Twisted Together (3 page)

“
I'm
not trying to surprise you,” he said gently. “But I need
you to work with me. You'll need to step it up if you expect anyone
to think we're a couple, got it?”

Staring
down at the napkins, I nodded. “Sure, fine.”
Is
he scolding me? Ugh.

I
was spared anymore of it when a bubbly, bouncing red haired girl
appeared at our side. “Hi boys!” she giggled, “what
can I get for you two?”

“
Well,”
Kris said, offering her the drink menu from the table like
he
was the server, “I think we'll take two whiskey-sours on the
rocks, please.”

Did
he just order for me?
The
waitress was staring at me, having the same thoughts. Clearing my
throat, I looked at Kris sheepishly. “Sure, that sounds fine.”
After she'd wandered off, I focused back to my companion. He was
watching me across the table, the flickering candle moving shadows
over his cheek bones. Reaching out, I slid the candle to the side. It
wasn't helping my mood. “Maybe we should use this time to bone
me up on the details about the event you're taking me too.”

He
pursed his lips. “'Bone you up?'”

My
blush was searing. “Slip of the tongue.”

Kris's
expression was enough to point out I'd done it again.

Shaking
my head quickly, I fumbled on my words. “Look—that—just
forget it, I...”

“
No
no,” he chuckled, smoothing his hair back from his face. “It's
fine, I'm just teasing. We can talk about it, I just think it's an
awfully boring conversation to have.”

“
Well,”
I said carefully, “if we're 'dating' then I should know about
you, your dad, things like that. Right?”

His
grin was sly. Under the table, I felt something brush my knee; his
foot. “Ah. If we're being realistic, I would never date someone
who wanted to know such stale details about my life. I prefer
exciting men.”

I
tightened up under his touch.
He's
too forward!
“I
thought you said you weren't—you know, uh. Gay.”

“
I
guess I did say that.” Shrugging, he slid the tip of his
expensive shoe along my leg. “It's a hypothetical. Your
personality, as it is, just isn't my style.”

“
Excuse
me?” I wasn't ready for the sour burst of distaste. I wasn't
his
type? I was about to say something, I didn't know what (certainly an
argument, though) when our waitress returned.

Setting
down the two drinks, she glanced between us. “Here you go. If
you need anything else, just wave me down.”

Staring
after her vanishing, swinging hips, I lifted my glass and took a deep
swig. It burned, the exquisite kind of burn that went from your
tongue to your belly and beyond. Kris only held his, smiling at me
over the rim. “If I'm not your type,” I muttered, “then
why even go this far?”

His
laugh was deep in his chest. Lifting his drink, he motioned it at me.
I knew what he wanted, but I hesitated to clink the glasses in a
salute. “Jack, you don't get it. Your personality isn't what
I'd go for, sure. But that's not as important to me as your looks.”

“
My
looks?” With my mouth hanging open, I waited for him to
explain.

He
closed the distance, tapping his drink on mine lightly. The sharp
sound made my heart jump. “You must know how attractive you
are, right? Don't the girls all tell you when you fall into bed with
them?”

My
face was red, sweltering. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, seeking
relief. “No, I mean, alright. They compliment me. But that
isn't the same as...”
As
you doing it,
I
thought privately. Was I nervous because I hadn't expected such
feedback? I was feeling terribly shy, I wasn't used to that.

Kris's
foot gliding up and down my calf under the table wasn't helping.

“
You're
blushing,” he noted calmly, finally sipping his whiskey-sour. I
followed suit, chugging mine down. It was easier to drink than to
talk, it gave me an excuse to work through my thoughts.

Does
he really think I'm attractive?
Ice
swirled in my glass, I'd drained the alcohol fast.
A
guy like him, how can he even think of me that way? If we were really
dating, he'd be out of my league.

“
Jack.”
He set my nerves on edge just with his voice. “Are you okay? I
suspect what I said has gotten you a little confused.”

“
No,
no.”
Yes,
very yes.
“It's
just that...” The alcohol had soaked into my brain, coaxing
words out of me before I could weigh them. “I guess I don't get
it. You think I'm attractive? A guy like you?”

“
A
guy like me?” he repeated, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“Explain.”

I
looked over his sharp features, the crisp color of his eyes. So blue,
like the ocean. “You know what I'm saying. You're handsome, in
shape, and you're rich as hell.”

His
shoe rolled up, then over, caressing my thigh. “You really
think I'm handsome?”

Fidgeting
in my seat, trying to ignore his touch, and failing, I looked away.
“Man, you just—it has to be obvious.”

“
Obvious
that
you
think I'm attractive?”

Gaping,
I hurt my neck with how I twisted back to stare at him. “Obvious
that you're just... everyone thinks you are! It doesn't matter what I
personally think.”

Kris
smirked, looking at something over my shoulder. I followed his gaze,
spotting our waitress giggling with another girl, the two of them
shooting us looks. When he lifted his glass, wiggling it, the girls
hurried out of sight. “I think the ladies are talking about us.
They must have noticed how you were blushing and staring at me,
tripping on your tongue. Maybe it
is
possible to fool people about us. Your naive charm might be key.”

It
was our goal, but thinking about people misunderstanding Kris and I
was... well.
That's
just embarrassing, isn't it? People imagining him and I as a... a
couple?

Our
waitress came back with new drinks, winking at me as she fled.
Baffled, I sipped the drink and eyed Kris, seeking an explanation.

He
just shrugged. “Some girls are into it, thinking about two hot
guys tangled together.”

The
image of Kris entered my brain, unbidden. His bare torso gleaming
with sweat, lips parted as he moaned. It was too much, it sent a
shiver down my spine. I blamed the alcohol, but that didn't stop me
from taking another swig. “I guess.”

“
No
guessing is needed. You've thought of two girls, I'm sure. It's just
like that.”

Just
like that.
Kris's
shoe dipped along my inner leg, brushing dangerously close to my
manhood. Sitting up straight, I tried to scoot away from him. “Stop
that.”

“
Stop
what?” he teased, not letting me escape. The booth was too
small to go anywhere. He traced his shoe over the front of my pants.
On reflex, I clenched my thighs, but that just trapped him against
me. His laugh raised goosebumps. “Oh, and now you don't want me
to leave.”

Frowning,
I set my drink down and spread my knees. “No, that's not
it—ah!” My cry of surprise was loud. I'd given him too
much freedom, and he was using it. The way he stroked his toe over my
cock made it twitch, a response I was not at all ready for.

He
reached across the table, eyes smoldering as he grabbed my left
wrist. “Sensitive?”

“
Stop,”
I mumbled, glancing around in paranoia. “Someone will see.”

“
Good.”
Something 'thumped' on the floor between us. When his soft,
stocking-clad foot rubbed over my shaft again, I knew it had been his
shoe. “Let them. This is what I would do on a date, this is
information for you. You asked for it. Go on, learn more about me.”

I
wanted to argue. He was humiliating me, my body responding to him in
a way that made it all worse. Clenching my teeth, I arched my back
and pushed my head into the booth padding. Kris was massaging my cock
expertly, watching me with cruel casualty. “S—stop, this
isn't right.”

He
sipped his drink, caressing me through my pants, sending sparks of
pleasure to my muddled brain. “No? Your rock-hard dick says
otherwise.”

“
I'm
not... it's not...” What could I say? He was right, much as I
loathed it. My body was eager to respond to the man, my hips starting
to grind helplessly into his heel. Kris was going to make me cum at
this rate, an idea that scared me, while also setting my pulse
vibrating.
Why
am I not stopping him? Can I even stop him? Maybe it's the alcohol.
Maybe, yeah.
It
was a poor excuse.

Leisurely,
he brushed his thumb over my inner wrist. “If you don't want me
to do it, you can get up and leave. It's pretty obvious you're
enjoying yourself, though.”

“
I'm
not,” I growled, glaring at him under knotted brows. “And
fine, I'll just leave—oh!” The pressure of his foot was
insistent, pumping over my stiff dick like he was jerking me off. My
mouth went numb, all cotton and butter.
How
is he so good at this? What's wrong with me, I need to... to...

“
Jack,”
he said under his breath. “Aren't you leaving?”

The
stroking he was doing matched my heartbeat. “Y—yes,
I'm...”
Fuck
fuck fuck.

He
propped his cheek on his free hand. “Of course, if you leave,
our deal is off.” Kris was turning my muscles to jelly. How
could I be so weak?

“
W—what?”
I asked, rocking into his touch, my prick throbbing with lust. “No,
that isn't fair. You can't just decide that!”

Kris
didn't care about fair. That became clear the instant he sped up his
grinding, then just as my breath was catching, dropped his foot away.
My plaintive mewl of frustration left me scalding. “Sorry, was
I making it too difficult for you? There, maybe you can think
easier.”

Panting,
I shifted on the seat and adjusted my raging erection. My cock had
begun to weep precum, it soaked a damp patch into the front of my
jeans. “What are you trying to do?”