Page 59 of Force Play

She asked me to make her forget and when I’m done with her she’ll be too tired to think of anything but how I made her feel.

“I can’t.”

“You can. Let go, Baby. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Her back arches and the leg over my shoulder trembles. She’s right there, so I pull her swollen clit into my mouth, letting my teeth graze it. This time when she moans my name it’s paired with a warm gush, coating my face just like I wanted. It’s not until she’s pulling my head away, panting and begging for a break that I let my head fall to her stomach and catch my breath.

With the sun down and the temperature outside cooling, I scoop her up, leaving the pile of clothes behind.

When I step into the house and turn toward the stairs, she stops me. “Not up there.”

And fuck if that doesn’t mess with my head. Does she not want to taint our night together with whatever is happening now, or does she wish it never happened?

“Whatever you want.”

“Couch.” Her dark hair tickles my chin as she nods towards the living room. “It’s not like you to be this humble about being right.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. But I don’t want to argue with you when I could have my head buried between your legs again. Unless you’re ready to talk, that is.”

She shakes her head, promptly burying it in my neck, and it’s the most connected I’ve felt to her since our first night together—when she was wrapped in my arms, looking up at me like I hung the damn moon. Before she told me that she couldn’t be with me and walked out of my life, taking away the future I could already envision. Now she’s back, but I still don’t know where that leaves us.

When I lower Indie to the couch, she brushes against my painfully hard cock and I groan, squeezing it through the wet material as I kneel between her legs.

“You’re really not going to let me help you with that?” Her lashes flutter as her eyes drop from the bulge in my pants to the tattoo on my thigh. Like she can’t help herself, she reaches out tracing the lines of it.

“It’s yours anytime you want it.” I shudder under her featherlight touch and her fingers dance higher, tracing Ares’s helmet, until they are slipping under the damp fabric of my undies, making my cock jump.

“Most people probably think you’re more like Aphrodite, with that pretty boy face and easygoing personality, and maybe you are in a lot of ways.” Her palm flattens on the flank of my quad covering the goddess and her doves. “But the God of War was tenacious like you and he did the unexpected and gave Aphrodite what she was missing in her marriage to Hephaestus. People underestimate you in the same way, me included.”

Her hand starts its path north again. Snagging her wrist, I stop her pursuit before she can snap the thin leash of control that I’m tenuously holding on to. “Are you going to let me take you upstairs and tell me how much you’ve missed this?”

“No.” She swallows roughly as I lean over her on the couch, our lips nearly touching. Her eyes lower and for a second, I think she might actually kiss me. “I’m not.”

“Then put those hands to use and play with your tits while you come all over my face again.”

With one last glance at my lips, she covers her breasts with hands and kneads them.

“You listen so well when you’re riding my tongue.” Her eyes fall closed and a mumbled insult falls from her lips, but I count it as a win because she thought about kissing me, letting me take her to bed, and most importantly, she’s seeing that I’m not the guy who hurt her.

Chapter 21

Indie

Shimmying my legs, I try to work my blankets off. It’s too damn warm, but the strangest thing happens: they huff, tightening around me. Because they aren’t blankets. They’re a strong, familiar set of arms that I’ve somehow fallen into again.

And boy did I fall, right into a bottomless well of bliss. This man is the maestro of my clit, a true virtuoso with his tongue. An oral ace. I swear I saw a bright light beckon me to it at one point when he had me pinned down to his pool lounger, doing his best work to make sure the only thing on my mind was how he devoured me. He wouldn’t shut up about it and I only have myself to blame for that.

“Stop squirming or I’ll hold you down and make you come again,” my human blanket mumbles, his eyes still closed. His lips brush my forehead and I have to force myself to stay still because every instinct in me is telling me to kiss him, but that would send the wrong message.

When I finally tapped out last night and told him no more, he ordered us food, because as much as he likes to pretend he could live off eating just my pussy, it takes food to grow all those muscles he’s working with.

With piles of chinese to share he turned on reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos and fed me bites of dumplings from his chopsticks between laughs at other people’s expense. It was exactly what I needed to put me at ease; something I’m noticing happens more often than not when he’s around. At some point I must have nodded off. Maybe all my assumptions about him are shortsighted, because he’s nothing like my ex, Jensen. The only other people who’ve made me feel this settled are Poppy and my mom.

Brushing his too long hair back from his face, I stare up at him. What the hell am I doing? If anyone could hurt me the way my ex did, it’s the baseball player sleeping soundly beside me.

It’s not long before my eyes drift shut and I succumb to the exhaustion that’s still bone deep from yesterday.

This time when I wake up, the sky outside is blue, and the warmth is coming from the sun beating in through the wall of windows behind me. The man who spent all night holding me is nowhere to be found. Slowly sitting, I look around. The shirt he pulled over my head last night isn’t enough now that I’m alone in his house wondering where the hell he is. Next to the couch I find my boot and on the coffee table is a mug of pitch black coffee that makes my heart skip a beat. Excellent.

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