Game on, Jordan.
I shake my head, a sly grin on my face.
“Nope,” I say, guzzling down my water.
He chuckles as he slides closer to me, thinking he has me. I let him back me up against the truck, my cock twitching with delight as I gaze up at him.
I’m going to pay for this, but I can’t fucking wait.
I look him in the eyes just as I take my last gulp, but I don’t swallow it. I spit it right in his face.
“Tag, motherfucker. You’re it.”
I throw the bottle up in the air and duck out beneath his arms and run as fast as I can without hurting my knee, towards the woods at the back of the house.
“Fucking asshole!” he yells. “Get your ass back here!”
I hear him gaining on me, my heart thudding in my chest like a drum in a damn canyon.
My feet kick up leaves as I make a beeline for a group of trees close by when I realize his footsteps have stopped. I stop, too, turning around. I don’t see him. Where the fuck did he go? Did he give up so easily and head back to the truck? I pout at the thoughtas I try to catch my breath. Just as I take a step forward to go back, I feel his heaviness against me, those thick arms pushing me until my back hits a tree and all the air whooshes from my lungs.
He stares at me, eyes blazing, chest heaving as he takes a step forward. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, and my eyes roll back in my head. I’ve always been a sucker for a man who knows how to hold me down, who knows how to use his size against me.
Fuuuck.
He doesn’t say a word, just crushes me against the tree. Nothing has ever felt so good.
His breaths are heavy as he looks at me like he looks at a bowl of fucking ice cream: like he wants to devour me. He’s quiet as he studies me and my reaction. I’m not sure what’s going through his brain, but I know what’s going through mine.
I can’t help but grin.
“What’s the matter, Jordan?” My cock strains against my jeans, and I thrust against him as much as I can from this position. His hardness is not missed. I wiggle a little bit, just enough to feel his nails dig into my skin. “Cat got your tongue?” I add.
That seems to break his focus. He growls, shaking his head before his mouth is on mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth. His grip on my wrists tightens, his thumb pressing into the sensitive spot where my veinsare throbbing. He kisses me like a wild animal, biting and licking at me and holding me with his solid frame and tight grip like he doesn’t want me to move anymore than I want to be in this position. Beneath him.
I don’t have the use of my hands, but I don’t need them. Instead, I thrust myself against him, wrapping my bad leg around his hip both for relief and because I need him closer.
I push the toe of my Nikes flush against his ass and force him to shift position. Fuck, he feels good like this. Hot, hard, heavy, and perfect.
“Nope,” he growls as his lips accost my neck, making me groan. He loosens his grip on my wrist, and that’s his first oversight. I don’t go for the kill right away, leaving my hands above my head as his mouth travels down my neck, his fingers pulling at my shirt.
“Off,” he says through a half-growl, half groan. “Now.”
“Then take it off me,” I whisper.
The look he gives me has my brain glitching. I leave my hands above my head, my wrists crossed.
Birds fly through the trees, the sound of their wings fluttering. Light filters through the trees and I know we aren’t too far from the house. His house is far enough from others that we don’t have to worry about being seen or heard.
He looks at me with a mixture of heat and interest as I hold my chin high. His hands slide up beneath my shirt, and I’ve never seen him move so fast. He gets it up over my head with ease, and with his hands occupied, I bring mine down and push him, breaking free from where he holds me.
“Tag!” I shout.
I barely get two feet before his hands are on my jeans and he pulls me back, but I slip out of his reach for the briefest moment. He’s focused on me, and I use that to my advantage. I lunge forward when we’re close enough to a tree and slam him against it. He groans as his back thuds against it. I grab both his wrists with one hand, pinning them above his head. I smirk at him as I use my free hand to pop the button on his jeans, my gaze holding his.
“All you have to do is ask, you know,” I breathe huskily, as I slowly unzip his zipper. His pulse races against my palm where I hold his wrists, but he makes no motion to move or fight me.
Interesting.
