Flirty Comebacks Novelas e Histórias

“And satisfying. Best sex of my life. We should do it again.” Sarcasm thickens her voice, I make a kissy face and she flips me the bird. It earns her a spank on the ass. The naughty woman retaliates by stepping on my foot. I wince and she sticks out her tongue. “Serves you right.” “What was that, El?”

Picking it up, I saw Nolan's name light up the screen with a simple message: "Hey, you up?" A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I took a moment before replying, my fingers hovering over the keys as I debated what to say. Finally, I typed, "Yes, I’m up." Almost instantly, a response came back. "Couldn't sleep?" I chuckled softly. "Something like that. What about you?" "Same here. Too much on my mind. But thinking about you helps." There it was—flirting. It had been a while since I’d felt this nervous flutter in my stomach. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I kept it light. "Is that so? I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing."

"Hey Alec, what's flirting?" He flashed me a grin. "Well, flirting is exactly what you and I were doing a while back." "And what's that?" "The art of flirting is to impress someone by the way they compliment them or make em smile. You made me smile a while back so you were flirting with me." "Oh," I said as realization dawned in. I made Hunter smile a lot too, that means I flirted with him. "Well, does that make us friends?" "Yes." He said. "Of course. We are friends. Hey listen, I have like two tickets for a movie on Saturday, you wanna come with?"

Clara yelled at him while he grabbed her by her waist. "Oh, you want to see me without a towel? I am sorry. I can't offer that now" his reply made her widen her eyes. His flirty dialogues are back? Why does he wanna flirt with her again? Clara could feel her heart flip with his flirty comments as usual.

Knowing Marco for years now, it would take a lot of willpower for you not to fall for his charms but flirting with him is trending on dangerous grounds because in no time you would find yourself in his bed and that is the last thing I need right now. "Say something? See I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything." "I'm sorry that some of the things I say or do come out as flirty . I promise it wasn't intentional." "I knew it. I shouldn't have even brought it up. Now you must think me a pervert. I promise you, I'm not. I wouldn't lie that you don't make me feel some type of way when I'm with you but I promise, I don't dwell on it. In fact, I wave these feelings aside when they come. Lastly I don'

She quickly regained her composure and whispered something into Ursula's ear. Ursula's face tightened with worry as she helped Clara down from the stage. [She's so cunning. I can't believe she pretended to be sick just to avoid being exposed.] [What a manipulative vixen!]

She was openly gloating. "It's fine. Take it. As for her, I'll pick up something for her later. She'll treat anything from me like a treasure." That line landed like a slap, drawing a ripple of stifled snickers around us. Old, dusty memories surged up and knocked me off balance for a second. I really had been that woman once. I had treated everything he gave me like treasure. Once, I gave him a perfume I'd spent months crafting as a gift. Later, I found it in the club restroom, being used as an air freshener.

I said, low and deadly, “why were you flirting with that freak like he was going to take you home and fuck you on the balcony?” Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re unbelievable.” “Am I?” “That wasn’t flirting. It was a conversation.” My laugh was humorless. “Right. You talk to me like I’m a plague. But he shows up with his side part and his sweat stains and suddenly you’re giggling like a schoolgirl.” “Because he was nice,” she snapped. “Something you wouldn’t understand.” “If you wanted nice,” I shot back, stepping closer, “you wouldn’t keep kissing me.”

“Just that you two couldn't tone down the smiles.” I tilted my head. “Seriously?” He shrugged. “What? I’m just saying. From what I saw, you two couldn’t stop looking at each other as well.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And that little goodbye? That was flirting.” “She did the same to you,” I pointed out. “Nah. Nah.” He shook his head slowly. “I know what I saw.” He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s either that… or she’s just…cute”

Don’t be late. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, my chest pounding. Don’t be late? The text sounded demanding, controlling even, but my stomach fluttered at the thought. My lips curved into a small, mischievous smile. I typed back: I’ll try my best… but no promises. The texts kept coming in small bursts over the next few hours, playful, flirty, teasing without being too obvious to anyone else who might glance at my phone. I found myself laughing at his dry humor, the sharpness in his words that reminded me exactly why I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And somewhere deep down, I realized I wanted to see where this went, whatever “this” was.