“I’m good, sexy. You have received expressed consent. Now… where do you want to enter me?”
“What do you got to drink?”
“I have vodka coolers. I might have a bottle of wine. But I’d much rather get down to business.”
He notches an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna offer me something to wet my whistle before you have your way with me?”
“Am I having my way with you or are you having your way with me?” I try. “Because I’d much rather be the bottom than the top. Though I’ll happily spend some time on top hoping you know what you want and aren’t afraid to demand it.”
He licks his top teeth behind his closed mouth as his eyes move over me and I see approval. A lot of it. And whoa, is it heady.
“Seems like me having my way with you is you having your way with me,” he replies. “Which happens to be how I like it.”
I toss a smirk and a wink his way before I move to the kitchen and open the fridge. I slowly and deliberately bend before I pull out a vodka cooler that tastes like pink lemonade and twist the cap off, toss it into my sink, and pass the bottle to him.
He leans over my trash bin and spits out his gum before accepting the drink. He takes a look around and then his eyes land on me again.
I know the place doesn’t have a whole lot of personality. That’s because it’s not my place. This corporate apartment has white walls, black furniture, and came with a few fake houseplants. The kitchen is small but top-of-the-line with white cupboards, black and white granite counters and breakfast bar that has four black leather and chrome stools. There’s a black leather couch and two matching chairs with smoked glass coffee and end tables. I bought a funky area rug and I’ve got a bunch of jewel-toned pillows all over the furniture. Black lacquer TV unit with a no-frills television, but I’ve added some colorful plant pots filled with succulents.
“This tastes like candy,” he says, eyeballing the cooler with distaste.
“Oh. Wait. I have a bottle of vodka. It’s for Jell-o shots for Carly’s bachelorette party. I totally forgot. Can’t believe those two got engaged the other day and are getting married next week. You want a shot?”
“Sure. If you’ll do one with me.” He sets the cooler bottle down on the counter.
I set us up at the counter, then we do two shots together. This has me on the verge of completely shitfaced. I look him over as he drinks back his second shot. God, he’s completely delicious.
“One more,” he says. “For me, not you. Don’t want you fallin’ asleep on me anytime soon.”
“Believe me, I need some physical exertion to get me tired. And maybe you oughta skip it; you’re not gonna be able to drive yourself home afterwards. Unless I call you a cab.”
“You’re planning my exit before I get my entry?” Jude asks.
I bark out a laugh.
“I’m spending the night, Ally,” he informs, taking his jacket off.
Shit. I didn’t see this coming.
“This is a booty call, Stud Muffin. Booty calls are not sleepovers.”
He says nothing. He throws his jacket over the arm of the couch.
“This one is.”
“I like my space after booty calls,” I add.
His eyes work over my face and then he takes another vodka shot. “I’m spending the night,” he says as he sets the empty glass on the counter. “I don’t drink and drive and I don’t do drive-thru fuck service. I’m here at least until the sun rises.”
Damn it.
“You’re making it very easy for me to want hate sex right now,” I growl.
He eyes me from eyes to toes and then his eyes drift lazily back up. He smirks.
Whomp. There goes another belly swoop.
“All right,” I throw my arms up. “Just making sure we’re clear. And I have plans tomorrow so I can make you a cup of coffee and chat for ten minutes after we get up but then you’ll have to make like a tree and leave… I have to be out the door by eight. Oh, and I don’t cuddle. I like to sleep in the middle of the bed, but I’ll veer to the right tonight. You stay on the left. Or better yet, you can either sleep on the couch or the spare bedroom.”
He smiles and then leans forward on the bar so that we’re nearly nose to nose.
“You get a taste of me and what I can do to you, you might be beggin’ me to stay for the rest of your life.”
“I like the sound of that,” I whisper and run the tip of my nose along the side of his. And then I give my head a shake. “In theory only, of course. This is just a booty call, sexy man.”