Page 10 of Wicked Games We Play
“So you admit you’re groping me, then?” I volleyed, amused by the banter. He answered by rolling his hips into me, his hardness pressing against my already throbbing center. A moan vibrated past my lips, matched by a groan from his.
“Next time you send me a tit pic, lose the shirt.”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time since someone couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge it.”
“I was working, sweetheart, and as tempting as it was to respond right when I received it, I didn’t really want to explain to Aaron why my dick was suddenly tenting my slacks while he drove us back to the station.”
“A likely excuse,” I countered. “Maybe I’ll find someone else to play the game with. What’s Aaron’s number? Maybe he’ll send a girl some dick pics since you won’t.”
Noah growled, pulling the top half of his body back to meet my eyes. “Any man who sends a dick pic to my girl will find his dick cut off and force fed to him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please, Noah. You’re not Dexter—don’t act like you’d go around chopping people up while working for the P.D. You’d never know if someone else sent me a dick pic, anyway.”
“You think I don’t know people who can easily hack into your phone?” He raised a brow in question, and I shot daggers at him through my glare.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I protested, anger brewing. Snatching my hand from his, I used it to push him away from me, although my push was weak and barely moved him.
“Test me,” he hissed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Test the theory. See if I’m bluffing. You’re mine, Flower, and the only dick you will get is mine. Fuck the pics, I’ll give you the real thing. Just say the word.”
Heat rose from my chest, settling on my cheeks, as I mustered up more strength to push him back with both hands. He wavered just enough for me to slide out from between him and the building. “I’m not yours, Noah. I’m no one’s.”
“We’ll see about that,” he murmured while I began walking back to the street’s corner. I pressed the button again and waited for the walk signal. Counting the seconds in my head, I mentally begged the light to turn faster so I could flee; something that I was getting pretty good at doing with Noah.
I didn’t need to look to know that he had taken off in the direction of his car; his lack of presence made the air around me feel empty, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Shaking my head, the chirp from the crosswalk signaled, so I stepped off onto the road.
Heat radiated off the blacktop, and a few beads of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I couldfeelNoah watching. The weight of his eyes on me felt heavy while he tracked the movements of me crossing the street. I picked up the pace and darted beyond the building in front of me, slipping out of his sight before reaching into my purse to feel for my keys. My phone vibrated from the inside of my bag right as my head connected with the headrest, and I groaned before reaching into my purse to grab it.
Noah’s name illuminated the screen, causing me to swipe as fast as I could to see the image that was attached. A close up of the hard bulge in his pants overtook my screen, and I cackled at the caption.
Noah: This is as close to a dick pic as you’ll get from me. I’d rather give you the real deal.
Rolling my eyes, I tossed my phone into the cupholder next to me, daydreaming about what my next move would be in this round of our wicked little game while I pulled onto the road.
CHAPTERFIVE
Inever should have sent him that picture, but now that I had, there was no going back. My mind replayed the way Noah’s body had felt pressed against mine no less than thirty times as I lay in bed tonight, and the throbbing between my legs only intensified the longer I tried to push it from my thoughts. Snaking my hand down my panties and circling my clit had been a natural reaction, but instead of just getting myself off and moving on with my night, I decided to rock the boat.
Before the logical side of my brain could catch up with the lustful side, Noah had received a photo of my hand down the front of my black satin panties. What he would do with that information was up to him, but I hoped he’d take the bait and play a little.
I bit down on my lip when the vibration of my cell phone alerted me to a new message. I dipped a finger into my warm center as I opened the message, holding my phone with my less dominant hand.
Noah: Thinking of me, Flower?
A slight pout hit my lips. That was… underwhelming. Just as I was about to toss my phone to the side and continue my rhythm, my phone vibrated again.
Noah: Stick two fingers inside and get them nice and wet. Then pull them out and rub your clit.
Even though he couldn’t see me, I wasted no time obeying his command and slid my middle and ring finger inside of me, pumping a few times, before pulling them out and focusing on my clit. It was difficult to text back with my non-dominant hand, so I opted for talk text.
“Then what?” I breathed heavily into my phone’s speaker, watching the words appear in the text box before clicking send. Continuing the slow torture on my clit, I stared at the screen and waited for his response.
If he left me hanging now, I may scream and never talk to him again.
Okay, maybe not.
Within seconds, a little bubble appeared to show me that he was messaging.
Noah: Drop your knees completely to the bed. Spread your legs wide and pretend I’m kneeling between them. Dip your fingers back inside and play with your wetness.
