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I scoop a spoonful of rice with chicken, my eyes on his pale green ones. “You’ll have to work harder for that, Carson.” He narrows those eyes but only for a second before he takes a piece of cucumber and munches on it. Hard. I know he’s trying to make me think he’ll bite my dick or something equally obnoxious, but it’s only managing to stimulate my cock into a state of arousal. What a flirt. “Oh, he must be your favorite,” Mom says. “He’s so well-mannered and loveable.” “It’s okay. I think he just needs time,” Carson replies with a boyish smile. Letting my lips curve with a grin, I say, “I think you’re the one who’s been stalling for time.” He purses his lips and my grin widens. Why does messing with him bring me so much joy? I love his reactions around me and how he can’t really control them. “Or maybe you already have another favorite,” Carson shoots back. “You can share with the table, Professor.” I’d say Jones, but then I’d be putting a target on her back. I joke about it, but Cars