Page 58 of Power Play

We race down the path, my flip-flops sliding on the pavement. His grip on my elbow tightens to keep me from falling. After a few minutes of our fast pace, a stitch stabs at my side and my lungs burn. I wheeze, tugging against his hold to tell him to slow down, but he jerks us off the path. I slide along wet grass as I trail behind him, trying to keep up as he pulls us farther along.

A large bolder juts out of the ground up ahead, catching my eye. With a sharp tug, I divert us toward the rock, desperate for a break. The uneven surface pokes at my ass and back when I slump onto it in exhaustion.

I track Trey as he paces back and forth just in front of where I collapsed, never going more than one foot in either direction.

“That was intense,” I say between breaths. Maybe I should move cardio up on the to-do list when we get back. “You pushed me.”

Trey pauses, tipping his head back. “That's what you want to focus on right now?”

“Yeah. You should apologize.” I'm kidding, but the tension radiating off him is freaking me out. I need something to distract him or he'll wear a rut into the soft earth beneath his pounding feet. “I fell on my ass. It hurts.”

He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and steps forward to stand directly in front of me. Pushing up, I rest both elbows back and cock my head.

“I saved your life, and you want me to apologize for getting you out of the way?”

I nod. A new, sizzling tension pulses between us. The chill in the air evaporates. My skin heats, my pulse skyrocketing higher and tighter.

I hold a tight breath as he leans closer. His large hands rest against the rock on either side of my hips. Shifting closer, he pauses, our faces an inch apart.

“I'm not sorry.” His warm breath brushes against my cheek, and my eyes flutter closed on a sigh. “Randi.” My name is a desperate plea on his lips. I peel my eyes open, locking onto his. “What are you doing to me?”

“I don't know,” I breathe. “But we shouldn't.” I reach up, my damp, trembling fingers hovering just over his cheek. “But I can't stop either.”

“It's dangerous.” He tilts his head, pressing his hot cheek into my awaiting palm. Rough facial hair from his five-o'clock shadow prickles my fingertips as I brush them across his face. His brown eyes shutter closed. “This can't happen.”

I ghost my fingers over his temple, across his forehead. Soft, silky dark strands of his hair glide past my hand as I rake it over his scalp down to the base of his neck.

“Fuck,” he says on a forced breath. “You're killing me, Randi. Stop.”

“I told you,” I whisper. Sitting up a fraction, I shorten the distance between our lips. “I can't. I want this.” A zap of blazing heat scorches through my core at the brush of my lips against his. “No, Trey, Ineedthis.”

A truer statement has never been said. I need him. Right here, right now.

His answering growl sends another bolt of excitement and want to the apex of my thighs.

“Anyone could walk up.” I whimper at the thought. His answering chuckle is dark and seductive. I suck in a sharp inhale at his soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin of my neck. “You like that, don't you? Didn't expect that.”

I give his hair a sharp tug in response to his tentative nip just below my ear.

“Trey,” I beg.

He rips the hat off my head, fingers delving into my hair and gripping a section at the base. I gasp at the dominance in his hold. Soft lips brush against my own, teasing. I can't move; desperation ratchets higher and higher.

“This never happened,” he growls, then seals his lips over mine. I groan into his mouth, pushing in a plea for more. His hand dips beneath my loose sweatshirt, his callused palm scraping along my stomach.

Pushing off the rock, I arch into his touch. Higher and higher his hand slides. Deft fingers dip inside my bra, yanking the cup low so my breast spills over.

My thoughts whirl. Normally this is when I'm ready for the guy to stick it in and get the show on the road. But now, here with Trey… I'm actually longing for each touch. Every kiss and swipe of his tongue along mine makes the throb between my thighs pulse with more need.

His lips curl against mine in a smile as he pinches my pebbled nipple between his thick fingers. I cry into his mouth as pain and pleasure mix. Panting, I tip my head back and shove my breast into his hand, begging for more.

Fuck, that was hot.

Another tight pinch, this time with a quick twist. I cry out, only for it to be smothered by his palm sealing to my lips. “Good girl,” he praises.

I whimper into his palm at the loss of the hand from my breast. Not wasting any time, he dips a hand below the waistband of my sweatpants, sliding over the front of my satin thong.

“Yes,” I mumble. The hand at my mouth disappears, replaced by his demanding mouth once again. I nip at his lower lip like I've fantasized.

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