Ugh. Stop with the friendly thoughts!
Scott chuckled softly in response, but he didn’t say anything further about Tim the Trickster. “Take a bite, Harlow,” he demanded, and every cell in my body agreed that it was the best idea they’d ever heard.
But despite the drool at the corner of my lips, I stayed strong. “No,” I spat. “Not doing it.”
“Just take a bite,” he whispered. “You know you want to.”
“Nope.”
“Do it, Harlow.”
But God, they look so good… I couldn’t stop my tongue from licking across my lips in anticipation.
“Will you leave me alone, then?”
“Sure.”
“Fine,” I agreed and dug in with my “at-the-ready” plastic cutlery. My taste buds danced with the delicious flavors of freshly made pancakes covered in the world’s best ingredients.
Holy Moses, they were amazing. I moaned before I could stop myself.
“That good?” Scott’s amused voice filled my ear.
“Shut up,” I retorted over a mouthful of pancakes and Nutella.
“God,” he purred into my ear. “I fucking love that moan of yours.”
“I’m not having phone sex with you.”
A barking laugh left his lips. “Have real sex with me, then.”
“Nope,” I refuted, even though, for some insane reason, I secretly wanted to shout, Hell yes, fuck me stupid, and then feed me these pancakes again in the morning!
“Go on a date with me,” he demanded—something he’d been doing more and more since the day after penetration.
“Nope.”
“Come on, Harlow,” he cajoled.
“I don’t date.”
“Just one date,” he persisted.
“Not happening.”
“Dr. Shepard!” A panicked voice filled the background. “We need you in exam room eight!”
My brow furrowed. “Uh… That sounds important… I better let you go…”
“Nope,” he refuted. “You have to agree to a date with me first.”
“Dr. Shepard!” the voice called again, even more anxious this time.
“Holy hell, Scott!” I shouted into the phone. “Now is not the time to talk about dates! Go to exam room eight!”
“Dr. Shepard!”
“A man’s life is on the line here, Harlow,” Scott added. “You should probably just agree to the date so I can go save his life.”