Page 48 of Play for Keeps

“You will if you want me bad enough,” she taunted.

The lilt in her voice told him she issued the challenge with the same gravity as a playground double-dog dare. He smirked in response, then bent to nuzzle the creamy skin exposed by the open collar. Her back arched when his teeth scraped the rise of one breast. “Never mind. I can find other ways of entertaining myself.”

“No, I want to,” she said, grappling for a hold on him as he slid down her body.

“Nah, that’s okay.” Ducking under the shirttail, he pressed a lingering kiss to the juncture of her hip and thigh. Then he let his tongue trace the tender crevice leading to the sweet folds of her pussy. “I’ll just…” He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his soap mixed with her arousal. Then he buried his nose in the downy nest of curls. “This seems as good a place as any to hang around a bit.”

“Oh, it’s a great place,” she answered with a husky laugh. And Millie, being Millie, spread her legs wider in blatant invitation. “Stay as long as you like.”

He brushed a kiss across the curve of her belly, a chuckle rolling through him. “So generous.” Clasping the insides of her thighs, he spread her wider still. “Accommodating.”

She moaned as his breath ruffled those damp curls. Millie pressed her heels into the mattress and lifted her hips off the bed, offering her pussy up like a trophy. “That’s me. Putty in your hands.”

Oh, yes. She’d be wet. And hot. And so fucking tight, he could lose his mind. If he hadn’t been raised believing without pain, he’d achieve no gain, he might have broken. But Ty was a professional athlete. A team player. She didn’t realize she was trying to toy with a man long accustomed to finding triumph through hard work, self-denial, and the ingrained notion that no single player could carry the day every day.

He glanced down at his hands. She might be putty, but he was hard as granite. The tips of his fingers sank into pliant flesh. His palms curved to fit the bend of her knees. He was more than twice her size and more stubborn than she could ever imagine. Raising his head, he waited until their eyes met and held. “Maybe I should wait foryouto say the magic word.”

Her laugh came fast and breathless. “I’m not that easy.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“I’m being polite.”

She added a smirk to the prim statement, which only served to increase his determination. Releasing his hold on one leg, he trailed the very tips of his fingers along the seam of her pussy. He wasn’t wrong. She was wet. And impossibly hot. Without breaking eye contact, he thrust one finger into her wet welcome.

Millie gasped, but he withdrew before she could get a word out. Planting his other hand on the mattress, he stretched up over her again. Her eyes widened with shock, then darkened with arousal when he traced her lower lip with his wet finger, coating the pillowy softness with the evidence of her own arousal.

“Suck me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and raspy.

And God help him, she did.

Eyes open but heavy-lidded, she drew the digit into her mouth. Her tongue curled around his finger, the very tip barely grazing his knuckle. She pulled him deep, sucking hard enough to make his eyes cross. He closed them, unwilling to give her even that small concession. Not until she gave up something of herself.

But of course, she wouldn’t. Not easily. Millie sucked his finger the way he dreamed of her working his dick. Fast, hard, relentless. He felt each pull down to the soles of his feet. Her mouth was hot and plush. He wanted to swap appendages. Demand she do the little flicker thing she was doing with her tongue to his dick instead.

His mind clouded, but he didn’t have to be a genius to realize Millie was as turned on by this game of brinksmanship as he was. She moved beneath him, her hips bucking and her legs restless. At last, she hooked a foot behind his knee and pressed his leg down so she could grind against his thigh. She rode him like a rodeo queen, her body gyrating in every possible direction, but she kept her seat. The heat of her pussy emanated through the thin nylon of his sweats.

“Huh-uh.” He wasn’t about to let her push him to the brink again. Not like this. Not so fast. He yanked his finger from her mouth and raised himself, holding his body up and away from hers. “You’re not gonna rush me.”

“What if I have a curfew?”

“You’ll miss it.” Pressing into his hands, he lowered to kiss her. Her hands closed around his biceps. He smiled against her mouth when she gave him an appreciative squeeze and purr. “Like that?” he asked, lifting onto his toes and following through until his arms were fully extended.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Millie flashed a million-watt smile, hooked her thumbs into his waistband, and promptly pantsed him. “Do it again,” she cooed, running the flats of her palms over his stomach.

He did as she asked. Her mouth was wet and eager, each swipe of her velvet tongue pure temptation. When he pushed up again, the tip of his cock caught the tail of the shirt she still wore. He tucked his chin to his chest and stared, captivated by every nuance of the sight. The glowing translucence of her skin against the deep blue of his shirt. Her sleek, willowy frame smothered in the voluminous fabric. Three tiny, plastic buttons kept her breasts hidden from view, but the bottom of the shirt fell open, exposing the riot of dark curls and the place he most wanted to be.

“The red hair suits you,” he said as he dipped down again. “But I have to say the brown is pretty hot too.”

“I’ve always felt like more of a redhead.” Her lips curved into an inviting smile. “Took me a while to find the right shade. I’m not really the carrot type.”

He kissed her slow and deep, their tongues circling in a sensuous, hands-in-each-other’s-back-pockets kind of dance. He felt her wriggle her hands between their bodies. She got one button open before her intention registered. Breaking the kiss, he shook his head and growled. “No. Leave the shirt on.”

A huffy laugh escaped her, but those busy hands fell to her sides. “Okay.”

“I like the way you look in my clothes.” He kissed his way down the taut tendon in her neck, then allowed himself the luxury of licking a path along her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. “I like how you look in my bed.” Hoisting his weight one more time, he rolled to the side and reached for the nightstand. “But what I like best is being inside you.”

He tore open the condom wrapper, mentally congratulating himself for not using the word that sprang to mind first.Love.He loved being inside her. But he didn’t dare use the big l-word in any context. Not when he had her right where she belonged.

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