Page 52 of House Rules
“Currently I live at work, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but being your keeper is pretty much a twenty-four/seven kind of gig.”
Her clap back makes me smile. I wouldn’t tolerate the sass from anyone else but the Titans. For some reason, though, I kind of like that she has a little bite to her. I want her to be submissive in the bedroom. I want her pliant and begging me to fuck her. But I can get used to her being like this when we’re just hanging out.
“Before this, what did you do when you weren’t working at the resort?”
She takes a deep breath, and I move my fingers lower and start using my thumbs to press into her shoulder blades.
“I honestly can’t remember the last time I just had fun,” she admits. That bothers me.
“Then why don’t you have fun with me tonight?” I whisper in her ear as I kiss the side of her neck. She relaxes into me further, and I trail my hands down her torso until I have them wrapped around her waist, pulling her more firmly back against me and letting her feel how hard my cock is under her.
Maybe this is what she needs. Maybe she needs softness to beg. Or maybe it is just what I want at that moment.
I keep kissing her neck beneath her ear, and then I trail kisses down the long, elegant column of her neck to her shoulder, my hands moving up her flat stomach to her full breasts. It has been so long since I have actually felt tits that are still soft…natural.
She smells so good. Jasmine, vanilla, and the warm spices of her perfume mingle with something that is solely her and absolutely perfect.
“Con.” She gasps my name, and I want her to do it again. I want to hear my name on her lips, just like that, over and over. I kiss back up her neck and place my hand on her jaw, turning her head to bring her soft lips to mine.
“I missed you, Con,” she whispers, the words stilling me just before I steal the kiss.
I missed you, too. The words catch in my throat, blocked by a residual surge of hurt.
I could say it. I want to. But if I do, this stops being a game, and I’ve never played for anything real before.
She’d own me. And I don’t know if I’d fight it—or fucking beg for more.
We’re so close that I can feel her breath against my lips as she waits.
A loud bang comes from one of the other decks, followed by Maverick swearing.
“Fuck,” I say, leaning back in the chair, the moment broken.
“What was that?” Phoenix says, standing and obliterating the last little hint of our own private bubble.
“That would be Maverick trying to cook,” Storm says, coming over to our side of the deck. “It’s your turn to deal with that.”
Storm shrugs, the picture of innocence, as I give him a dirty look. It is my turn, but that asshole is doing this on purpose.
“You better hurry before he burns the entire yacht down. I don’t think we’re going to get another one.”
17
Phoenix
I am genuinely confusedby what’s happening as Storm takes my hand and leads me below deck.
“That’s going to keep Con busy for a while, and I would hate for you to be bored,” he explains with a cocky smirk that I haven’t seen before. Storm is never lacking in confidence. He isn’t shy, that I can tell, but he is usually quiet.. or pensive. He always seems like he is on guard, ready for some kind of assault. But here, he seems more…relaxed.
Lighter.
A salty breeze slides through the corridor as we descend. Somewhere above, I hear waves slapping the hull and the low thrum of the engine beneathour feet. The movement of the boat rocks just enough to make balance a game of its own.
“So, what do you do down here?”
“I have my own little game,” he says, holding up five flat-looking black blades with an intricate silver pattern in the metal.
“What kind of game?” I ask, trying to ignore the way my heart is thundering in my chest with a mix of adrenaline and fear.
