I set my beer down on the table.
I pushed back my chair and came around the table.
She didn't move away. I stopped in front of her chair and she looked up at me.
I took her face in both hands and kissed her.
She kissed me back immediately, fingers twisting into my tee, and I felt that from my jaw to my boots. I pulled back just enough to see her face. Her eyes were dark and her mouth still parted and she had the look of someone who'd just lost the first round and hadn't decided if that was a problem.
"Still want to play that game?" I said.
"I wasn't playing," she said.
"No," I said. "You weren't."
I walked her backward into the hallway and down to the spare room and she came without a word.
I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her across my lap in one clean move.
Her breath caught sharp.
"Shannon's the name you use when you want a reaction," I said, one hand pressed flat at her lower back. "I told you what I'd do about it."
"You did," she said, into the bedding.
"And you said it anyway."
"I said it because I wanted —"
I brought my palm down flat and deliberate on the soft flesh of her ass cheek, and the rest of that sentence disappeared into agasp she couldn't have caught if she'd tried. I held her there and ran my palm slow and certain over where I'd landed it, and the sound she made was exactly what I'd expected and nothing I'd been ready for.
"What did you want?" I said.
A beat of silence. "You know what I wanted."
"Say it."
Her fingers went tight in the bedding. "This," she said. "I wanted this."
"Good girl." I brought my palm down a second time and she pressed back into it hard. I steadied her and pulled her up. "We're not done."
"Obviously," she said, breathless, the dry edge still in it even now, and that alone made me want to start over.
I turned her to face me and got my hands on her hips. I tipped her chin up. That mouth — all that smart talk, and now mine.
"I've been thinking about those lips wrapped around my cock since the day you caught me going out that window," I said. "Every time that mouth gave me grief, this was where I was going with it."
"On your knees, sweetheart."
She went, not fast and not reluctantly, just with that particular quality of deciding to do something and then doing it completely. She wrapped her hand around my cock and looked up at me with those hazel eyes.
"This is what happens to brats who say things they know they shouldn't," I said.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said, and ran her tongue up the underside of my cock from root to tip, watching my face the whole way.
My hand went into her hair. "Do that again."
She did. Slower.
