She lets her head fall back to laugh, and I smile involuntarily at the very sexy sound of her sweet giggles.
“That’s the fun part,” she continues. “If you get naked first, then you have to leave me alone for the remainder of the weekend - well, today and tomorrow.”
I frown as I tilt my head.
“That doesn’t sound fun at all. You don’t know how to deal out incentive very well.”
She laughs again and stands to slip in front of me, pressing her body between the counter and me, and making my cock burn and pulse to feel her.
“If I get naked first, then you can do any debasing, scandalous thing you want to with my body.”
A weaker man would have just shot his load right then and there. I'm almost a weaker man.
This just got interesting.
The knot in my throat becomes a hellacious beast as my hand slides around her waist before pulling her against my arousal, desperate to show her just how bad I want her.
“I like this game a little better now. Should we take this to the pool?”
“Sure. I like getting wet,” she jokes, making my jaw drop as I follow her twitching ass outside.
Damn that ass.
“I think you’re enjoying toying with me,” I mumble, and she smiles sweetly before stretching out on a lounge chair.
“I think you enjoy dodging any real conversations, so this should be interesting. Should I go first?”
I sit down beside her, and I rest my elbows on my knees as I study her tempting body.
“It seems you have one more article of clothing than me. What should we do about that?”
She smiles and stands to her feet while removing her shirt and tossing it to the ground. My mouth does its best to not drop to the ground as I stare at her glorious body - curvy in all the right places.
Her chest is… oh it’s phenomenal, and that’s just what I can see of it. Her slick, perfect stomach has just enough definition to stay feminine, making my mouth drool puddles.
“Better?” she says while blushing lightly under my appraising eyes.
“Much,” I strain out as my pants tighten.
“I’m assuming that means you’re not wearing any underwear under your swimming trunks?”
I smirk while shaking my head.
“Never do. Now, what about that question?”
She sits back down to face me, her eyes glowing mischief, while leaning back and propping up on her hands.
“What’s your notch count?” she bluntly asserts with a devious grin.
Christ.
That’s not the question I was expecting. I thought that sweet little mouth was going to ask something mundane, not reach under the table and cut me off at the knees.
I grimace as I think back to my countless affairs and meaningless one-nighters. I can’t tell her I’ve been with so many girls that I don’t have a notch count anymore.
With a sigh and a cheeky grin, I stand up and pull my shirt over my head before lowering myself back down to the seat. Her triumphant grin glows as she stares at me with a successful beam.
“That was easy enough,” she pokes.