She scoffs again at her phone and rolls those damn eyes.
Me: I think you’d enjoy my tie wrapped around those dainty wrists.
Ava: Get over yourself.
Me: Ooohhh, I hit a nerve.
Ava: You hit all the nerves.
Me: Yeah, I do.
I chuckle again because she walked right into that.
Ava: You’re a pig.
Me: You’re spicy.
Me: You still didn’t answer my question from earlier.
Ava: I thought you answered them for me already, Mr. Know-it-all.
Me: So you admit I’ve turned you on?
Ava: I didn’t say that.
Me: You don’t have to. I can see it.
Ava: See what?
Me: I bet if I walked over there right now and pulled you out of your chair up against my chest, your nipples would be pebbled hard against my chest, and fuck that does something for me.
Ava: You wouldn’t dare.
Me: No, I wouldn’t be that obvious.
I get up and make my way to the bar, ordering the ladies another round of shots. There’s no way I’m doing anymore after that tequila, but I need to know.
Ava’s eyes are rounded wide with apprehension because she has zero clue of what I’m about to do as I saunter over to the table to deliver shots. The woman did dare me though, and I don’t back down. I walk up behind her and lean over her back to set the shots on the table, careful to let the inner part of my forearms skim back across her breasts as I slowly pull away. She inhales swiftly, and I chuckle darkly beside her ear on my retreat.
“Enjoythese last shots ladies!”
“Thank you!” they exclaim, none the wiser.
I walk back to my table, satisfied, and plop down into my chair, grinning like the cat who just stole the milk. Ava just stares at me, shot untouched.
Me: I win.
Her face flushes.
Me: Now answer me. Is there anything I can help you with?
Ava: I hate you.
Me: I know.
Ava: You hate me.
Me: Maybe.
