“And your parents? What are they like?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Writing a book?”
“No. I’m trying something new. It’s called getting to know you. Ever heard of it?”
“Touché.” He swirled his fingertip down the coiled wires in her ear. “You’re easy to talk to.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, noting his pained expression.
He surprised her by smiling. Again. It was almost getting to be a habit. “My parents are great people. Really decent, salt of the earth types. They preferred we choose more successful pursuits, like most parents, but they supported us regardless. Luckily none of us turned out to be bums.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
“But I was the typical middle child. Never sure of my niche. My older sister was my father’s princess. The sun rose and set on her, no matter if she brought home a C in calculus or got caught TP’ing our neighbor’s car. Adam was my mom’s precious baby boy. Her precocious little angel who charmed all the girls and excelled at every sport. Didn’t leave much room for me to stand out.”
“So what were you?”
He shrugged. “I swam, not spectacularly, but all right. I did okay in school. I had girlfriends, here and there. I wasn’t a standout in any way. Nothing really grabbed me like books. For a while, I toyed with becoming a writer.”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t for me. I can’t string sentences together to save my life. Too impatient, I guess. I settled on my major in college because I liked the outdoors and didn’t know what the hell else I’d do. Then I walked into The Nook. Even then it took me a couple years to figure out for certain what I was meant for.”
“To rule with an iron fist and a sexy swagger,” she said, batting her lashes until the wrinkle between his brows eased.
“I’ve never managed to rule you.”
“You’ve sure tried.” She nipped his chin. “I’m just hard to contain.”
“No kidding. Why do you think I’ve had a hard-on for you for three years?”
“You have not.”
He pretended to think it over. “Okay. I haven’t.”
Disappointment surged through her until she saw the uncharacteristic gleam in his dark eyes. “Liar. You have. Really?” She tried not to blush but she knew she was when his mouth softened. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“Didn’t stop you from molesting me in my car,” he teased.
She sidled up to kiss him full on the mouth. “Persistence is a bad habit of mine. I don’t give up.”
“So you damn both of us,” he murmured.
“Are we damned?”
“You tell me. You could change your shift,” he added as she tried to stifle another yawn.
“To accommodate my trips to the sex club?” She snorted and rolled onto her back. That was the smart thing to do, because distancing her body from his made it that much easier to get up and leave. Theoretically.
“Managers have their pick,” was all he said as he shifted on top of her and settled between her thighs.
She slitted her eyes as his fingers strummed up and down her pussy. “You’re the one who said I may not be management material.” Nope, that didn’t burn. Not at all.
“Maybe I underestimated you.”
“Maybe?” She reached down and gripped his cock. “What do I have to do to convince you?”
He cupped her breasts and thumbed