Page 17
Story: Petty AF
That time, I did laugh. I couldn’t help it. “Even if that’s true, I assure you, the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“Good.” He turned to look out over the crowd again. “I’m the only one who gets to see you naked.”
“Duly noted.”
He seemed to settle after that, appearing more relaxed as he bobbed his head along to the music. “The band is pretty good,”he offered, unprompted. “It’s not really my type of music, but this isn’t bad.”
The words came out thoughtful rather than blurted, making me think it had been an intentional statement rather than effects of the curse. I took that as a good sign.
“Not a fan of country music?”
I flinched inwardly, belatedly realizing my mistake in asking him to voice his opinion. While I wanted to hear the answer, however disorganized it might be, I hadn’t meant to bait him.
River shrugged as he returned his attention to me. “I don’t have anything against it. It’s just not my favorite.”
“Perfectly reasonable.” Smiling, I slid my thumb back and forth over his hand. Partly to comfort, but mostly because I just liked touching him.
His eyes glazed over, soft and unfocused. It only lasted for a moment, but the reaction intrigued me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.” He ducked his head, no longer meeting my gaze. Then he bit down on his bottom lip, clearly trying to hold something back. It didn’t work. “Stop smiling at me like that. It makes my dick hard.”
His response caught me off guard, and laughter puffed from my lips. I should have been used to it by now. The fact that he hadn’t even blushed at the admission proved just how often it happened.
It always surprised me, though, probably because most people weren’t usually so blatant, particularly when it came to their desires. With that said, I had to admit that being so openly wanted was a heady feeling that I thoroughly enjoyed.
As a bonus, if I had his full attention, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally offending anyone else.
“Like what?” I asked, purposely prodding him this time. Tilting my head, I relaxed my mouth so that it barely curved at the corners. “How am I smiling at you?”
His hand twitched inside mine as a quiet groan rolled off his lips. “Oh, my god, that’s even worse. Stop it.”
Releasing his hand, I brushed my fingertips up his forearm to cradle his wrist. “Just when I smile?”
Goosebumps broke out across his skin, and his gaze locked on my hand as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “No. Just you existing is kind of a massive turn-on.”
I chuckled again, the sound rougher this time as my own body began to respond.
River jerked his head up, his eyes narrowed. “You are evil, Deaton Horne.”
His words lacked any real heat, though. And he hadn’t told me to stop.
I tightened my hold on his wrist, possessive without being demanding.
His gaze returned to his arm, his eyes wide and a little unfocused.
I could practically see him coming undone in real time, the tangle of thoughts and emotions unraveling, quieting. The rigid set of his shoulders relaxed, the stiffness melting away as he swayed toward me from across the table.
“What about this?” I asked, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Do you like this?”
He bobbed his head. “I’d like it more if we were alone and naked.”
Normally, I would agree, but there was something deliciously satisfying about the tension building between us. We weren’t being overt or scandalous, but teasing him this way, knowing neither of us could do anything about it, only made the anticipation more palpable.
“What else do you like?”
He laughed, the sound soft and breathy, and it sent a thrill through me that made my fingers twitch against his wrist.
“Good.” He turned to look out over the crowd again. “I’m the only one who gets to see you naked.”
“Duly noted.”
He seemed to settle after that, appearing more relaxed as he bobbed his head along to the music. “The band is pretty good,”he offered, unprompted. “It’s not really my type of music, but this isn’t bad.”
The words came out thoughtful rather than blurted, making me think it had been an intentional statement rather than effects of the curse. I took that as a good sign.
“Not a fan of country music?”
I flinched inwardly, belatedly realizing my mistake in asking him to voice his opinion. While I wanted to hear the answer, however disorganized it might be, I hadn’t meant to bait him.
River shrugged as he returned his attention to me. “I don’t have anything against it. It’s just not my favorite.”
“Perfectly reasonable.” Smiling, I slid my thumb back and forth over his hand. Partly to comfort, but mostly because I just liked touching him.
His eyes glazed over, soft and unfocused. It only lasted for a moment, but the reaction intrigued me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.” He ducked his head, no longer meeting my gaze. Then he bit down on his bottom lip, clearly trying to hold something back. It didn’t work. “Stop smiling at me like that. It makes my dick hard.”
His response caught me off guard, and laughter puffed from my lips. I should have been used to it by now. The fact that he hadn’t even blushed at the admission proved just how often it happened.
It always surprised me, though, probably because most people weren’t usually so blatant, particularly when it came to their desires. With that said, I had to admit that being so openly wanted was a heady feeling that I thoroughly enjoyed.
As a bonus, if I had his full attention, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally offending anyone else.
“Like what?” I asked, purposely prodding him this time. Tilting my head, I relaxed my mouth so that it barely curved at the corners. “How am I smiling at you?”
His hand twitched inside mine as a quiet groan rolled off his lips. “Oh, my god, that’s even worse. Stop it.”
Releasing his hand, I brushed my fingertips up his forearm to cradle his wrist. “Just when I smile?”
Goosebumps broke out across his skin, and his gaze locked on my hand as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “No. Just you existing is kind of a massive turn-on.”
I chuckled again, the sound rougher this time as my own body began to respond.
River jerked his head up, his eyes narrowed. “You are evil, Deaton Horne.”
His words lacked any real heat, though. And he hadn’t told me to stop.
I tightened my hold on his wrist, possessive without being demanding.
His gaze returned to his arm, his eyes wide and a little unfocused.
I could practically see him coming undone in real time, the tangle of thoughts and emotions unraveling, quieting. The rigid set of his shoulders relaxed, the stiffness melting away as he swayed toward me from across the table.
“What about this?” I asked, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Do you like this?”
He bobbed his head. “I’d like it more if we were alone and naked.”
Normally, I would agree, but there was something deliciously satisfying about the tension building between us. We weren’t being overt or scandalous, but teasing him this way, knowing neither of us could do anything about it, only made the anticipation more palpable.
“What else do you like?”
He laughed, the sound soft and breathy, and it sent a thrill through me that made my fingers twitch against his wrist.