Page 68 of An Uphill Battle

Quickly I inspect my living room and kitchen—both are spotless. Guess having a clean freak for a stepmom helps. The bell rings again, and I dash over to open thedoor.

“Good Lord! Took you long enough!” Azalea says, all snark and no charm. Then again, who gives a fuck about charm when your walking wet dream is standing in front of you in a tight button-down shirt and a jean skirt that leaves very little to theimagination.

“Hello to you too, Little Bit.” I bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling. No sense in poking thebear.

“You gonna stand around, or you gonna help? There’s a few bags in mycar.”

“Okay…” I know she’s not so subtly hinting for me to grab them…Guess I like poking the bear afterall.

“Ugh!” She stomps her foot. “Never mind, I’ll get them myself.” She turns to make her way back to her small-ass convertible, but I stop her with a hand to hershoulder.

“Chill drama queen, I’m just messin’ with you. I’ll get ‘em. Have aseat.”

I run out to her little death-trap of a car and scoop up the four bags from her passenger seat. For anyone else, this much shit toplana shower would be overkill, but for Little Bit, this is pretty dialeddown.

Doesn’t mean I’ll tell her though. “Jesus, Bit, you bring everything but the kitchen sink?” She doesn’t reply with words, instead she treats me to one of her signature scowls and an eyeroll. Joining her on the couch, I tell her, “You keep lookin’ at me like that and your face might get stuck thatway.”

She rolls her eyesagain. “Oh, my God, you’re soimmature!”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep acting like you don’t likeit.”

“I don’t,” she scoffs as she flips her hair off hershoulder.

Smiling, I drag my heated gaze down the length of her seated form, appreciating the way her skirt is hiked up, giving me just enough of a peek of her creamythighs.

My silence infuriates her, and I love it—because God knows, our banter is the best foreplay. Even if we’re not having sex. “I really don’t, youknow?”

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Little Bit. But let’s cut the bullshit and be real for a minute, yeah? We both know you like it when we argue. Wanna know what you’d like even better? My hands onyou—”

Azalea slaps her hand over my mouth. “Drake Ulysses Collins, so help you God if you finish thatsentence!”

I softly run the tip of my tongue over the palm of her hand, but she holds tight, trying to act like it’s not getting to her. But I know better. Her shallow breaths and clenched thighs tell me all I need toknow.

Softly, I place a kiss to her hand and as she pulls it away from my mouth, I capture her wrist and tug her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. “Wha–what’re youdoing?”

“Something that’s been a long time comin’,” I tell her before sealing my lips to hers. Our kiss is a constant power play, both of us desperate for control. Our tongues dance and duel and before I know it, Azalea’s grinding down onto me and I’m meeting her thrust forthrust.

As much as it fucking kills me, I bring my hands to her hips and slow her movements. “Slow down Bit. There ain’t norush.”

Her cheeks blossom a pretty pink and for a second I worry she’s gonna let her embarrassment win and get mouthy again. So, I’m more than shocked when instead she drops one more small kiss to my lips before moving off me. “You’re right D. Let’s … work on the showerstuff.”

My mind immediately darts to Azalea’s naked body standing in my shower with water dripping and clinging to her every delicious curve that I don’t even notice she’s no longer seated next to me. The fantasy ends as quickly as it started when she drops a binder that has to be three inches wide onto the table in front of us. It’s then I notice the largest of the bags she brought with her is now sitting on the floor between ourfeet.

From it, she begins pulling out even more shit—another notebook, a planner, a highlighter, and God knows what else.What the fuck have I gotten myselfinto?

“First,” she says flipping open her planner, “We need to pick a date. I’m thinkingthisweekend in June.” I drag my eyes down her slim arm, to the date her perfectly polished pink nail is pointing at. You wouldn’t think pink nails would be a turn on, butdamn.She’s so feminine, and I can’t help but picture those pretty pink nails clawing their way down myback.

“Sounds good,” I tell her as I pull my phone from my pocket to mark thedate.

“Awesome. Now, I have the theme, so no worries there.” She jots a few lines in hernotebook.

“What else you need from me,Bit?”

“Well, I need to know what kinda games you guys’ll be willing toplay.”

“Games?” I scratch my head. “Whatgames?”

She laughs like I’ve just delivered the punchline of a lifetime, and the sound fucking warms me from the inside out. “Games, Drake. Like guessing how big her belly is by wrapping toilet paper around it, or blind baby food tastings. Things likethat.”

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