Summer rolled her eyes hard, disentangling her arms from his neck. “Why does everyone assume I’m going to go rummage in their head? I can’t help but hear what you broadcast, hon. I’m not interested in changing it.” She ran a hand through her hair, resettling it, then cocked an eyebrow at him. “Letting you share what I’m feeling … oh, say, by way of desire? Passion? That intrigue you any?”
“It’s a thing. I’d imagine that having to hear all that shit gets rather annoying. And to be honest, I don’t even like half of what’s going on in my head, so having to listen to it must be worse. But…desire and passion are feelings that I can get behind. Or in front of. Whichever, really.”
He let go of her and brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, suggestively smiling. “Sorry if I killed the mood there.”
She shrugged. “Don’t fool yourself; what I get off you is no more or less bad than what goes on in my own head. We all like to think we walk in our own personal darkness, unrivalled by anyone else.” Summer blinked, smiling with a tinge of bitterness. “Never mind.”
Cocking an eyebrow again, she added, “I’m sure someone as … experienced as you can bring the mood back, if you’re so inclined.”
“You might to sit down for this one, I’m not sure you won’t melt into a puddle if I keep going,” Tony admitted with a smirk. “I do have half a mind to just push you against that wall though….”
Summer had to laugh at his arrogance. “You could not be more arrogant if you tried, could you? Well.” Smirking back at him, full of confidence, she went on, “Please, please, Mr Stark, have your wicked way with me.”