I dug it.
“I can always send flowers and chocolates too, but I thought since most people would sell their left nut to get tickets to the match on Saturday, I figured it was as good as anything.” I grinned.
“Well I don’t have a left nut to sell,” she pointed out.
I leaned forward, looking at her lips, which were full and plump and slightly parted. Her breath came a little quicker. Her pupils dilated and I could bet her pulse was starting to race. Just like mine.
I turned her on.
I was in business.
“I’m very aware you don’t have a left nut. I remember very clearly what’s between your legs, love,” I whispered, my voice husky. Fuck me, I was starting to get a hard on.
Morgan’s cheeks flamed red, her breathing shallow.
“Come to the match. I can promise you I’ll put on a hell of a show.” I was laying it on thick. I enjoyed messing with her. She was getting flustered and trying not to let on that she was.
“Maybe. I have a busy weekend.” She glanced over my shoulder. Anywhere but at me. Because she was getting hot. I could practically smell the pheromones.
“How about this, I’ll leave the tickets at the box office under your name. Morgan Carter.” I said her name slowly. Deliberately. “I hope you come.” I lingered on the word come. My eyes meeting hers.
She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Licked her lips.
“Okay,” she said softly.
I smiled.
She turned on her heel and walked back to the table where her co-workers were watching us.
Had she really just walked away from me?
That was it?
Hell no.
I followed her. Fuck if I’d let her turn her back on me. I was used to calling the shots in all things.
Everyone’s eyes widened as I approached and of course Morgan looked anywhere but at me.
“So you’re Morgan’s friends?” I asked the table at large.
No one said anything for a beat.
“Uh, we work together,” a portly man with a receding hairline said, his eyes bugging out of his round face.
“Well, any friend of Morgan’s is a friend of mine. Next round is on me.”
“Thanks, mate, that’s nice of you,” a thin fellow wearing a bright yellow shirt said. I noted how he sat close to Morgan. Almost touching her. The man met my eyes, his expression a mixture of awe and wariness.
Were he and Morgan dating? Was that why she was giving me the brush off?
She inched away from the guy in the yellow shirt. Enough to make it obvious she didn’t want to be sitting that close to him. No, definitely not together.
I grinned.
“You going to introduce me to your friends, Morgan?” I asked her. She fidgeted in her seat, smoothing a napkin between her fingers and not looking at me again.
Her cheeks were still red.
