Foreman leaned back in his chair and raised his chin, grinning warmly up at Amber when she climbed onto his lap. About as close as she could get, probably no room for daylight to show between them. He wrapped his arms around her in turn. The light of challenge in her eyes spurred him to act, but he held off for a moment. It wouldn't be any fun if she expected his reaction. He shifted slightly, trying to be sure of how much the chair could handle, and centering his balance, under the guise of having even better access to grope her ass. "I like you," he agreed quietly, one final distraction before he moved.

With a heave--not the best idea from a sitting position, and fuck, he'd really have to stretch out later--Foreman pushed to his feet, hands under Amber's ass boosting her up. He lifted her to his shoulder, hugging her around the knees, at the same moment that he stood up. The table, thank fuck, hadn't been too close; no crash of cutlery and broken plates. The chair teetered then fell to the floor with a crack. Foreman delivered a slap to Amber's ass that resounded with only a slightly less satisfying smack. "But sneaks get caught." He spun around--good thing she hadn't eaten much breakfast, and Foreman hoped he hadn't pushed this too far--and headed for the bedroom. It was the only place he could think of to dump Amber before she started fighting like a wildcat. He went in, glad there wasn't anything in the way of his feet, and then more or less tossed Amber on the bed.

No use giving up an advantage, either. Foreman leaped on top of her a second later and went with the only tactic that could possibly match Amber's headlock--he reached under her armpits with crooked fingers and tickled her for all he was worth.