Page 66 of The Step Dare

“Like I’ve saved it just for you,” I go on. “Just begging you to give me more, thinking how no one’s ever given me pleasure like that before.”

He flinches, and I take my opportunity, ricocheting the puck off the side, but he blocks again and says, “Right before I make my come face while ripping one loose in you.”

The image is so vivid—his expression locked up, his body stiff and tense as he fills me up the way I’ve filled him up so many times—that I’m frozen in place as the puck clicks off the back of my goal.

I’m expecting him to rub the victory in, the way he usually would, but we’re just standing on either side of the table, staring at each other.

All that talk we both intended to distract the other with has done so much more, and if he thinks we’re going to a gaming machine after this, he’s lost his damn mind.

Brenner smirks. “We should probably head back to our place now,” he says, echoing my thoughts.

For guys who can usually talk to each other about nothing nonstop, we’re sure awfully quiet on the trip back to our place.

Feels like it would have been better if I could have just dropped my pants right after and let Brenner have me on the air-hockey table.

But life’s never that fucking convenient, is it?

Brenner says, “I just want you to know, since you lost, I’ll be extra gentle.”

I laugh because I know that’s how he’d be anyway. “Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.”

“Obviously only until you tell me not to be gentle anymore.” He sneaks a glance at me, and I roll my eyes, though the anticipation of what we’re about to do is setting off sensations inmy chest, swirls of nerves broadcasting to the rest of my body the news of what’s about to go down. It intensifies the closer we get to the apartment.

It’s not a long trip, but sure feels like it. And we haven’t even gotten in the door before he jumps me, shoving me against the wall, his lips locking against mine.

Taking what’s his.

All his tonight.

Despite how excited I am, there are some nerves too. But I know Brenner has the experience, that he’ll do what he needs to make sure it’s comfortable for me.

We’re a fumbling mess as we make our way to my bedroom. What would usually take a minute takes about five since neither of us can keep our greedy hands off each other.

When we get into my room, I pry him off me, pushing him back so he sits on my bed.

“Feisty tonight, aren’t you?” He rests his palms on the mattress behind him. “But just so you know, if you don’t feel up to it, we don’t have to do anything.”

“A bet’s a bet.”

His eyes narrow in that sexy way they do sometimes, and he wears a mischievous smirk, clearly reveling in his well-deserved victory.

I step back from him, and he glances me over, like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m up to, which I love because it’s amazing, given how well we know each other, that I can still surprise him.

I stand in place, waiting, until he asks, “What are you doing?”

“I’m your prize. So this means you get to tell me what you want me to do.”

His eyes flare with excitement, and my cheeks warm.

“You should have told me this is how it was going to go down before air hockey. I would have kicked your ass a lot faster.”

“Please. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you break a sweat for anything other than my hole.”

His smirk expands into a grin. “Well, I’d never lie and say that wasn’t the case.”

He leans back, studying me like he’s thinking real hard about how to take advantage of this moment.

“Okay,” he says. “Strip for me.”

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