Page 37 of Fairground

I grin and rock back on my heels. “I’ve got the stamina of a sixteen-year-old.”

Her mouth opens and closes like she’s trying to find a comeback but can’t. Her pupils dilate, and for a second, I wonder if I pushed things too far—if that was a line I shouldn’t have crossed. But dammit, the thought of her, with her soft curves and sharp tongue pressed up against me leaves me wondering what it’d be like to push her even further. I'd like to slide my cock between those tits and fuck them until I come all over her pretty neck and chest.

“That’s... that’s highly inappropriate, Cash.”

“Sometimes I say inappropriate things. Does it bother you? I can stop if you’d like me to?”

“Um… no... I mean, I don't want you to stop being you,” she says slowly, her tone unsure. It’s obvious she has no idea how to handle the last ten minutes of our conversation.

“Noted, you want me to keep being me.”

She flushes and shakes her head, and I decide to throw her a lifeline and ease the clear tension in her shoulders.

“All right, so you were saying?”

She clears her throat, straightening her shoulders like she’s trying to shake me off. “I didn’t invite you out last night because it was girls’ night.”

“I like girls.”

She sighs. “So I’ve heard.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, stepping closer to her. Close enough that there’s barely a whisper of space left between us. Her gaze flicks up to mine, her expression calm and indifferent—though that shrug of hers is all attitude and faked indifference.

“Regan told me that you... appreciate women, that’s all.”

Fucking Regan. Ratting me out like the little sister that she is.

I tilt my head, not breaking eye contact. “That’s not something I’m ashamed of. I do. I love everything about women. I think they’re the stronger sex, and frankly, we should let them make more decisions for the world instead of men. Look at the mess men have made of things.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I can tell I hit a chord.

Good.

Because I’m not lying—this world’s gone to hell under the patriarchy.

“I also like the way that they smell. The way they taste. And I love bringing them pleasure.” My voice drops lower, softer, as I watch her lips part on a soft gasp. “There’s something so damn incredible about having a strong woman on top of me, her nailsclawing at my back while she screams my name. Makes me feel like a king to be able to bring so much pleasure.”

She wets her lips, and my eyes follow that flick of her tongue like it’s a magnet. “It sounds like you have quite a bit of experience with them,” she murmurs, her voice catching slightly.

I nod, slow and deliberate. “I’m not going to lie. I do. Does that bother you?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, then she clears it and takes a deliberate step back, putting way too much distance between us for my liking.

“It wouldn’t matter if it did. Let’s... let’s get to work,” she says, her words rushed. “The rest of the planning committee’s coming in an hour, and we still need to finalize the entertainment lineup before we hand it off to them.”

She circles around the white plastic table and pulls out a chair, setting her tablet down with a little too much force against the surface. I follow, and when she sits as far from the middle as humanly possible, I slide my chair right next to hers until our thighs are bumping. She scoots away again, and I grip the leg of the metal, and yank her towards me, causing her to gasp as she slams into my side.

I grin down at her.

“Must we sit this close together to do this?” she demands, glaring at me with a mix of irritation and flustered nerves.

“Yeah. I need to see over your shoulder at what you’re writing. Make sure you aren’t cheating."

And stare at your pretty side profile.

The way your lips are so full and soft.

The curve of your nose and full swell of your breasts.

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