She plays 'hard to get'

"My Mr. Hawkfeather, whatever do you think you're doing?" Monica's voice is husky as she wiggles experimentally in your arms - not hard enough to pull away, just enough to feel the strength in your arms.

"I think I'm taking what a teasing flirt has been offering ever since she stepped into my office." You wrap your right arm experimentally around her slender waist feeling the firm muscle tone of her flat belly as you pull her back against you.

"What?" Monica's voice rises a little in mock panic even as she grinds her ass back into your groin. "You must have misunderstood, Dean Hawkfeather, I'm not that kind of girl."

"Then what kind of girl are you, Miss Fulton?" You growl into her ear sending a tremor through her frame. You're not much of a game player, but you are starting to get a sense about what Monica is doing.

"Please, Sir." Monica's voice rises a half octave and takes on a hint of a whine. "I'm a good girl, Sir. I am, you can't **** me like this."

"So you didn't just talk your way into my office and then pirouette around in this flimsy sundress showing off your sexy young body?" You chuckle softly brushing your fingertips across her soft lips.

"No Sir, you asked me to come in, and then you tricked me into your bedroom." Her struggles grew a little more determined, "Oh my God! You're so strong, what are you going to do to a helpless young woman like me once you have me on that bed?"