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“Greer! Don’t make me use coercion tactics on you every time I ask you a damn question. It’s not difficult.”
He sighed, resigned to give in. “Fine. Eliana’s daughter got it for me. There. You happy now?”
I sat back and stretched my arm over the back of the booth. Greer’s eyes roamed from my face over to my biceps. Even behind his reading glasses, I could see the golden flecks in hazel irises. I raised my brows in question.
“Okay, question number one.” He looked down at the paper. “How many tattoos do you have and where are they located?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That is not the first question on the list.”
“Maybe not. But that seems like something I should know. Since I would have seen you... you know.”
His face turned red again, and the overwhelming desire to torture him arose. “Seen me what, exactly?”
He sighed and took off his glasses. Greer rubbed his eyes like he was exasperated with me. “Naked, Austin. I should have seen you... naked.”
We were at a crossroads, and I had a choice to make. I could easily send us back down that angry rabbit's hole about what happened fourteen years ago, or I could just answer the damn question. But that would be too easy.
“I have visible ink on both my arms and my chest.”
I ran my right hand over the left side of my chest, just to see if he’d squirm. And as I’d suspected, Greer’s eyes roamed over me and focused in as if he were trying to imagine them underneath my clothing. He frowned, then looked down at his paper.
The knowing smile that spread across my face had him scowling at me. It was going to be fun as hell torturing him this week. I could be affectionate as hell, then leave him hanging. Like he did to me.
But as angry as I’d been over the last decade, the anger was starting to fade. I was having to work to keep up that level of hostility toward him. The more time I spent with him, looked at him, or breathed the same air, the more I knew I couldn’t be that kind of asshole to him. But he needed to squirm a bit longer.
Greer looked at me warily, but I just smiled. “Don’t worry, G. I’ll play your games this week. No one will ever suspect we’re not head over heels in love.”
I leaned across the table, as close as I could physically manage without my dick bumping the underside of the table. “Now ask me some questions, sweetheart. But the important answers are I’m vers, but prefer to top. My favorite position is any way I can ride you hard from behind until you scream my name and coat my hand with your cum. Whether it be over your desk, over a sofa, in the bed, or over the side of your pool. The time I fucked you on the fifty-yard line was particularly memorable.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t think...” he stammered, “anyone needs ...needs to know all that.”
I smiled. “It wasn’t for anyone else. It was for you, babe.”
I ran a finger down the side of his face, making him shiver. “Why do I feel like this is your revenge?”
Smiling, I leaned back against the booth. “I guess you’ll have to trust me, won’t you?” I nodded toward the paper he’d balled up when I planted all those dirty seeds in his brain. “Ask me my favorite color. And the answer is light hazel.”
Greer stared at me a moment longer, then attempted to flatten the uncrumpled piece of paper.
“Okay,” he paused to look down. “These are this or that questions.”
I nodded my head once.
“Comedy club or live concert.”
I smirked. “Concert. I’m particularly fond of Fallen Angel.”
“I bet you are.” He looked down again at the paper.
“Going out or staying in?”
“Depends on what we’re doing.”
Greer nodded and continued on. “Fair enough. A handwritten note or text message?”
“Notes.”
His eyes found mine. “Why?
