’re all good.” He put his hands on my shoulders and led me out of the bar into the night.
It was still lightish out even though it was around eight.
A nice black chevy SUV pulled up. “You Mark?”
“Yup.” Mark opened my door for me. I slid across the leather, suddenly exhausted, and once Mark was sitting next to me, and we were moving, I laid my head on his shoulder.
And it wasn’t my imagination. He laid his head on top of mine like we’d done it a million times.
And then maybe whiskey made people hallucinate, but my hand was moving across my own lap and onto his!
Traitorous body parts!
His leg tensed, and then his hand slowly moved to my thigh, gripping it with capable fingertips, digging in just enough for me to wonder if he was going to slide his hand up.
Damn it, my Spanx!
Why did I have to be wearing Spanx?
This was the wrong time!
Bad timing.
I slowly started to pant as his hand slid higher, and then I may have let out a moan and arched a bit as he exhaled across my neck, his tongue finding a sensitive spot below my ear that had lust pounding through my system.
“My roommate’s gone,” he blurted once the SUV stopped in front of a nice apartment complex that I’d checked out earlier that year. It was right on a lake and newer construction.
“Okay.” My mouth was making decisions my body most definitely could not cash out. I mean, right?
I was going alone into Mark’s apartment.
By choice!
And he was holding my hand.
I looked down at our hands pressed together and felt like I was living outside my body; how did I get from a potential car ride home to walking into enemy territory?
He unlocked the door to 2C and let me in.
Darkness blanketed everything as the door clicked shut. I could feel his body heat as he stood behind me, then put his hand on my shoulders.
I let out a little shudder then asked, “Which one’s your room?”
Mark spun me around so fast I nearly fell, only to have him brace me up against the closest wall, his mouth molded against mine.
“Can’t wait,” he said between kisses, and then he hiked up my dress.
Oh. Shit.
Chapter Three
Mark
Was I really doing this? Seducing the girl who had driven me crazy for four straight years of college only to continue on with her torture by working across the street from me?
But God, I’d wanted her since Freshman year.
She was so soft in my hands as our mouths fused together. She didn’t try to force her tongue in my mouth but let me coax her into submission as I pressed my body against hers. My dick couldn’t get any harder, at least so I thought.
And then, I slid my hands up her thighs and felt something. “What’s this?”
“Oh shit,” she mumbled. “That is, those are, I mean—”
“Are you wearing Spanx?” I asked with a giant uncontainable grin.
Her cheeks flushed bright red. “Let me just go—”
“Oh no.” I kept her pinned in place. “Allow me…”
“Mark,” she warned.
“Olivia,” I moaned, using one hand to find the top of the high-waisted Spanx and tugging them down her perfect ass. “We all have our kink.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” Her eyes widened.
“I always imagined peeling these torture devices off a sexy as hell woman and being the guy that got to kiss his way around all that punished skin, all those gorgeous, trapped curves. It’s like my fucking birthday.” I shuddered against her when I was able to pull the rest of the black Spanx off her feet. Then I tossed them midair and slowly unzipped the back of her dress, bringing the zipper down, down, down… until I grabbed at the front scoop neck top, pulling the loose dress off and shoving it to the floor.
She was wearing a black strapless bra, her chest rising and falling like a hummingbird’s wings.
We locked eyes. Hers had always been this almost cruelly cold blue color
