<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/1b/20/f2/1b20f29350c1177f2051604927cc4c94.jpg)</div>As your attention is solely on me, my world also narrows simply to you. The party, the other guests, the rest of the world fades away until it is simply you and I engaged in…<br/><br/>….whatever type of conversation we were having at the moment.<br/><br/>Because you had just called me a bitch. Although that wasn’t the first time a man had done so – hell, it wasn’t the first time a man who wanted in my pants had done so either – it was still surprising to me the lines you were willing to cross. My eyebrows must be into my hairline by now they shoot so high as you give me the back-handed compliment while at the same time administering advice.<br/><br/>Bouncing my heel in irritation when you lean forward, I take another slow sip as you set a few more questions in front of me. Again, making assumptions that I would follow along with this…<br/><br/>…..confrontation? Clash of personalities?<br/><br/>Negotiation of claims to rights?<br/><br/>“Do I have a choice?” I quip out as you begin the business talk without me even assenting. “Your apparent claim to having a finger on the pulse of the network was a true one, Marlon Fontana,” I drawl out slowly, another sip of the whiskey going down my throat. I make no move to counter you leaning forward and simply stay reclined in the chair. “Exactly one other person knows I’m shopping around and that is because we discussed it at length yesterday…”<br/><br/>This time I do lean forward, meeting your eyes and letting my arms cross to rest on my knees. I know the effect it will have on my cleavage. I was counting on it. “I don’t see it as being bold. I have a goal, and I’m working towards completing it. But if you know how long I’ve been in the business, then you must be a fan.” The smile on my face is almost wicked and the glass is tilted again as the whiskey gets lower and lower with each small sip. “Been jacking off to me that long, then?”<br/><br/>