It started with a look. Not one of those smoldering, soul-piercing glances you read about. No, this was different. A quick flick of her eyes, a tilt of her head--like she knew something I didn't.
She was stretched out on the couch, her legs tucked under her. She'd taken over my hoodie again, the sleeves bunched up around her wrists.
"You're staring," she said without looking away from the TV.
"You're in my hoodie," I shot back.
She smirked. "It looks better on me."
She wasn't wrong.
She had this way of making the simplest things feel like a game. She could turn folding laundry into a competition and somehow win. And right now, I could tell she was up to something.
Her foot nudged my thigh. "You look bored."
"I'm not."
Her head tipped toward me, all fake innocence. "Oh. I thought maybe you needed some... attention."
I laughed. "Subtle."
"Who said I'm subtle?" She sat up, curling her legs beneath her. "I think I like you better when you're flustered."
"I don't get flustered."
Her brow lifted. "Is that a challenge?"
Before I could answer, she swung one leg over my lap, straddling me with her arms draped lazily around my neck. Her weight sank into me, and that familiar spark danced along my spine.
"Okay, maybe a little flustered," I admitted, sliding my hands to her hips.
She leaned in until her lips brushed my ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Told you."
I exhaled sharply through my nose, fighting the grin tugging at my mouth. "I'm letting you win."
Her nails traced a line down the back of my neck. "That's cute. You think you're in control."
I tightened my grip on her hips in response, but she only smiled wider--like I'd fallen right into her trap.
"Poor thing," she cooed, tilting my chin up with one finger. "I should really be nicer to you."
I didn't bother answering. My hands slid under her hoodie, palms gliding up the soft skin of her back. She arched slightly at the touch, but her eyes stayed locked on mine, daring me to push further.
Her lips hovered just shy of mine, her breath warm against my skin. "Say please."
I exhaled a quiet laugh. "Not happening."
Her mouth curled in triumph as she rolled her hips--slow, deliberate.
I gritted my teeth.
"Still not flustered?" she teased.
"Fine." I leaned in, letting my lips graze the corner of her mouth. "Please."
"See?" she murmured against my skin. "That wasn't so hard."
I wasn't so sure about that.
She kissed me, slow and sweet at first. But the thing about her--she never stayed sweet for long.
And I didn't mind one bit. Her kiss deepened, but she kept it playful--pulling back just enough to make me chase her. Every time I leaned in, she'd retreat with that smug little smirk on her lips.
"You're enjoying this way too much," I muttered.
"Oh, I know." Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back. "You make it too easy."
I could've flipped her right then. Pinned her under me, taken the lead. But something about the way she moved--completely unhurried, perfectly in control--made me want to let her have it.
"Relax," she whispered, her lips trailing along my jaw. "You can handle being on the back foot for once."
I dragged my hands down her sides, feeling the way her body responded under my touch. "Who says I'm on the back foot?"
She leaned back just enough to meet my gaze, her brow arching. "Aw. You really think that, huh?"
Her hips shifted again, and any semblance of control I thought I had went straight out the window.