Harmless Flirting Novels & Stories

He placed the loofah back on the shelf, letting the water rinse away the soap that slicked his body, scowling while he rubbed the bar between his hands. Who was he kidding. He'd been flirting. Flirting! The word sat in the steam with him. Flirting implied intent. It implied that some part of him had been performing for Gunner's benefit, had been angling for a reaction, had wanted to be noticed in a specific way. That was not the behavior of a man who had a purely professional interest in smoothing over a work relationship. That was the behavior of a man who was in something, and the something had a name, and the name was not one he was going to say out loud in his own shower even though he w

Cathy's eyes drilled back at Jena's. "So, you mean, I can't flirt with him? And you're hands-off to me?" She was shaking her head thoughtfully. "You know, a little flirting is healthy for your relationship. It makes it stronger. If your bond cannot stand those trivial things, then don't expect to have a lasting relationship." "So you mean flirting with me won't destroy our relationship?" Colton asked in disbelief. "You're still so young. You have to wise up to the ways of the world. No, it won't, silly boy." She went over to Colton and caressed his cheeks.

I was headed back to London and he back to the state of Washington where he was overseeing an engineering project. If romp implies sex, we didn’t romp. We had attraction—off-the-chart sparks—enough to ignite a forest fire with a side of some teenage making out—without the teenage clumsiness—but that was all. You could say that the lack of sex is another element to the drought I mentioned. Seriously, if things don’t look up, my vagina may dry up and blow away.

“Run into a strange woman on the sidewalk and want to make her smile? Flatter her with flirty, sexy talk. Want to charm an old grandma? Flirt with her too. Want to intimidate someone or make them uncomfortable? Bring up sex. Need to distract someone from a serious issue? Throw out more sex talk. It is literally the only reaction you have in your arsenal of comebacks, isn’t it?” “Well, strangling you sounds pretty appealing to me at the moment,” I muttered, beyond disgusted that my plan wasn’t working, “if you need me to branch out on my proclivities.” “No,” she murmured softly and shook her head sympathetically, as if she felt sorry for me. “You’re not going to hurt me. You’re not going to h

Others would say he's just doing his job, or he is trying to be polite, but I think differently. “ Are you flirting with me?” My voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. Yes, I am going to cause a scene if he doesn't take those hazelnut eyes off my cleavages. “ I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to..” The usual line. I didn't mean to sound offensive? The pervert was still leering at me, making my blood simmer with wrath. I only find flirting less offensive when the person flirting with me is above my standards.

All my nerves sparkle. “Flirting like a nob. How am I doing?” He buries his nose in the crook of my neck, inhaling, then groaning. “Perfect.” My face is flaming, but I don’t care. The embarrassment is secondary to the excitement. Our bond is fizzling. He likes me here. “How do scavengers flirt?” he asks, his voice rough. “Usually, the male chases the female.” “Texts her and stuff like that?” “No. Like chases her.” I wriggle a hand free and run two fingers up his arm like legs.

She said, pushing away and added, “He deserved that. Normal, healthy flirting is okay, but creepy looks and creepy flirting is a no no.” “What is healthy flirting?” I asked her standing before her. “Ok! Now watch carefully.” She replied and slowly walked towards me with a small smile and different look like a mischievous look. “Shall we go for coffee Handsome?” She asked, trailing her finger on the table. “Uh... um... yeah, sure.” I replied stuttering. “This is healthy flirting or that’s what I think.” She said, shrugging and turned to walk away. “What about coffee?” I asked her.

“You putting the moves on that – that woman!” “Whaaat?!” he grinned, then shook his head like I had it all wrong. “No, no – that was just a little friendly flirting.” “Friendly flirting is ‘that color looks nice on you.’ That was NOT friendly flirting.” “Sure it wa– ” “Why are you even fucking flirting in the first place?! And in front of me! Do you know how disrespectful that is?” “To who?” “To ME!” He stared at me like I’d just grown a second head. “Are you serious?”

I had no right to feel this angry, this jealous. The waitress winked before walking away. I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my temple. “She’s bold.” He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. “She’s just being nice.” “Is that what you call it?” I said before I could stop myself. His brow arched slightly. “What would you call it?” I stared at the condensation on my glass. “Flirting.” He leaned back, folding his arms. “And that bothers you because…?”

Leah had a small camera meant for random photos that may prove useful later. Hoping he did not have dirty plans, we followed. His flower garden was actually impressive. The air had a sweet floral smell, the kind that made you want to stay there forever. “Aren’t they beautiful?” We nodded and smiled politely, standing near him. “They’re beautiful,” Leah said. “It smells heavenly here,” I commented. “Not more beautiful than the two of you,” he added. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Flattery didn’t work for me. People who like using flattery are usually very manipulative, which makes them quite dangerous. They know what people want to hear and use it against them.