Page 15 of My Faire Lady

“Exactly,” Frankie says. “So, you probably need something to satisfy that thirst, right?”

My gaze swings between them, and condensation drips from the beer in my hands, cratering into the dust on the floorboards.

Scarlet clenches her jaw, eyes narrowed on Frankie. “Why can’t you do it?”

“According to you, I’m not allowed to drink on the job, remember?” Frankie’s smile grows feral, and she nudges me closer to the counter.

“What’s the dirty wench?” I whisper over my shoulder to Frankie.

She ignores me. “Come on now, Scarlet. Don’t you want Lottie to practice with someone she already knows?”

A blush creeps into the swell of Scarlet’s cheeks, and she stares daggers into Frankie before blowing out a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.” Finally, she turns to me. “When we’re done I’ll take you to the retail booth.”

Frankie straightens with a pleased smirk plastered across her face. “Scarlet, honey, hands behind your back.”

Scarlet huffs and steps as close to the bar as possible, armor clinking together as she clasps her hands behind her back. The metal plates hug her muscles, spanning her body like a second skin.

Through thick eyelashes, she looks up at me and lowers her voice to a whisper. “You can stop anytime you want to.”

My brow furrows.

Frankie sidles up beside me. “Are you ready?”

No. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Great. The first step is easy. Press the mouth of the can to Scarlet’s lips and tilt it a little bit, just enough for her to drink.”

I stare into the dark amber liquid in the can, my pulse skittering as my attention travels to Scarlet’s lips. There’s a natural rose flush to them, and she rubs them together before letting them part. My gaze lifts to her eyes, ringed with green on the outer edges of her irises. She gives me the barest of nods.

“Okay,” I breathe, holding the can in a single hand.

I lean closer, and the edge of the counter digs into my sternum. As I lower the can to her mouth, my middle knuckle drags over her bottom lip, and a shiver shoots down my spine. Steadying my breathing, I watch the liquid as a trickle of beer passes between her lips.

I lift my gaze, and our eyes lock.

Her throat bobs on a swallow.

My breaths grow shallow, and melting ice rolls down the back of my hand as Scarlet takes another drag, our faces a handsbreadth apart.

“Perfect,” Frankie says, leaning on her elbow. “Now repeat after me.”

She whispers into my ear, and my grip on the beer can falters, spilling a few drops down Scarlet’s chin.

“I am not saying that,” I hiss.

Her voice lowers even further, but gone is the sensual purr. “You have nothing to worry about. Scarlet won’t make fun of you, I promise.”

Something in her tone steadies me, and I nod. But as soon as I turn my attention back to Scarlet, my heart forgets an entire beat.

She lifts a daring brow.

And dammit, I can’t bow out now.

I blow out a breath and, keeping the can pressed to Scarlet’s lips, hold her gaze. “Show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

Her pupils widen, but she doesn’t break eye contact as she swallows another mouthful. Heat blooms in the space behind my navel, but I focus on the rough wood pressing into my elbow and the way Scarlet’s chin grazes the backs of my fingers.

“Good,” Frankie whispers, giving another line to repeat.