Page 51 of Hat Trick

“Um, honestly I can go withwhatever.”

“Horror?” He thumbs the controller in his opposite hand and turns the TV on. The instant lighting casts his handsome face in a glow, highlighting his strong jawline and his perfectly sloped nose. With a squeeze of my hand, he adds, “I like the idea of you wanting to jump into mylap.”

Before I have the chance to process the words, I say, “I don’t think you’ll need a movie to guaranteethat.”

Again he laughs, the sound rich and throaty, and again I feel swept away on a fantasy that didn’t belong to me though it’s now one I cling to with both hands. Or with one hand—the other is gripping my fork and half stabbing mypie.

“Sounds good tome.”

Marshall selects a movie, and, as the opening soundtrack kicks in, I do myself a favor and focus on the pie. Better than staring at him like a crazylady.

The film opens with a woman screaming—she’s blonde, always the first ones to go in movies like these—and being chased by a guy with achainsaw.

Classic.

I dig into my pie with gusto, chowing down as fast as I cango.

Marshall leans over to whisper, “You swallowin’ overthere?”

If his intention was to make me think about getting on my knees before him, then he did his job well. I choke on the pie and he shoves the wine bottle at me with the order to “drink.”

I don’t think it has the same effect as drinking water in times like these, but I pull down the wine anyway. “I’m good. All set.” I set the bottle at my feet and finish off the pie, and then put that to the side, aswell.

Step One,done.

After all, I need my hands empty if I want to snuggle up against Marshall, right? And I can’t do that if I’m nursing my pie allnight.

I turn slightly, just far enough that my crossed legs brush his and my breasts are now shamelessly rubbing up against hisarm.

Marshall makes a coughingsound.

“Youokay?”

“Yup,” hegrunts.

And then he flips the script onme.

19

Hunt

Gwen hasno idea how much she’s playing with fire rightnow.

Without giving her warning, I set my pie on the seat next to me and then tug her legs over mine so that she’s curled up against me. The hem of her perfectly respectable dress rides up, exposing lush skin from her knees to just below herpussy.

And then I clamp my hands down on her thighs where I begin to knead hermuscles.

I keep my eyes on the shitty movie the whole time, unwilling to give away how much she’s affecting me rightnow.

Because sheis.

My cock is pounding at my zipper, demanding to put on a performance, and that’s a surprise all on its own because my head is pounding so loudly I’m surprised I’ve got enough blood to gravitate to two different hemispheres in mybody.

“I think we skipped the awkward, do-you-hold-me stage,” Gwen squeaks. Her moan when I rub a particular knot in her leg proves that she doesn’t give a shit how many stages weskip.

She wantsthis.

I wantthis.

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