She shrugs. “What’s it to you?”
I lean in close. “We both know you only drink whiskey when you wanna get fucked.”
“Cute story. Who told you that?”
I chuckle, low and knowing. “No need for stories, babe. Just decades of history to prove it.”
She startles briefly, then looks me directly in the eyes and says, “So what if I do? You gonna do something about that?”
Her hands come to my tie, toying with it, twisting and tugging, practically putting me on my knees right here.
“That depends,” I say, calculated. Controlled.
“On?”
My mouth brushes her earlobe. I flick it with my tongue beforeI whisper, “On whether you’re wearing underwear under that dress.” I lower my voice. “Because the thought of you dripping down your thighs while you think about what I’m going to do to you…” I pause, just to torture her. “I’m going to lose my mind before we make it back to the room.”
A tiny gasp escapes her lips, and it’s deeply satisfying, more than I’d like to admit.
I grin, looking up at the bartender. “She’ll have another.” Then I’m back at her ear. “Drink up, babe.”
I kiss her cheek, then take a sip of my drink, savoring the burn as anticipation sparks through my veins.
I’ve been waiting so damn long for this.
Five months since she walked out of that wedding and back into my life.
Five months of wanting her so badly it’s made me stupid. Every smile, every laugh, every glance my way.
She has me wrapped around her goddamn pinky finger.
Jensen was right about more than one thing. Iampussy whipped.
I always have been.
For her.
It’s not like I didn’t know.I know.It’s just… suddenly, it’s crystal fucking clear who’s always held the power between us.
And it’s Jordan.
It’salwaysJordan.
Together? Her choice.
Broken up? Her call.
Friends with benefits? Her terms.
Cut me off completely? Her decision.
Friends without benefits? Her rules. Her lines.
And now those lines are somehow erasable because she says so? Because she’s turned on and lonely?
I’ve been both those things.
It hasn’t mattered.
