Page 74 of Hate Game

I pull out my cell phone, find the playlist, and press play. “Gloria” by Laura Branigan plays.

“You did not?” Rue covers her smile with her hand. I can’t take my eyes off the shine in hers. “This is the playlist from our trip to Dumas.”

We put together a mix of her favorites and mine.

Rue grabs my hands and tugs me onto my feet. “Come on, we gotta dance.”

We belt out the lyrics and swing our arms and hips. Rue jumps up and down on the tips of her sneakers, miming a microphone to her mouth as she sings along. She is drop-dead gorgeous in a pair of heather gray pajama bottoms and a pink long-sleeve top with the words “Bite Me” written across her chest.

At some point in the song, I stopped dancing. I am tracking Rue as she dances circles around me. I’m dizzy watching her. Laughing, she grabs my hands, and we go round and round. I grin wide. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced a carefree moment.

We collapse onto the lounge with huge grins on our faces. “Gloria” ends and “Too Many Nights” from Metro Boomin and Future comes on.

“More. More.” Rue laughs and pulls me back onto my feet.

She mimes putting on a pair of shades and shimmying her bottoms low on her hips, she lowers her butt and pretends she’s driving a car.

One hand is on an imaginary steering column, and the other taps to the tune. I laugh. She mimes lowering her shades and crooks her finger. This girl is fucking hot, and I can’t resist or deny the heat between us any longer.

I grab her by the waist, walk her backward, and cage her against the shed with my palms on either side of her head. Her breathing quickens. Her lips part. I lean in close. Her fingers drop to the button on my jeans. I slide my hand under her thick, fucking luscious hair. Cupping the back of her neck, I bring her mouth to mine.

“Say no, and I’ll stop.”

“I would never refuse you, Malice.”

Groaning, I rest my forehead on hers. Why did she have to go and say that line? It’s a line that turned me the fuck on two years ago and one that continues to get me hard for her. But it’s the same line that got us into trouble and got her pregnant when we made love without a condom. This time will be different.

I pull a wrapper from my back pocket. “I won’t have you going through another heartache.”

She stares at the wrapper. Tears well up in her eyes. The music fades to the background. Time stills. My gut clenches. My rod softens. Rue looks away from me. I blow out a breath.

“I ruined the mood, didn’t I?” I pocket the wrapper.

Rue wraps her arms around me. “You turn me on when you think about our safety.” She removes the condom from my pocket and tucks the wrapper inside her bra.

Rue presses her mouth on mine, and I am lost to her sweet mouth and skillful tongue. Her tongue tangles with mine. She is warm and wet. What I imagine she is down there. My cock hardens and twitches.

“Should we move this inside?” I caress the side of her face with my knuckles.

Rue shakes her head. “I want us to make love under the moon and the stars, like that first time for us.”

Like that first time for us.

Like thatlasttime for us.

Is that the reason I can’t get over Rue? Our first time was also our last when we should have had more time to make love and explore one another’s bodies? I shove that thought to the back of my mind. I’ll take Trace’s advice and live in the moment. I won’t think of the future with or without Rue by my side.

“Make love to me just like this, Malice. No bed. No truck bed. Just me and you, here.”

“On one condition,” I say.

Her eyebrows tug low. I remove my hoodie and help her put it on. “You’re not freezing your ass off on my watch.”

Rue takes my hands and slips them under her shirt. “I would never refuse you, Malice.”

She is on to my weakness.

I splay my large hands over her small waist. Her skin is warm, soft, and flawless. I coast my hands up her sides and cup her breasts. Rue’s chest rises and falls as I roll one nipple, then the other, between my fingers. I take it slow with Rue and worship her body with my fingers and my mouth, though my boner straining against the front of my jeans longs to take the heat between us from zero to seconds flat.

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