I blinked, knocked off my game once more with him. A moment passed before I recovered. “So, you like my shorts?”
“I fucking loved those shorts.” He grinned as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.
Perhaps I should have worn them instead. “Well, it seems like you got me all figured out after two brief conversations, and here I am, not nearly as observant as you. I don’t know anything about you.”
“Not true,” he chided softly. “You know my first and last name. And where I work.”
“Wow. I could totally do a bio on you now.” I watched his lips twitch into a half grin again. “How about we play a game? A question for a question.”
He tilted his head to the side, lips pursed. “I think I can do that. Ladies first.”
Brushing my hair off my shoulder, I took another drink. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re still a baby then.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three,” I replied.
“What?” he laughed, the skin crinkling around his eyes. “That makes no sense.” He paused. “Unless older guys are normally your thing or something?”
I tsked softly. “It’s not your turn to ask a question. It’s mine. Have you lived here your whole life?”
“On and off. I was born near here.” His eyes glittered. “Answer my question.”
“Older guys aren’t typically my thing, but I don’t think I have a ‘thing,’ to be honest.”
“Equal opportunity player then?”
“I don’t think you understand how this game works, Nick.”
He smirked. “My bad.”
“Did you go to college or are you in college?” I asked.
Nick arched a brow. “Isn’t that two questions?”
“Oh, you got me. Pick one then.”
His chin dipped. “I did go to college. Is this your first time living away from home?”
I took a drink as I watched his thumb move along the bottle. “I lived in the dorm while I was at school, but this is the first time I’ve lived out of state. So, did you graduate?”
He nodded. “I did.”
The question formed on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to know why he was bartending. I was curious, but not in a judgy way, because there was nothing wrong with bartending. He’d probably made more money than I did, but I pushed the question down. That was too . . . personal for me. Tapping my finger on the bottle, I searched for a good one. “What’s your favorite hobby?”
“Besides fucking?” he said, his gaze hidden behind his thick lashes.
My stomach hollowed. Dear God, that was definitely putting it out there, and certain, important points in my body got all kinds of excited upon hearing that. “Yeah, besides that?”
“Hmm . . .” His gaze flipped to the ceiling as his lips pursed and then his gaze slammed into me. “If I had to pick one, I’d have to go with working with my hands.”
A sharp swirl of pleasure rattled me. “For some reason, I think that has a double meaning.”
One shoulder rose and he took a drink. “What about you? Favorite hobby?”
“Besides fucking?”
Nick’s laugh was deep, but his stare was no longer lazy. “Yeah, besides that,” he said, repeating my words.
“Um . . .” His thumb was moving up and down the neck of the bottle, and I couldn’t help but picture that hand on me, that thumb moving likewise. My mouth dried and my mind was skipping around in dirty, dirty places again. I lifted my gaze. “I’d have to say watching movies. I’ve probably seen thousands and thousands.”
“Interesting.” He eyed me over the opening of the bottle.
I set my beer aside and clasped the edges of the counter on either side of my hips, waiting for his next question. He was taking his sweet old time.
“You know what?” Setting his own bottle aside, he pushed away from the counter, and I straightened, my hands slipping off the counter. “I didn’t come here to play twenty questions.”
My head tilted to the side. “Well, no shit.” I smiled sweetly, even as a heaviness settled in my breasts and my blood felt like it thickened.
He was grinning that half smile again. “And you don’t want me here to answer questions either.”
I met his stare as he stepped forward, stopping right in front of me. Every cell in my body became super aware of his proximity. “If I say no shit again does that make me repetitive?”
“Only a little,” he murmured, leaning in and placing his hands on my hips. “So let’s say fuck the questions and answers and get down to what we both are anticipating.”
The flutter moved from my chest and then down, low in my belly. “You’re not the kind of guy to beat around the bush, are you?”
“Nope.” His hands settled on my hips and my eyes flew to his. He held my stare. “And neither are you. You’re done with these questions, too.”
“I am?” My breath caught as his grip on my hips tightened.
“Yeah, you are.” He lowered his head so that his mouth was near my ear. “Want to know how I know that? You started to get hot from the moment I said fucking was my hobby.” He lifted one hand and without breaking eye contact brushed his thumb over the tip of my breast, unerringly finding and grazing my nipple. “And these have been getting harder by the second.”
Oh, sweet Jesus. The bolt of pleasure shot out from my breast and scattered, lighting up every nerve. I was struck speechless, which was a new thing for me.