with a grin that stretches ear to ear.
“What? You’re kidding me, right?” My body shivers at his suggestion.
“What better and faster way is there to get to know each other?” His eyes search my face, playing with me.
I eye him intently, still unsure if he’s joking or serious.
“Seriously. You’re kidding, right?” I repeat.
He laughs, probably finding the shock on my face humorous.
“Of course I am. Unless you like the idea.” He smiles mischievously.
What a tease!
He really had me going there for a second. I have to admit, the idea did stir up some excitement in me, even though I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it. Yeah, I’m a chicken.
“Sorry, but you didn’t eat enough of my tarts to grant you admission to view my wares.”
“Damn. A chance to see your wares would’ve been worth the blisters.” His eyes scan down my body, and that familiar aching incites my groin.
My God, we’re flirting obscenely. But damn it, I’m loving it! I haven’t felt this alive since . . . well, I don’t know when, because quite frankly, it’s been a while.
“Come,” he says and takes my hand.
We walk down the short wooden pier where a rowboat awaits. He climbs into the boat first.
“Pass me the basket,” he says.
I do as he asks.
He sets it down behind him and then holds out his hand to me. I take it, and with his help, I settle into the boat across from him.
“It’s not as exciting as skinny dipping with you, but it’s the next best thing right now.” The sunlight puts a glint in his light brown eyes and they captivate me again, but I manage to utter my retort.
“I don’t know. I think watching you burn your mouth on tarts might be the next best thing,” I tease him.
“Hmm, how many of those things do I have to eat to be granted access to your lovely body?” His eyes look into mine seriously.
Oh my God, I know we’re just jesting with each other, but dang, my crotch is on fire with all this flirting.
He is kidding . . . right?
Chapter 8 - Marcus
~* Marcus *~
Flirting with Laura is such a kick. She’s teasable, like Angela. With some people, you have to be careful how you tease them, because they can take it offensively, but not teasable people, they jump in and give it right back to you.
Laura’s still a little cautious with me though. She’s not always sure if I’m joking or serious. I find that appealing because I can have a lot of fun with her and keep her guessing.
Yeah, I’m naughty, but hey, naughty is a hell of a lot of fun.
I’ll give her a week and I’m sure she’ll know me as well as she knows herself. I’m not a complicated man, especially when it comes to a woman. I say what I feel in my heart without reservation, or worrying about how she’ll take it—whether it’ll put a blush to her cheek or make her laugh.
Both my parents were that way—wearing their hearts on their sleeves, as the cliché goes. And I probably inherited that trait from them. David was the opposite; he didn’t express himself freely. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth. Angela is like my parents and I, she has no qualms about exposing her heart. If she ever lets a man into her life, to love her, he’ll be one lucky guy—he’ll never lack from her attention, or her affection.
“Sir, access to my body is worth a hell of a lot more than a few pieces of tarts,” Laura tells me.
“Will two pieces buy me a kiss then?” I start rowing us out onto the lake, but my eyes never leave hers. I sense she’s finding our quips stimulating and entertaining. I sure am.
“Maybe,” she says flirtatiously, yet with a sassy undertone, “but you’ll have to earn it with more than just your appetite.”
This woman is right up my alley—and she’s quick with the comebacks.
“What’ll you have me do?” I ask.
She taps her chin as her eyes look at me musingly.
“How about you strip off your clothes and jump in the lake naked?”
I stop rowing. Did
“What? You’re kidding me, right?” My body shivers at his suggestion.
“What better and faster way is there to get to know each other?” His eyes search my face, playing with me.
I eye him intently, still unsure if he’s joking or serious.
“Seriously. You’re kidding, right?” I repeat.
He laughs, probably finding the shock on my face humorous.
“Of course I am. Unless you like the idea.” He smiles mischievously.
What a tease!
He really had me going there for a second. I have to admit, the idea did stir up some excitement in me, even though I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it. Yeah, I’m a chicken.
“Sorry, but you didn’t eat enough of my tarts to grant you admission to view my wares.”
“Damn. A chance to see your wares would’ve been worth the blisters.” His eyes scan down my body, and that familiar aching incites my groin.
My God, we’re flirting obscenely. But damn it, I’m loving it! I haven’t felt this alive since . . . well, I don’t know when, because quite frankly, it’s been a while.
“Come,” he says and takes my hand.
We walk down the short wooden pier where a rowboat awaits. He climbs into the boat first.
“Pass me the basket,” he says.
I do as he asks.
He sets it down behind him and then holds out his hand to me. I take it, and with his help, I settle into the boat across from him.
“It’s not as exciting as skinny dipping with you, but it’s the next best thing right now.” The sunlight puts a glint in his light brown eyes and they captivate me again, but I manage to utter my retort.
“I don’t know. I think watching you burn your mouth on tarts might be the next best thing,” I tease him.
“Hmm, how many of those things do I have to eat to be granted access to your lovely body?” His eyes look into mine seriously.
Oh my God, I know we’re just jesting with each other, but dang, my crotch is on fire with all this flirting.
He is kidding . . . right?
Chapter 8 - Marcus
~* Marcus *~
Flirting with Laura is such a kick. She’s teasable, like Angela. With some people, you have to be careful how you tease them, because they can take it offensively, but not teasable people, they jump in and give it right back to you.
Laura’s still a little cautious with me though. She’s not always sure if I’m joking or serious. I find that appealing because I can have a lot of fun with her and keep her guessing.
Yeah, I’m naughty, but hey, naughty is a hell of a lot of fun.
I’ll give her a week and I’m sure she’ll know me as well as she knows herself. I’m not a complicated man, especially when it comes to a woman. I say what I feel in my heart without reservation, or worrying about how she’ll take it—whether it’ll put a blush to her cheek or make her laugh.
Both my parents were that way—wearing their hearts on their sleeves, as the cliché goes. And I probably inherited that trait from them. David was the opposite; he didn’t express himself freely. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth. Angela is like my parents and I, she has no qualms about exposing her heart. If she ever lets a man into her life, to love her, he’ll be one lucky guy—he’ll never lack from her attention, or her affection.
“Sir, access to my body is worth a hell of a lot more than a few pieces of tarts,” Laura tells me.
“Will two pieces buy me a kiss then?” I start rowing us out onto the lake, but my eyes never leave hers. I sense she’s finding our quips stimulating and entertaining. I sure am.
“Maybe,” she says flirtatiously, yet with a sassy undertone, “but you’ll have to earn it with more than just your appetite.”
This woman is right up my alley—and she’s quick with the comebacks.
“What’ll you have me do?” I ask.
She taps her chin as her eyes look at me musingly.
“How about you strip off your clothes and jump in the lake naked?”
I stop rowing. Did
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