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play with it, easing it between my lips and sucking on it – and now I have your full attention, Matt Richards, don’t I?
    â€˜What’s on your mind?’
    â€˜You’re on my mind, and I don’t know if it’s just the alcohol talking but there are things I really want to know.’
    â€˜Ask away,’ Matt replies, reaching for his bottle again.
    â€˜Why isn’t there a ring on your finger?’
    â€˜Why isn’t there one on yours?’ he replies.
    â€˜I asked first.’
    â€˜That’s fair.’ He takes another swig.
    â€˜You’re stalling.’
    â€˜I am,’ he agrees. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in the institution of marriage.’
    â€˜That’s an answer.’
    â€˜But you don’t seem willing to accept it.’
    â€˜Why do you say that?’
    â€˜I can see it in your eyes, Ava, and they really are incredible. They’re not unlike looking into pools of molten chocolate.’
    â€˜That’s more like I was expecting,’ I say, not able to prevent the grin from spreading.
    â€˜What’s that supposed to mean?’
    â€˜You’re a ladykiller. I totally get it. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy and this bakery programme is the perfect vehicle for you to make a killing in the bedroom stakes but I’ve been really surprised by you all day long. No lines, no moves, until just then.’
    â€˜You do have beautiful eyes.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜What is this?’ exclaims Matt. ‘Let me make a note of this because –’ and he checks his watch ‘– at ten-oh-seven precisely, Ava Michaels accepted a compliment.’ He screws his eyes up. ‘What is your game exactly? You play the innocent but you’re far from it, aren’t you?’
    â€˜I never said I was innocent,’ I reply, reaching for my martini glass and draining it. ‘I’ve just been waiting for you to ask the right questions.’ And now the game is on for sure! I see his eyes light up.
    â€˜And here was me worrying about my moves, when you’ve got enough moves for the both of us.’
    â€˜The question really is do you want to play?’
    â€˜Do I want to play?’ he repeats, unable to stop that killer smile from creasing his lips.
    â€˜Have you got the balls?’ I lick the taste of martini from my lips. It’s not subtle but it’s not meant to be.
    â€˜Why don’t we find out?’ He empties the last of his beer bottle.
    â€˜Why don’t we?’ I reply, and the heat coming off our bodies could kick-start nuclear reactors. Let the evening now truly begin!
    The elevator doors chime closed and, like the bell at a boxing ring announcing the start of combat, the games commence. His lips burn to the touch, seeking out mine as his steely body presses me into the side wall of the elevator. The dam has been breached and all attempts at decency and order will be trampled into the dust. This is a fight for supremacy and survival. I find his lips and the strength of my own wanting leaves me gasping as I drive my tongue harder and harder into his mouth, feeling his tongue pressing back as the strength of his need for me grows and stiffens in his crotch. I feel him rigid, pressing into me, and his hard length is a very welcome distraction. My hand finds it, moulding to the shape of him against the barrier of his jeans. His lips find my neck and I let out a low moan as he presses himself into me. Three submissions and one glorious fuck is all I am looking for tonight.
    His hand squeezes my breast through the fabric of my shirt and I feel my nipple react to his touch. His palm burns me and I feel the flesh of my areola start to sizzle. My hand closes on his hand as I suck the air through my teeth. The air is starting to heat up around us. Slipping my fingers through his, I guide his hand from my breast, placing it between my thighs so his palm cups my crotch. The