Lorraine Hughes pinched her temples, feeling quite a headache.
You just can't flirt with a man who's experienced. He can think of that thing anytime, anywhere.
Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the door, she was pinned against it.
The hand pinching her temples was grabbed and placed above her head, met by a commanding kiss.
She didn't even have a chance to resist and was only released when she was breathless.
The hand holding her wrist relaxed, her hand slipped out and pushed against his chest, "You really are..."
"Wifey, I'm really not all that into this stuff."
Lorraine glanced at little Nathan Bolton, "Nathan Bolton, speak honestly."
Where did he learn these skills of making things up out of nowhere and pulling arguments from thin air?
"Ever since I met you, I've had to eat my words. I find myself quite into this," he said, his lips brushing against her ear, enticing her, "Over and over, endlessly, not wanting to let go. I want to hear you beg for mercy."
