Page 15 of The Playboy SEAL
“I feel like we have babysitters.”
“They don’t trust me. And for good reason.”
It must be a bitch to be friends with women. Teala seems to be on a whole different wavelength than her friends. It makes a little more sense why winning this bet means more to her than it should. I’d tell my friends to fuck off, but then again I don’t have anything to prove.
She walks next to me, careful not to brush my arm as she goes.
“This is me,” I say when we reach my car. “I feel like it should be the other way around. Me walking you to your car.” And then fucking you in the back seat doggy style, with your face pressed up against the glass. Then I’d make you clean off the makeup smears. Yes, I fancy that plan quite a lot.
“You do have dating instincts!” Teala quips. “Gentlemanly ones.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I don’t. But that’s okay. It doesn’t make a difference for what we’re doing.” She’s silhouetted by a street light. Even in the dark I can see her face fall as she averts her gaze. “Look at me, Teala.”
She doesn’t. Probably because I told her to. I like that and hate that at the same time. “Look at me now,” I say, lowering my voice. “Look at me now, uh.” I thrust my hips forward and clasp my hands behind my head. “Look at me now.” I flash her a hip-hop smile, minus the grill.
She laughs and looks at me. “Oh, god. You’re one of those people!”
“What kind? The motherfuckin’ awesome kind?” I ask, bringing my arms down to cross over my broad chest. Her gaze skims my muscles. I flex a little harder.
She swallows—an audible noise.
Her smile is electric. “The kind who quotes rap songs in everyday conversation. I have a friend who does that. She drops down to get her twerk on wherever we are at the mention of dropping something. It’s ridiculous.”
I lift my chin. “Yet, you’re laughing. Maybe you’re right, though. Cool people quote rap songs. It makes life less boring.”
I take a step toward her. I’m in her space. She wants me in it. Nothing has been more obvious. Her lips part, her hands in fists by her sides.
Teala’s shoulders loosen a touch. “Are you okay to drive?” she asks, glancing at my car.
She’s underestimating my alcohol tolerance. It’s fair. Everyone does. I have the ability to drink more than anyone I know and still function on a level most would consider normal.
Bending down, I wrap one hand around the back of her neck and pull her head toward mine. I stop before her skin touches mine. Against her lips I say, “Only if you’re okay going home by yourself.”
I can taste the desire in her breaths as we trade air. She’s putty in my hands, head limp and ready to go anywhere I want it. My dick raises its hand. It wants to be called on.
“Until next time. You really should firm up what’s acceptable on the second date,” I say, backing off a little.
Teala slams her eyes shut. The motion wrinkles her brows.
“Why did it have to be you? Why are you my type? Why couldn’t I have shown up tonight and found a nice, normal guy? One who actually wanted to date and not fuck. Someone less good-looking. Someone more…more decent.”
I’ve never looked at myself as a bad person, but if you break it down in the terms she did, I’m the definition of a bad guy. “Every guy wants to fuck. Don’t delude yourself,” I reply. Slowly, brushing the side of her neck as I go, I release her, giving her head freedom.
She steps away. “You’re right. I guess. I assumed the same thing, but I was told differently,” she replies.
Teala brushes hair off her cheek. Her hair is beautiful, long, and shiny. She takes care of it. I’ll be able to wrap it around my hand a couple of times. My phone pings from my pocket. The noise draws her gaze to my crotch. When she realizes what she’s looking at, she takes another step back.
“This is going to be hard.”
“It’s not the only thing that’s hard,” I reply, grinning. “Joking aside, it’s not that difficult. We’re both consenting adults.” Since my first submersion into the SEAL world during Hell Week, the rest of my life has seemed easy. Surely she’s dealt with more difficult obstacles than refraining from sex.
She sighs. “I should go. You have my number. We can make plans for another date. That is, if you’re absolutely sure you want to jump into this charade with me.”
If the end goal is me getting into her pants, I can do that. I’ll look at this the way I look at my swiping. It’s just taking longer for her to swipe back. I’ll continue doing me in the meantime. She’s worth it. Moose says so.
“Tomorrow? I’ll come up with a date. As an equal contributor, it’s only fair.”
She smiles, bites the corner of her lip, and nods her head. “Until then. Good night.”
