Grinning, Fin eased off for a beat. ‘Drop the ball and I will.’ The fact she was still holding it was impressive.
‘That’s not fair,’ she grumbled, a determined light blazing from her eyes. ‘You’re the only person besides my mother who knows how ticklish I am and you’re using it against me.’
‘Cry me a river,’ he said and set his fingers to work again.
‘No,’ she yelled in protest, laughing hysterically as he applied unrelenting pressure to her ribs. She squirmed and bucked to get away from his tickling fingers, but still refused to release the ball.
Fin slid a knee between her legs to keep her still while he administered her punishment and he laughed as she flailed around like a bug pinned to a cushioned display in a museum. ‘Stop, Fin,’ she begged. ‘Stop.’
‘You know the word,’ he grinned.
‘Fuck you,’ she said, her laughter loud in the approaching night as she let go of the ball with one hand and used it to try to pry his fingers from her ribs.
‘Nah, that’s not it,’ he teased as he resisted the best efforts of her interfering hand.
For someone who was supposed to be getting this over with, Fin was enjoying himself a little too much. It had always been fun tickling her, but the way she moved and writhed beneath him, all soft and lush, calling out his name.Begging.That brought a whole new element to the exercise that young Fin had never contemplated.
And, man, how inappropriate would it be to get a hard-on right now?
The thought was out before he could check it and that was that. He might as well have summonsed the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man for how quickly his dick did its thing.
Well… crap.
Could she feel it against her hip as she squirmed and caused a delicious kind of friction that only enlarged the problem? Was it wrong to like the rub of her body, to want to lean into it, to rub back?
Of course it was, idiot. This wasSweeney.
Much to his relief, she finally conceded. ‘Okay, okay,’ she called, gasping for breath between laughs. ‘Stop. You win. I can’t… give you the ball… when you’re tickling me.’
Thankfuck.
Still, that wasn’t the way they ended the tickle game and she not only knew it but it was on her because she’d started the wholecatch me if you canthing and now he had an erection he didn’t want and a heat in his blood that had nothing to do with their chase and everything to do with their tussle.
‘Nuh uh,’ he said, dialling it back a notch, giving her space to breathe. ‘What’s the proper word?’
‘Mercy,’ she yelped, quickly. ‘For fuck’s sake, mercy.’
Grinning, Fin’s fingers stilled, although his hand remained. ‘Attagirl,’ he said.
She eyeballed him as she delivered a light punch to his shoulder, her other hand somehow still extended above her head, grasping the ball. ‘That was a terrible thing to do, Finley Murphy,’ she complained, trying to catch her breath from all the laughter. ‘What are you, like, seven?’
Fin smiled. ‘I’m not but you are.’
‘Am not.’
‘Are too.’
‘Am not.’
She opened her mouth to continue their age-old banter but shut it again, her eyes glittering with humour. Then they both burst out laughing. After a day of such heavy emotion, these last few minutes with his childhood bestie had been deeply healing.
As much as he wanted to bury his face in her neck and just laugh it out together, Fin was more than aware his dick was still in a state that was not fit for company. Not her company, anyway, so he rolled off her, his back meeting cool, damp sand, his gaze on the sky.
Their laughter slowly petered out until they were both just lying side by side, staring at the first stars popping overhead in the dwindling light.
‘God,’ she said, the hand not still in contact with the ball sliding to her chest, her voice husky in the quiet of early evening. ‘My heart is racing.’
‘Mine too,’ he admitted. Busily shunting blood straight to his dick.
