Page 32 of On the Line
She smirked. “And why are you here? Are you a local?”
“Sure am,” Mitch said. “I work in the financial district.”
“Let me guess,” Lexie said, leaning closer and dropping her voice. “You’re some big wig at a bank. You’ve got a sexy assistant that you sometimes fuck in the board room after hours, you sleep three hours a night, and survive on black coffee and Clif bars.”
Mitch laughed, a loud bark that was instantly swallowed up by the chatter around them. She had clearly put a lot of thought into this, and the longer they sat here playing this game, the more his skin tightened, the situation in his pants growing more and more dire by the second.
This little role play game was so fucking hot, and Mitch was going to make tonightso fucking goodfor her.
“Close,” he said. “I’m a hedge fund manager.”
She smirked. “That was going to be my next guess. So you wear a suit every day?” He nodded, and she leaned close enough that he could peer down her shirt and see her boobs. Those perfect, perky, ridiculously soft mounds he wanted to put his mouth all over.
“I’d love to see you in a suit,” she whispered and reached out to run a finger along his dick through his jeans. His back stiffened and he hissed out a breath.
“Lexie…”
She pulled away with a laugh that was borderline maniacal.
This woman was going to kill him.
“Let’s go get dinner,” she said, abruptly downing the rest of her margarita in three quick swallows and looking expectantly at him.
“You want to go get dinner,” Mitch said dumbly. “Right now? With all…this…going on?” He gestured at his lap, the zipper of his jeans straining against theveryhard flesh underneath.
“I want to go get dinner,” Lexie confirmed. “I’m assuming you got off the bus, changed, and came right here, which means you haven’t eaten yet. And I’m starving,” she said, with a pointed look at his lap followed by that sexy little smirk again.
Mitch slowly blinked at her, and when she apparently got tired of waiting, she picked up his beer, drained the remainder of it for him, and stood, holding out her hand.
In a daze, he grabbed it and let her lead him out of the bar and hotel and onto Elm Street. She turned left out of the door and, at the end of the block, took a right. A few moments later, they turned onto Main Street.
Main Street was teeming with nightlife, couples, families, and groups of men and women coming in and out of all the bars and restaurants. Lexie started up the street, still holding Mitch’s hand. Bending down so he could whisper in her ear, he said, “This feels an awful lot like a date, Lexie. I thought you didn’t do love?”
She spared him a glance and an eye roll, gaze returning forward so she could navigate the crowded street, and said, “I don’t. But we’re not in Detroit, and I wanted to hold your hand. If you have a problem with that…”
When she went to pull her hand free, he held tight, quickly pulling her into his side and tossing his arm around her shoulders, grinning at how she molded perfectly into him.
I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, he thought.
“What kind of food do we want?” She asked.
“I would kill for a burger right now,” he said.
They walked a few more blocks until they came to a classic American-style restaurant and stepped inside. It was dim, the walls decorated with sports memorabilia, the tables packed. A hostess took Mitch’s name, handed them a pager, and told them it should only be about ten minutes.
So they stepped back outside and sat on an unoccupied bench along the exterior wall of the building to wait. Needing to touch her, he slung his arm around her shoulders again, toying with the ends of her hair.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in town tonight?” Mitch asked her. “I would’ve got you tickets to the game.”
Lexie shrugged. “I had tickets anyway.”
Mitch looked at her, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “And I repeat: why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in town tonight?”
“I went to the game because I was trying to sign someone, and he’s a big hockey fan.”
“He, huh?” Mitch asked, jealousy spiking through him.
Lexie glared up at him. “Don’t get all jealous on me,Mitchell,” she said, and his dick, which had sufficiently calmed down on the walk here, twitched.
