threaten to call the authorities, while the chap behind the counter would beat his meat all over that fresh pastry dough he’s got laid out. I’d never forget it, that I’m certain of.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she interrupts the blissful musings running through my mind.
“You look positively stunning in navy. I fancy your hair like this as well,” I murmur, and her chest flushes.
Her full tits are another thing entirely, just waiting for me to have my fun with them. Perhaps I’ll come all over those brilliant titties after I have my fill of her pussy. I’ve got to get her barriers down and make this happen. Of course, I could always just throw her down and take what I want. I’ve rarely had any bird fight me on it, but I bet Ismerlda would. She’d probably claw my eyes out if I attempted to take what I want from her, and that knowledge only has me craving her fiercer.
When did I become the sappy bloke all tied in knots who gives a royal fuck, anyhow? She was hurled into my life through a mere favor to my best mate, and now I’m imagining white picket fences with her? That’s not me, it’ll never be, and I’m perfectly complacent with the fact. It’s far time I get my head on straight again.
“Oh, we’re giving compliments now? Okay, I’ll play. You look handsome today as well. I happen to like a man in a well-fitted suit.”
“Thanks, I think,” I mutter, my forehead screwed up with wrinkles, not sure what to do with her. She gets me out of sorts, as I never know if she’s being serious or not. If she weren’t going to be my bride soon enough, then I’d not waste any more of my time with her at all.
Wearing a devious grin, she lightly puts the tip of her finger in the hot tea. She stuns me by reaching across and touching it to my lips with the warm liquid. “Is it up to your standards, Brit boy?”
Parting my mouth, my tongue flicks out, tasting the pad of her index finger. I nip at the flesh as she moves to pull it away. “Delightful. I’d fancy a bit more, if you’re offering,” I reply a bit gruffly. My cock is damn near tenting my trousers and will be if she keeps this bit of flirting up. I need to fuck, badly.
“Good thing you have a full cup in front of you then, huh?” she murmurs, and I have to shake my head so I can think straight. The bloody tart transforms me into a bumbling tosser. I refuse to become a weak arse because I get twitter pated with her stare.
I don’t have a chance to reply as our sandwiches and crisps are set down in front of us. I get an extra plate filled with crisps. The kid also places extra napkins at the end of the table and asks if we have any more requests. I ignore him completely, while Ismerlda thanks him and sends him on his merry way.
“I could think of better things to eat,” I mention, staring at my food and taking a hefty bite. It has her cheeks flaming, and another point goes in my direction in this quiet battle of wills we seem to constantly be entwined in. She’ll learn soon enough that I won’t back down from her. She can toss her adorable little attitude and stubborn streak in my direction all she desires, I won’t fold. This went from a favor, to intriguing, to a challenge.
Game on, darling, game on.
The bloke from the counter returns and I glower. “Oh sod off, man. Can’t you see this is bloody private?” I’m ready to rearrange his face, or toss him to Andre to dispose of. I want to be alone with Ismerlda in our own bubble filled to the brim with sexual tension and unspoken promises.
“Pezzo di merda!” the feisty Italian beauty hisses across from me. I need her to speak like that when I’ve buried myself in her to the hilt.
“What was that, darling? I’m familiar with a bit of your gibberish, but not everything.”
“Porca miseria!” she reprimands and follows it up with another scalding slap, sending my brain spinning.
To say I’m shocked is an understatement. We went from flirting to fighting and my cock’s never been harder. It appears her tantrums have a way of turning me on. I’m a glutton for punishment, I