Page 120 of The Games We Play
The bull spun again, and she barely moved—solid, fierce, beautiful. Her chest puffed out, shoulders thrown back as she leaned forward and braced herself. The pathetic excuse for a shirt she wore clung to her, and when she arched, her breasts bounced in a way that nearly made my knees buckle.
I had to take a long, deep breath to keep from losing it completely.
If I glanced to the right, I knew what I’d see—those bastards drooling over her, eyes fixed where they didn’t belong. While Penny might’ve been showing off, I was seconds from losing every ounce of self-control I had.
She was mine.
And the minute she hit that mat, I was done watching.
With one final jolt, the bull threw her. Penny flew, landing flat on her back, her laughter cutting through the roar of the crowd. She lay there for just a moment, breathless, grinning like she’d won.
She had won.
I was already moving.
Two long strides and I was at her side, bending down and scooping her up, flinging her over my shoulder like I’d just claimed my prize. The crowd erupted, louder than ever, and she threw her fists into the air like a champion.
And hell, she was.
My champion.
My temptation.
My undoing.
I carried her through the bar, past the stunned stares, the laughter, the hoots. Dudley gave me a mock salute, and somewhere in the background, Rhodes slid behind the bar and Aspen headed toward the crowd, like they’d been ready for this moment all night.
Penny didn’t even try to fight me. She laughed—loud, full of joy—and clung to me like she knew exactly where this was headed.
Up the stairs.
To my apartment.
Tous.
With one hard kick, I shoved the door open and stepped inside.
Then I slammed it shut behind us.
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The second the door slammed shut, I dropped Penny to her feet. She landed with a soft thud, barely catching her balance before her hands were in my hair and her mouth crashed into mine.
No words. No hesitation.
I devoured her like she was oxygen and I’d been suffocating. Our mouths met in a kiss that was starved and reckless, all tongue and teeth and desperation. It was the kind of kiss that tasted like everything we’d never said, like time lost and weeks wasted.
I gripped her waist, fingers digging in as if I could anchor her to me. One backward step and she dragged me with her, her palms cupping my jaw, keeping me close as she opened for me.
My tongue slid past her lips, finding hers like it belonged there because itdid. We moved together like a melody we’d never forgotten, like the rhythm of us had never skipped a beat.
There was no fear. No doubt.
Just need.
Heavy, soul-deep, bone-shaking need.
