Casual Affair

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Likewise. So, you two work together?”

“Not every day,” she replied. “But yes.”

“And is he as overbearing at work as he is with his friends?”

She glanced up at Zane to see him watching her intently. “Probably more so.”

Mike laughed as he took a drink from his beer.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. The two of them frequently disagreed, mainly because Zane was such a control freak, and she was…well, a bit stubborn. He had a real problem delegating tasks because he wanted to do everything himself. And naturally, her way was almost always the best way, so she didn’t like anyone telling her she was wrong.

It made for…interesting work days.

“Hey, I took you paintballing, didn’t I?” Zane said defensively. “I don’t think that qualifies as dull or overbearing.”

They stared each other down for several seconds before she nodded. “I’ll give you that one.”

“And I can dance, as you know,” he added, inching even closer, until their bodies were almost touching.

It reminded her of the night in the club when he ground against her, making her so hot for him she could hardly breathe. Then he’d fucked her so hard and so good she could barely believe it hadn’t been a dream.

The look on Zane’s face told her that putting those thoughts into her head had been his entire goal.

“What else do I have to do to prove I’m not dull?” he asked, all innocence.

“Show me you can drink,” she answered without hesitation. She looked down at their mugs. “What are we drinking tonight?”

“Yuengling,” Zane replied. “One of my favorite American beers.”

“You know it’s the oldest brewery in the country, right?” she asked.

Something sparked in his eyes, though she couldn’t put a name to it. Whatever it was gave her butterflies and she had to look away.

“No, I didn’t,” he said quietly.

She cleared her throat and addressed both of them, needing to wipe that too serious look from Zane’s face. “Care to make things interesting, boys?”

“Oh, I love a good wager,” was Mike’s response as he sat forward in his chair.

“I bet I can chug one of those mugs down faster than both of you. If I win, you have to take a shot of my choosing. If I lose, I’ll do a shot that you choose.”

The two men looked at each other with perplexed expressions, then exploded into laughter. She rolled her eyes, used to the reaction. Men always underestimated her.

“You think you can beat both of us in a chugging contest?” Mike wheezed out between laughs.

She threw her clutch down on the table in an I-mean-business gesture. “Yes.”

“Both of us?” This from Zane. “I’m sorry, luv, but I don’t even want to take you up on that.”

She put her hands on her hips and shot him a look of disdain. “Chicken?”

Zane’s smile disappeared. After working with her for two months, he had clearly learned not to mess with that look. He acted as though there was real danger of her going all dramatic on him, accusing him of being a sexist, and throwing his mug of beer in his face. His hand was even carefully inching the mug across the table, away from her.

“I just…” He faltered. “Look at you.” He gestured at her body. “Where would you put all that beer?”

“Oh, Mr. Price. I have talents you’ve never seen,” she told him, lowering her voice suggestively.

“I…” His pupils dilated, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m—”

“You big, strong, manly Brits aren’t afraid of losing to a li’l ol’ southern gal, are y’all?” She batted her eyelashes.

Again, they exchanged a look, but this time they seemed nervous. “No,” they said in unison.

She nodded. “Good. I’ll get the beers.”

She was so winning.

Which, of course, she did.

When the guys finally realized they were going to lose—and badly—they actually stopped drinking to watch her last few gulps.

She laughed at their stunned faces and waited for the questions she knew were coming.