To that, her lips twitched for a second before she forced them into a straight line. "I know you think you're so slick and charming, but I have your number, Mr. Mark Mallick."
Something about that phrasing was a bit of a gut-punch. Maybe it was as simple as the 'have your number' phrase, almost identical to what I had been thinking about in regard to another woman just a couple minutes before. But whatever it was, it sparked a challenge inside me, whether that was her intention or not.
My arm slid from the wall and moved to plant beside the door at her side. Then my other arm went to the other side, caging her in, bringing us closer.
Because, quite frankly, I knew I was charming. I also knew I had game. And I knew I was a good looking guy. Despite all the fire she kept spitting at me, she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to pretend to be either.
I wasn't above using that to my advantage.
As I was about to prove.
I watched her as I moved up a step, as I went to take the height advantage away from her, as she needed to crane her neck up to keep eye-contact which she was too stubborn to break. Her breathing went more shallow, but faster. Her eyes went a little heated, a little hooded. And those full lips of hers, yeah, they parted too.
"Tell you what," I said, keeping my voice low. "If you are able to tell me to fuck off right now, I'll go. I'll go and you won't have to see me again." I let that hang for a second, then leaned a little closer, my head ducking down near her ear, knowing my breath would shiver across the lobe, knowing it was going to turn her belly liquid. It always fucking did. "But I don't think you're going to do that."
"I.. Why..." she started, then stopped, taking a deeper breath, trying to keep it together. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Simple. You don't want me to go."
"That's idiotic. Of course I want you to..." She trailed off as I leaned forward, letting my lips graze her earlobe, feeling it against my body as her own responded, as it heated, as it leaned in, as it worked through her body as a tremble of need.
"Want me to do what?" I asked, teeth snagging her earlobe for a second. "This?" My tongue moved out to do a little swipe as my cock grew hard at the way she leaned in, her hands falling from her chest to land at my waist, not grabbing, not pulling me closer. Her hands were fisted still, the struggle between her mind and body apparent.
"That? Yes," she surprised me by admitting, proving she wasn't the type of woman who evaded or played coy or played games. She liked something, she told you, simple as that. "Wait. No. Not that," she said, voice husky, breathing just shy of frantic. She wanted it alright, but maybe not quite as much as she knew she needed to turn me down.
We could work on that.
"Which one, sweetheart?" I asked, pulling back slightly, looking down at her face, finding it the slightest bit flushed in her obvious desire. "You want it or you don't want it?"
"You mean you," she specified, taking a slow, uneven breath. It literally made her chest shake with the effort.
"Yeah, babe. I mean me. You want me, or you don't."
"That's a loaded question."
"It has only one of two answers," I countered.
"Boys," she said, rolling her eyes. "Sure, there might be two answers, but there are a multitude of factors."
"Such as?" I asked, willing to play along, maybe just liking her company more than I should have for a practical stranger. I was standing my ground though, refusing to move back, to give her space. If she wanted it, she was going to need to take it for herself. She was strong enough to do that if she really wanted to. But also stubborn enough to refuse it.
"Such as you being a loanshark enforcer who knows I am a wanted armed robber. Such as you know my hideout. Such as that despite that, the cement and fresh-cut grass thing really does it for me for reasons I don't want to explain. And that smirk is distracting. If you could just... stop, like... wipe that off your face. Off," she commanded when her banter just made it curve fuller. Her hand reached out, pressing into my lips for a second. "I get it; you're hot. You don't have to keep giving me that damn grin."
"Think I'm hot, huh?" I asked, ignoring her request, smiling all I wanted.
"Oh, please. You know you're hot. You bank on that."
"I bank on it?" I asked, brows drawing together, feeling maybe the least bit insulted at that.