“That’s not fair,” he says.
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re not getting classified information just because you asked nicely.”
“I didn’t ask nicely.”
“No,” I agree. “You really didn’t.”
There’s a pause.
Then he swings his leg over mine, settling into my lap in one smooth movement, like he’s decided this is happening and that’s the end of it.
I go still for a second.
Not because I don’t want it.
Because I very much do.
“Philip,” I say, low.
“Yes,” he replies, entirely too calm for someone who has just climbed onto me.
“That’s not going to help your case.”
“Feels like it might.”
His hands come to rest lightly on my cock, not gripping, just there, and I can feel the shift in his weight, the warmth of him, the way he hasn’t hesitated at all.
“Tell me,” he says.
“Still no.”
He leans in a fraction closer.
“Mark.”
There’s something in the way he says my name that makes it land differently.
“Persistent,” I say.
“Very.”
I watch him for a second.
The way he’s looking at me now.
“Fine,” I say.
His eyebrows lift slightly. “That was easier than expected.”
“I didn’t say I’d give you a good answer.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
I let out a quiet breath.
