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She wanted to do this that way? Tease, torment, and turn on to get the win? Oh, he could definitely do that.
During the next round, he marked three spots on each of her six cards that hadn’t been called, making them ineligible for the win.
She retaliated in the next game by “accidentally” spilling some of her beer on his cards and then smearing the bingo dabber marks he’d made when she used a napkin to clean up the mess.
A few games later, he missed three numbers when she accidentally on purpose dropped a pretzel down the deep V of her sweater that clung to her tits for dear life (he totally got that) and tugged it low while she fished it from between her pillowy tits.
He really didn’t have a choice after that. He pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and flexed his forearms while that jagoff Andy called four numbers. Astrid missed at least two hits on her cards. It was in that moment that he promised to send his youngest sister a gift card to her favorite bookstore for turning him on to the whole henley/forearm combo as a tool of distraction.
It went on like that, her tit for his tat, for another thirty minutes before Astrid’s outraged holler of “you’re going down, Matsen” had everyone in the pub turning to look at them instead of their own bingo cards.
“Okay, you two, I’ve had enough,” the woman behind the bar said, cutting through the pub patrons’ chatter. “You’re out of here.”
“Aunt Gilly,” Nola pleaded. “It’s Astrid.”
“That may be so, but I’m not gonna have the cops pop down here and hurt my chances of selling this place because one of these two take the shenanigans too far—especially not when your great-uncles are here.”
A man Nola had said was her uncle Mikey lifted his right leg, showing off an ankle monitor. “I gave this as my home address. Can’t have them figure out it’s a pub.”
“Sorry, Gilly and Mikey,” Astrid said as she pushed back her chair and stood up. “This is on me. I guess I got a little too into bingo tonight.”
“You’re a sweetheart,” Aunt Gilly said as she flipped the bar towel over her shoulder and shot Cal a dirty look. “I’m sure that one egged you on.”
“Oh, he really did,” Astrid said, all contrite and innocent as if she hadn’t nearly flashed her tits at him earlier to miss a number. “I should have known better than to have let him goad a response out of me.”
“Me goad you?” Cal scoffed. “You were the one who started it.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” the bartender said with a stern look. “Now go on, out, you two.”
While all of Astrid’s friends and Fallon made all sorts of sympathetic noises about it being unfair while she pulled the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder, Blackburn just rolled his eyes and shoved Astrid’s six-pack of Diet Coke into his arms and told him to get the fuck out of here. And that’s how he ended up outside in the pouring rain, cutting his stride short so he was walking at the same pace as Astrid around the corner to the door that lead to their lobby. Of course she just sped up, hustling at double her normal speed to try to beat him to the door. Which, of course, just made him go faster. By the time they got to the door, they were both soaked through and out of breath.
Astrid reached for the keypad, but Cal got there first and punched in the code for the lobby door. Soda in one hand, he pulled the door open with the other and held it so Astrid could walk through ahead of him.
“I got here first. I’ll hold it for you,” he said. “Go dry off, sweetheart.”
She started inside and then stopped halfway through and took a step back out into the rain.
A particularly fat drop of rain landed on the middle of her forehead and started a slow roll down the bridge of her nose. She didn’t even flinch.
“No way. You’re not winning at bingo or at whatever this is.” She reached behind him for the edge of the door, her arm brushing against his. “You go ahead, big boy. Wouldn’t want all that sugar of yours to melt out here.”
The woman was stubborn and competitive, but she’d also just misplayed things. In order to hold the door, she had to get close to him. Close enough he could see the individual strands of her long, dark hair plastered against her cheek. Close enough he could see the dare-you spark in her dark eyes. Close enough that when she parted her full, pink lips a second before he dipped his head, he could feel the earth moving beneath their feet.
The second his lips crashed into hers, she let go of the door and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same desperate need. It was good—so fucking good—but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Holding her six-pack of Diet Coke by a hole in the plastic ring, he slid his hands down her back to her round ass and pulled her tight to him. She let out a moan of appreciation against his mouth and rubbed herself against his achingly hard cock. It was all he could do not to strip her down right now, right here on the stoop as the rain pelted them. He held tight to that last weakened thread of control and instead cupped her ass and lifted her up, settling her more firmly against his dick. Even with all of the layers of wet clothes between them, the heat from her sweet pussy nearly undid him.
She broke the kiss, laying her forehead against his. “This has to be the last time.”
“Agreed,” he managed to get out, and then he was through the door and halfway up the first steps faster than a breakaway shot.
And then she kissed him again as he practically sprinted the rest of the way up to her floor, knowing full well that he would have agreed to just about anything as long as she didn’t stop.
Chapter Twenty
Later she’d be impressed that Cal had carried her (and her Diet Coke!) up three flights of stairs without getting winded, unlocked his apartment door without breaking their kiss, and kicked the door shut behind them without letting go of her while she slid down his body.
Right now she was too distracted to appreciate all of that because Cal Matsen was stripping and there was no way she was going to devote even a smidge of attention to anything else.
His shoes and socks went first. Feet were not her thing. Toes? Arches? Smooth heels? No judgment for the folks who put that on their list, but it wasn’t on hers.
