She places one hand on her hip and rolls her eyes like a spoiled little brat. What I wouldn’t give to discipline that sass out of her. “Dinner?” No, I can’t stay for dinner. I need to get home and take a shower. During which I will jerk off to the image of your ass in those pants. “You can shower here,” she offers, and for a horrifying minute, I wonder if I said that out loud. “You know, ’cause you’re kind of sweaty.” She wrinkles her nose, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Well, working you out is a tough job, Joey.” Her eyes darken with heat.
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