Page 116 of Play the Game

God, stop it.

I force myself to look away when my face heats. I take a deep breath.

I’m acting like a thirteen-year-old girl with her first crush.

It’s ridiculous but not in the same breath. When I was thirteen, I was too busy cleaning up my mother’s messes and trying to keep our house in order so social services didn’t show up and separate my brother and me.

The sweet taste of first love was something I never experienced.

When I had my first real adventure with the opposite sex, I didn’t even mention that I was a virgin. I just jumped headfirst and needed it to be quick so I could get on with my responsibilities.

But with Emory, it’s different.

When he looks at me, I can’t think straight.

When he touches me, I lose my footing.

When he kisses me, I’mhis.

I’ve never wanted to be on someone’s mind like I want to be on Emory’s.

I’m obsessed with the thought of him needing to touch me.

Like he can’t breathe without it.

That’s how he makes me feel, but it’s too scary to admit out loud, so instead, I just scoot a little closer to feel his warmth through the blankets and close my eyes.

A moment later, his finger grazes my arm.

My heart skips a beat, but I act like I’m asleep. My body relaxes with every single swipe of his knuckle against my skin. Without meaning to, I move even closer. There’s a needy dip in my stomach, and my lungs expand with a secret that I’m afraid I’ll tell if I move even an inch.

But then his hand falls to my thigh.

Heat rushes to the spot.

Emory inhales and pulls my leg higher. I drape it across his strong thighs. Moving my knee just slightly, I get a quick brush of his desire, and it is too much to ignore. I don’t have to act on it, but I most definitely can’t pretend it isn’t there. Every nerve ending is frayed with the chemistry swarming between us.

The silence is deafening.

The darkness blankets me like protection, and that’s the only reason I allow myself to act without reservation.

My touch against his skin has obvious doubts, but his against mine feels purposeful. I’m acting with hesitancy, whereas he is acting with possession.

“Stop holding back,” he whispers, grabbing the side of my face. His calloused hand scratches my cheek, and when his fingers bury themselves in my hair, I do as he says. For the first time, I initiate the kiss.

I’m immediately swept away.

I start off slow, kissing him with caution, but as soon as he pulls me on top of him, I deepen the kiss and lose myself.

My legs fall to his sides, and I press down. I’m in nothing but one of his shirts and my panties. With each subtle drag of his hands up my thighs, I kiss him harder. My tongue swipes against his, and a little moan leaves me when his fingers dig into my hips.

“That’s it,” he encourages, gripping me tightly as I rub against him. “We’re too far gone to hold back now, Scottie.”

The more I move, the harder he gets. He curses under his breath, and I tingle. My skin is on fire, so I grip the hem of the T-shirt and strip it from my body.

His hand creeps up my back, and he presses me toward his mouth. I gasp when his tongue flicks against my nipple.

“Show me that you want me as badly as I want you,” he says, giving my other breast attention.

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