Did he suddenly have a change of heart and decide he didn’t want to have any hanky-panky while we were working together?
It was making me uneasy, and I did not get uneasy. This man just had a way of making me feel weird emotions.
“Never, Tammy,” he said, breaking me out of my internal debate. “Never out of terror. Only from pure, unadulterated pleasure.”
The sound of a groan reverberated through the air, and I realized it had come from me.
“Don’t say stuff like that if you have no intention of acting on it,” I told him, sick of wondering what his reasoning was and recognizing that my sexual frustration was at an all-time high.
“You asking me to move into your room with you?” he asked.
Was I?
There were definitely perks to that, and I wanted those perks. But I also found I liked the idea of him just lying in bed with me some nights and talking, reading books, maybe snuggling up to him while we watched a show.
Was he the snuggling type? He’d let me snuggle close to him that first night together, but most men were okay with it if they got sex in return. It didn’t mean they liked it all the time, though. Only one way to find out…
“Yeah, I think I am,” I told him assertively.
If this was some kind of holdup for him, I needed him to know how I felt so we could get past this obstacle. I was not leaving any room for miscommunication.
“I want you in my room for as long as you’re here, with all the perks that arrangement comes with.”
He gave a knowing smile, one that spoke volumes. “Glad to hear it. How about we fix that tonight? I’ll move my stuff over and see how that goes.”
Tonight. I could work with that.
Plus, it would give me something to look forward to for the rest of the day.
Hours later,that sexual frustration was no less calm and restrained. If anything, having him close, but not close enough to really feel his body heat as I worked my shift behind the bar, just made my libido that much more heightened.
Which, apparently, I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding.
Ray watched me like he had all the time in the world. His fingers lazily tapping against the bar; a slow smirk building like he knew something I didn’t. Or worse…like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
And instead of letting me suffer in peace, he leaned in just enough to become a problem.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking forward to after work tonight,” he said, that cocky grin of his spread across his face.
“Maybe you should wipe that smug grin off your face and perhaps be a bit more worried about what I have planned for tonight,” I shot back.
He paused to take in what I’d said. “Why? Are you about to tell me you’re into some weird, freaky kind of stuff that I might not like?”
“What exactly do you consider ‘weird freaky’?” I asked, leaning forward, my forearms now resting on the bar top.
I couldn’t tell if he was trying to get a rise out of me or being serious. Never one to back down from a challenge, I gave him what he’d asked for.
Two can play this game, Ray.
“You asking me to lick hollandaise sauce off your ass cheeks or something,” I deadpanned.
I heard a glass break next to me and turned to see Axel wide-eyed and staring straight at me. A fraction of a second later, he turned his head, still bug-eyed, and then slowly bent to pick up the glass he’d dropped.
Well, shit. I’d likely scarred that man for life in my attempt to be funny.
Not the man in front of me, though. Oh no. That man had the biggest grin on his face. Not because he agreed with my answer, I was sure, but because he found it extremely hilarious. His shaking shoulders proved he was getting a good chuckle right now.
Whatever.
