“We’ve gotten off topic?”
“Yes, back to the powderpuff game.”
Hannah sighs. “What about it?”
“This is the bet. We take turns seducing each other until one of us calls stop. If I call stop, you don’t have to play in the game. You can sit in the bleachers cheering with everyone else. But if you call stop, you put on a cute shirt and play a fun game of flag football, and you’re guaranteed to win.”
“That’s because the referees cheat and let the seniors win.”
“Like I said, guaranteed.”
“What if your mom comes down to check on us? My mother informed me on my way here that your parents know we’re not supposed to be alone.”
“I thought of that. If she catches us, the person doing the seducing loses.”
“I don’t know. This has bad idea stamped all over it.”
“Calling it quits already? I ordered you a shirt with my football number. It’s upstairs. Do you want me to go get it?”
“I’m not a quitter.” Hannah lets out a little humph.
I lean in, running my nose along the slope of her neck, grazing my teeth against her collarbone. Her body softens, and she grips my shoulders. “Show me.”
“Fine, it’s a bet.”
“Yes. If it gets to be too much and you don’t want to play anymore, just say stop, and I will.” I don’t want to cross a boundary or have her feel like she can’t tell me she’s done because she’s afraid she’ll lose. I never want to hurt her like that.
“I’m up for the challenge, but if I don’t like something. I’ll tell you.”
“Good.”This is going to be fun. “Do you want to shake on it?”
“Let’s kiss on it.”
“Even better.”
Hannah dips her head down, kissing my Adam’s apple. She trails her lips up my neck, placing a kiss in the center of my chin. Finally, her lips cover mine. I let her lead, and she glides her tongue along my teeth. She darts her tongue into my mouth, but when I sweep my tongue out to meet hers, she pulls back. She has a smile on her lips. I untuck her shirt, rubbing my hands up and down her back. I slide my finger under the band of her bra, and with a little pinch, it comes undone. “Ford,” she hisses against my lips.
“Hmmm, what is it?” I glide my hands up her sides, pushing the fabric of her bra away from her body. I rub my thumbs back and forth under each of her breasts.
“Ford,” Hannah groans, scraping her teeth along the edge of my jaw.
I cup my hand over her breast, giving it a light squeeze and letting my thumb rub back and forth across her stiff peak.
“I’m done playing nice.” She breathes over my lips.
45. Bluebird Special
“Finally.” Ford chuckles.
I rake my hands down the front of his chest and lift his shirt, sliding my hands along his hard abs. I use my nails to scratch along the ridges and valleys. I cover his left nipple and do the same thing he’s doing to me. Run my thumb back and forth across it. It puckers into a hard nub beneath my fingers. Ford grunts, but he doesn’t say anything. I slide forward, grinding my hips against his, and we both bite our lips to keep silent. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest move. I skim my hands along the waistband of his jeans and, in a hurried motion, pop the button.
“Hannah.” Yes. There’s a warning in Ford’s voice. I’m getting somewhere. I rub my hands up his legs, dipping my thumbs between his thighs. Ford picks me up, throwing me back on the soft microfiber sofa. He kneels between my legs, shaking his head, and leans down, pushing my shirt up, and kissing my belly button.
“This is a great position for your mom to find us in,” I say, threading my fingers through his hair.
He looks up at me from his spot over my stomach. “Are you conceding?”
I glance at the stairs and then back to Ford and smirk. “Nope.”
