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Tyler extended one corded arm, still warm from the shower, and held it out near my lips. “Bon appetite.”
I pretended to bite him, just like I used to when we were kids. He’d never smelled this good, though. I was actually tempted to sink my teeth into him.
“Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong?”
I’d asked the question before, and he’d deflected with a shower. This time, rather than try to avoid the subject, he simply lolled his head back and looked up at me upside-down.
I kept kneading and rubbing, gliding my thumbs down the thick, striated muscle of his upper arm until I could feel the knots unraveling beneath my fingertips.
“It’s Lexus,” I ventured carefully. “Isn’t it?”
Tyler sighed heavily, and the sigh was a mixture of pleasure and frustration. I was bringing him one emotion. His girlfriend was providing the other.
“Yeah, it’s Lexus,” he admitted, letting his eyes close. Taking a long, deep breath, he let that one out too.
“It’s always Lexus.”
~ 13 ~
ZANE
“Would you like some wine?”
The door clicked behind us, but I only barely noticed. I was too busy staring. Ariana’s thighs looked fantastic in her pleated skirt, and even more so from behind.
“Is it good wine?”
“Umm… sure?”
“Then yes.”
She looked like the devil walking through my little apartment, swinging her purse, her high-heeled boots clicking rhythmically across the floor. Her hair and makeup were on point tonight. She’d even curled her eyeliner up at the corners in that cat-like way I loved so much.
Just one of the many perks of taking her out on a ‘date.’
“I usually don’t go home with a guy on the first date,” she teased, as if reading my mind.
“So why did you?”
She turned to face me and shrugged. “I dunno. I guess because you’re cute.”
The bottle was at the end of my tiny bar. I twisted the cork and it came out with a pop.
“Puppies are cute,” I admonished her. “Babies are cute.”
Tilting one of the only two wine glasses I owned, I began to pour. The deep red liquid splashed into the glass, looking like blood in the evening light.
“I am not cute,” I told her, approaching with a glass in each hand. Ariana’s skirt flared as she whirled to face me. Staring into my eyes, she took one of the glasses and lifted it gingerly to her lips.
“What are you, then?”
She took a sip. I watched her expression change; as the warm liquid reached the back of her throat.
“I’m a dashing, dangerous bachelor about to ply you with eight-dollar wine.”
