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My eyebrows furrowed and I shook my head.
“Nope. I’m all yours this evening.” I swallowed as I said the words, but they weren’t as difficult to speak as I thought they would be.
Dawson’s shoulders loosened a fraction as he pursed his lips.
Some band I didn’t recognize came over the speakers, the singer practically screaming and making my ears ring as they sang about the sound of madness.
“How can you listen to this stuff? It’s just freaking noise,” I said.
Dawson huffed out a sigh of annoyance.
“Shinedown is not noise,” Dawson said defensively.
“Well, not to you. But it’s a little grating on my ears,” I half-whined, following it with a pout.
Dawson shot me a look that I could only describe as domineering, and I half worried he was going to pull this car over and murder me for my disdain of what was clearly his favorite music.
Way to go, Nolan.
“You know,” I started as I sat back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Technically, the winner should pick the music,” I quipped.
That seemed to alter his mood a bit, replacing the moody Dawson in front of me with the charismatic Dawson I was used to.
“Bratty boys don’t always get what they want. Sometimes they have to work for it,” he teased back, flashing a half-smile.
I couldn’t help that my mouth dropped open at his words.
Was he calling me a... brat?
The notion made me turn six shades of red, and Dawson only shook his head, a complete smile finally spreading across his face.
“Fucking hell, Nolan you need to stop doing that,” he said, chuckling.
“Doing what?”
“Being fucking cute,” he said, flashing me a grin as he hit his steering wheel.
Dawson thinks I’m... cute?
The words caused me to choke on my own air.
No fucking way.
He shook his head. “Driver picks the music, champ. Maybe if you’re a good boy though... you can pick it on the way home.” His voice was dark and enticing and my cock throbbed from the implications.
I shifted in my seat once more, casually adjusting myself in a way that wouldn’t draw attention.
The last thing I needed was for Dawson to know just how freaking turned on I was at the moment.
Because I most definitely found Dawson Richards more than cute.
He was freaking perfect.
Too perfect for someone like me, and I was dancing dangerously close to the edge of Heaven. So, I decided if I was going to die on this hill, I was going to go down in style.
“Oh, I can be very good,” I said, flashing him with a grin of my own. “With proper incentive, that is. I like rewards.”
“Of course you do,” he said as he continued to drive, turning up the radio.
