“Boys will be boys.”
By God, he was no boy, and he wouldn’t allow her to mistake him for one. For the rest of this game, he planned to use every trick in his arsenal to fluster her and keep that blush burning in her cheeks.
He began slowly. A long sip of red wine while his eyes focused unblinking on her lips the entire time. When he gave her a slow wink over the tip of the glass, her blush deepened and spread to both ears. Ah, sweet victory.
Hiding a smile, he picked up his cup of dice and rolled them onto the board. A three and a four. He licked his fingertip and traced it along his lower lip before moving one of his men the requisite seven steps.
The blush moved across the bridge of her nose, to the very place his lips had touched only seconds ago. Satisfied, he picked up his dice to return them to his cup, but accidentally brushed against her wrist as she reached for her own cup. At the simple contact, her mouth opened in a wide o. He couldn’t stop the idea that came to mind.
One quick sip of wine, and he pressed his mouth against hers, transferring the warm, spicy liquid into her mouth. She yanked away from him so quickly the game pieces scattered across the board and onto the floor. While he bit back his laughter, she stared at him aghast, her eyes tearing.
“Swallow it, silly,” he ordered.
Her neck bobbed when she did as he instructed.
“It’s good, right?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, doe eyes fixed on him in wonder.
“There, see? I told you that you didn’t know the proper way to drink red wine.”
She gave no reply. She merely sat across from him, her hand holding an empty dice cup, transfixed.
The moment Jeff’s lips closed over hers, a whoosh roared through April’s ears. Then a sweet pungent liquid filled her mouth. Blood? No. As the liquid danced and fizzled over her tastebuds, she realized he’d transferred the wine in his mouth to hers. The idea left her breathless.
As awareness filtered into her senses, panic seized her, and she pushed away with all the force her limp body could muster. She wanted to gasp, but the wine inside her cheeks prevented her from forming a sound.
“Swallow it, silly,” he’d said and so she had.
Unlike the sweet White Zinfandel April normally sipped, this wine had a stronger aftertaste and a thicker consistency. But she couldn’t deny she liked the taste. Or did Jeff’s bizarre method of exchanging the beverage add to the flavor? No answer came to her.
Confusion muddled her thoughts. All she wanted now was escape, a quick retreat before she surrendered.
“Excuse me,” she murmured and fled the room.