Page 72 of Risky Game

“I’m not pissed.” I grabbed another set of tongs and started filling a bag with carrots. “I’m busy.”

And oh, the way his body was vibrating. He sighed, gave the area a quick glance, but the lingering guests were still outside talking with Jassen and Molly. For now, we were alone. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you earlier. I thought this was fun, but if I overstepped…”

Oh shit. That was where the wariness came from.

I could have pity on him. He said this was all new to him. Hell, maybe he wasn’t understanding what was happening as much as I wasn’t. I loved him taking control. It was the denial I was struggling with, even when I loved it. See? I was a mess.

“I liked it,” I said to him quietly. “I liked it a lot. It also… confuses me.”

“We can slow things down.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want that. I just…” Hell, what did I want? “I want to get even with you for all the torture you put me through this weekend.”

His brows rose high on his forehead and then his lips curled at the corner. “You can certainly try.”

The throb was back. I set down the tongs and braced my hands on the counter. It was a flip of a switch and he was making my pulse race and my nipples pebble.

“Yeah?”

“But I promise you one thing—” He glanced back at the door. Cole and his son Jasper were heading inside, so he turned back to me and lowered his head. “You can try to play this game. You can try to beat me, but if you come back to my house tonight, I’ll prove to you how much more fun this will all be for you when you’re willing to lose.”

“Daddy! I got our stuff!” Amelia’s shout was a bucket of ice and we both stepped back.

My hands shook as I grabbed a fresh bag for more veggies.

Logan’s warm breath skated across my jaw. “If you delay this too long tonight, it’ll be even worse for you tomorrow.”

My knees wobbled and I blew out a breath. He was infuriating! I was standing at the counter, far too long, while he went and scooped up the pool bag he’d brought for Amelia, took her hand, and shook Jassen’s goodbye.

Damn the man.

He’d made me weak and wet for him all over again, and he appeared entirely unshaken.

His outside lights were on, but the inside of his house was dark when I finally pulled into his driveway. I stayed at my brother’s long enough to help bathe Brittany while he took a shower with Luke. Molly insisted she was capable of cleaning, but halfway through, she started yawning and her face turned green, so I sent her upstairs to go to sleep.

After I finished the task, I kissed my niece and nephew, said goodbye to my brother, and I wasn’t quite certain if I’d stayed long enough to torture Logan a little bit, or if I was hoping he’d torture me.

By the time I pulled into his driveway, my hands were sweating on the steering wheel and my thighs were pressed together. I’d changed out of my swimsuit and rinsed off, then redressed in comfortable, loose, black lounge pants and a simple tank top.

Forgoing the bra and underwear was a bad decision. If there wasn’t a wet spot on my pants, showing my arousal, my hardened nipples would give me away as soon as I stepped through the door.

But if I stalled too long, Logan would worry. Or make me pay for it. The second one had me considering staying in my car until he knew I was stalling coming inside. He’d have seen me pull up. His phone gave him a notification of all incoming vehicles for security purposes, and I had no doubt he was keeping an eye on his phone for my return.

That had me curling my lips, taking a deep breath, and exiting my car. A few seconds later, my weekend bag in my hand, and I was stepping into Logan’s house where the only light was the soft, muted glow of the light above the stove.

Weird. But maybe he’d headed to bed early?

It was after nine, so it wasn’t too late.

I made sure to lock the door and dropped my bag by the staircase, kicking off my shoes into the mudroom. If Logan was sleeping, I wanted to be quiet. He’d had a hard day and I knew the upcoming week heading in to his first game was going to be stressful.

Stepping into the kitchen, I went straight to the wine fridge. I’d wanted a drink all day, especially after the bathroom incident, but hadn’t wanted to risk drinking too much to drive.

With a glass filled, I checked the screen on my phone. It lit up enough that when I turned toward the living room, a shadowed figure appeared in the chair.

“Jesus.” I gasped. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The shadow moved, and a lamp flicked on. Logan was sitting in a chair, back to his backyard, legs spread, wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off sweat shorts and a scowl.

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