I leaned in close enough that my breath stirred her hair. “Keep talking like that and I’ll show you exactly how impolite I can be.”
“Promises, promises,” she tsked, but I felt her breath catch.
“You know what I think?” I traced my fingers along her jaw and down the column of her neck, watching her pupils dilate.
“Enlighten me.”
“I think you’ve been holding back this whole time. Playing it safe,” I nipped at her earlobe and felt her shiver. “But tonight, after dinner, seeing how my family adores you, how I adore you—it gave you permission.”
“Permission to what?” Her voice had gone breathy.
“To be yourself. The real you. The one who plays to win.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, sharpening. “And what makes you think I’m not always playing to win?”
“Because if you were,” I grinned, “you’d have had me pinned to this railing by now instead of letting me crowd you against it.”
The laugh that escaped her throat was pure delight. “You think I’m letting you do anything?”
Before I could respond, she’d twisted us around, pressing me back against the railing with surprising strength. Her hands flattened against my chest as she looked up at me with her own predatory smile that sent heat straight to my cock.
“Better?” she asked sweetly.
“Much,” I nodded, settling my hands on her hips. “Though I’m starting to think you’ve been sandbagging me this whole time.”
“Maybe I have,” she rose up on her toes, lips brushing against my ear. “Question is—what are you going to do about it?”
And just like that, the game was back on.
A growl escaped me as I crashed my mouth down on hers. She made a small sound of surprise that turned into something hungrier before kissing me back with the same intensity, hands fisting in my shirt like she was claiming territory as I moved her toward the blankets. When I guided us down, she pulled me with her—not following, demanding.
Alex pulled me over her until I was braced above, one knee between her thighs. “Much better view,” she decided.
Her hands went straight for the buttons of my shirt, and I pushed them away. “Impatient,” I observed, watching her eyes flash with frustration. “Thought you wanted to look at stars.” I caught her wandering hands again, pinning them above her head with one of mine—feeling her pulse race under my fingers.
Her breath hitched. “Changed my mind.”
“Have you now?”
“Maybe a game instead. Gin rummy, perhaps.”
“Gin rummy. Right,” I traced my fingers down her throat, feeling her pulse jump. “The thing about games, darlin’, is sometimes you don’t get to call the shots.”
Her eyes stayed defiant as she tested my grip with a smirk. “You think pinning my hands means you’re calling the shots?”
“Say I won,” my voice dropped lower, my knee pressing up against her center, “and maybe I’ll give you what we both know you want.”
“I want you,” her voice was steady despite her pinned position. “But that doesn’t mean you won anything.”
“No?” I smoothed my free hand up her leg, taking her skirt with it—soft skin giving way to the textured mesh of her underwear. “I think I win either way, darlin’.”
She stretched, shifting her legs apart as my fingers moved over the soaked patch of fabric covering her center—heat and wetness bleeding through. She was ready for me.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” I muttered, feeling myself grow harder. She let out a small whine, shifting her hips upward in an attempt to chase the friction. I moved my fingertips away from her heat, caressing her thigh once more as I moved my hand back to her knee—my mouth hitching to the side as she threw a glare in my direction.
“Finn,” she whimpered, voice urgent now, sending heat straight through me—every line of her body begging even as she tried to maintain some control. “Please, I want—”
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Alexandra,” I growled. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want. But you’re gonna be very, very quiet. Think you can handle that?”
