" I blinked." I blinked. In text, he's usually much more insistent, and I was told he could talk for hours on the subject, and would if I gave him the chance. "So, what brings you down and out of Rhysh?" I asked, hoping to change the subject. "Not much," he admitted. "I just wanted to spend some quiet time alone in town. Doesn't look like that's going to happen." "Lots of invitations?" "Yes," he replied, smiling. "The trouble with being a celebrity." I laughed. "The same thing happened to me. I came down for some quiet, and instead the action seems to be finding me." He laughed himself, and said "Well, we could always generate the action between the two of us, eh?" He poked me in the side. "Stop that," I replied. "What's wrong?" he asked, poking me again in the ribs, tickling. I laughed and tried to squirm away, succeeding only in burying myself deeper into the restaurant booth. "Stop it, Kritt." "Can't take a little tickling?" he asked, teasing. "I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Tickled!" I growled as he continued tickling me though my thin shirt. "Is that safeword?" he growled gently, looking down at me. I was trying to retreat further into the corner, to give him as little surface area as possible to work on. Despite that, he was still managing to find plenty of places where I was ticklish. Among my other great weaknesses is the classic sin of pride. I don't like to call safeword when I know I can take what's being done, and this was one of those cases. "No, sir," I said through clenched teeth. "Good," he replied, leaning over to kiss me. And his kiss was incredible-- his hot, thick tongue sought mine, playfully, fighting and struggling. It was almost instinct as I returned the kiss, pushing against him. Sometimes I love to be assaulted like this, taken and swept off my feet. |