Page 59 of Remember Me

I busied myself taking more tiles and arranging them. First one way, then another. I chewed on my lip. I had one choice as far as I could see…or maybe Hayes was right, and my mind was in the gutter.

“Problem?” he asked, voice silky.

“Just…thinking.”

Taking a deep breath, I laid my word out, building on the letters that were already there. COCK.

Hayes grunted and swiped his tiles. “Damn, Mini. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I can be dirty when I want.”

He looked up at me from under hooded lids. “That right?”

I nodded and licked suddenly dry lips. Hayes ran a finger over the top of his tiles and then sat back. With a decisive movement, he grabbed the neckline of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

“Oh.” It was all I could think of to say, presented as I was with miles and miles of skin stretching supple and taut over the caliber of muscles I didn’t often see outside of movies. Hayes was built. He was an athlete, and it showed.

I swallowed. Tiles. I needed tiles.

A long minute later, I gave up arranging and rearranging my letters. I had a good rack of letters. Options. But all I wanted to do was undress. Slowly, I stood up. Hayes followed my movement but remained silent, even when my fingers moved to the button on my jeans and I pushed them over my hips.

When I reached my ankles, I realized I’d forgotten to take my shoes off and huffed in annoyance. Super sexy. I toe-heeled them off and finished removing my jeans, then sank back down.

“Out of moves?”

“For the next two rotations after this, apparently.” I smiled, nervous.

“That’s a shame.” Hayes shifted closer to me.

“It’s terrible.” I slid my Scrabble rack to the side.

“Horrible.”

“I’m not going to say it’s no good.”

“But it’s very bad.” He raised into a crawling position, and with a swipe of his arm, pushed our plates to the side and sat back on his heels. “C’mere.”

“What about the game?” I did as he said, scooting forward on my knees until our torsos were a breath apart.

“You win.” His hands reached out to cradle my jaw and he leaned in to trace my mouth with his in a feather-light caress. “I want you, Birdie.” He followed his statement with a hard kiss, ended too quickly as he rested his forehead against mine. “You’re driving me crazy.”

I laid a palm on his chest, felt his heart thumping under the thin material of his tee shirt. Slowly, I lowered my hand, grazing my fingertips down his ribcage and abs before moving away. Without breaking eye contact, I took the hem of my shirt in hand and lifted it slowly, deliberately over my head.

As close as we were, I felt rather than saw his intake of breath as his eyes dropped to my breasts in their plain cotton bra. I’d wanted to wear something pretty, something lacy and feminine, but I didn’t own such a thing. It didn’t seem to bother Hayes. His eyes were fixed on my chest, an expression of wonder in their depths. My lips twitched. Guess he was a breast man. He reached out a hand to cover one, a finger brushing lightly over the upper swell. Then he was standing, lifting me to my feet and into his arms like I weighed nothing, kissing the hell out of me as he gripped my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist.

He turned to the bed behind him, falling upon it in a heap of limbs as his feet tangled in the blanket on the floor. He fell carefully, if there was such a thing, hovering above me with his elbows planted beside my head. Dipping his head, he sucked gently at the pulse of my neck, sending a bolt of sensation through my core.

But I wanted to touch him. Emboldened, I pushed him to his back, and his skin was there, under my fingers, my mouth, my greedy palms, his abs contracting in a gasp as I tongued a spot on his ribs.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Not yet, Birdie. I won’t last with you touching me.” He rolled me to my back and ran his mouth from the tender skin between my breasts to my navel, a line of fire following in its wake and making me tremble and gasp.

“Off…” I pushed at the waist of his jeans and he complied, unbuttoning and unzipping and pushing them over his hips. I sat up on my elbows to watch as Hayes stood and shucked them swiftly, kicking out of them and knocking over my margarita in the process. I grinned and shrugged, holding out my arms. Holding my eyes, he dropped his boxer briefs and stood in front of me, proud and erect. He palmed himself in a loose tug while I watched, humor fading and my mouth going dry.

I’d seen penises before. I may have been a virgin, but I’d done stuff. Hayes was beautiful, long and thick and bobbing softly before me. My core throbbed just looking at him.

“Your turn.” His voice was gravel.

Holding his gaze, I slipped the straps of my bra down and unhooked the front clasp. I held it for a moment before letting it fall, and then lay back on the bed, hooking my thumbs into my panties to remove them. The bed dipped as Hayes came down beside me, one hand propping up his head and the other on mine, pausing my movements. The rush from earlier had faded, replaced with lazy intent. “Let me.”

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