I turned a deep red, his fingertips circling my thigh, tracing invisible patterns.
"Do you always find it hard to answer a question kettle pot?
"These questions, don't warrant any answers." flushing with embarrassment and desire.
"What if someone overhear you?"
"I don't give a fuck about people Adela. I could care less about what they would think. Right now I want you so bad. I could drag you over the table and fuck you right here." squeezing my thigh.
I wobbled on my seat. Thank god I was seated, my knees weakening from his simple touch and smoky, impeccable tone.
"You are kidding. Right?" I cracked
He gives me a look that seems that I have been missing the point. "I don't ever kid about fucking Adela."
I glared at him, bastard thought he was so smooth, so charming. Yes, he was.
"Well, it's time. I should be going. I don't want to be late for work."
Although, I am not sure that I could get up, my panties surprisingly wet. My expression raw, needy.
"You could always skip work, call in sick and come to my place."
"No, later" my defenses crumbling as his hand moved higher. Irritated by my need for him.
"I am not quite ready to be a notch on your bedpost." I spat, moving his hand away.