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“No.”
“Ah, come on. I’m a terrible singer but I’m not afraid.”
“Neither am I.”
“Then yes?”
“Let me think. Still no.”
“I don’t think you thought about that at all.”
He threw her a little smirk but didn’t respond. She should ignore him. Should give him a taste of his own medicine. But keeping quiet had never been her strong point.
“I’ll whittle you down,” she said.
“Sure.”
“Let’s see, what song shall we sing together? How about ‘Just You and I’. I, of course, will sing the Crystal Gayle part and you’ll be Eddie Rabbitt. Or, if you’re feeling daring, we can swap the vocals.”
“I’ve never heard of either of those singers. Gonna have to Google them.”
“What? She’s Loretta Lynn’s sister.”
“Just how old are you?”
Vivi waved her hand dismissively. “I appreciate all music.”
“Apparently,” he said dryly. “And still no.”
“Aw. Well, I’m going to have to find someone to sing with me.”
“Okay.”
“Just warning you.”
“Warning noted,” he said.
His indifferent tone annoyed her. “What do I have to do to get you to sing with me?”
“I like negotiations,” he replied, humor threading through his tone. “Let’s see. Blowjob?”
“Pfft. I would do that anyway. I happen to like giving blowjobs.”
“Okay. Going for the hard stuff.”
She cocked her head. “You’re hard right now?”
“A little. Talking about blowjobs does that to a man.”
Being a little daring, she reached over to his lap and found his hard length in his jeans.
“More than a little.”
He smacked her hand away. “Stop that. I’m driving.”
“So, no road head?”
“Jesus, woman. You can’t cocktease a man like that. If I crash us, it’ll be your fault.”
