Page 2 of You Owe Me

“Duck!” she shouts, already hauling ass toward first base.

Reflex takes over, and I snatch the ball out of the air, a second from catching it with my forehead.

“Out!” Sebastian yells.

“Bullshit!” Ainsley snaps, sprinting full speed toward me. “He hasn’t tagged me yet!”

That gets a grin out of me.

“Come on, baby. Show me what you got.”

Her feet kick up dust as she barrels toward me like a sexy, unhinged wrecking ball.

I plant my feet wide, bracing for the inevitable. Ainsley doesn’t know how to pull punches. She never has. It’s maddening and so fucking hot I have to mentally coach myself not to get hard in the middle of a co-ed kickball game.

I expect contact.

What I don’t expect is to see Ainsley launch into some half-baked attempt at a slide that looks more like a drunk gazelle surfing on grass.

I don’t have time to prepare before she crashes into my legs with enough force that it knocks the air out of both of us. The ball goes flying from my hand. Gravity flips me, but I manage to grab Ainsley’s waist.

My back smacks dirt hard, and Ainsley lands square on my chest, all curves and heat and unfiltered energy. Her ponytail’s half undone, hair spilling around us like we’re in a bad rom-com, except I’m rock-hard, and she’s got that look. The one that says she knows exactly what she’s doing.

My pulse spikes. One-fifty, maybe 160 BPM. I’d check, but my hands are busy trying not to grip her hips like a fucking caveman.

“You did that on purpose,” I say, voice low and rough. No judgment. Just a raw fact. And the way her chest rises and falls against mine? She knows it.

“Prove it,” she dares, not moving a damn inch.

Her breath hits my jaw. Her body molds to mine like she’s testing limits. My grip tightens. I’m two seconds from flipping her over and making this a whole different kind of game.

“Hey!” Rowan shouts from the mound, oblivious. “Is she safe or out?”

My fingers flex against her waist, digging in just enough to make her eyes widen.

I don’t look away when I answer. “Definitely not safe.”

She hasn’t been safe since she knocked on my door, demanding a place to stay.

“I believe that stunt is punishable.”

Her lips tip at the corners. “How many IOUs do you demand, sir?”

See? I like it when she plays these bullshit games. “I think two are in order.”

Without hesitation, she reaches into my back pocket, where a deck of cards awaits, and slips out two. “I don’t feel a marker. It must have fallen when we hit the ground.”

I cock my head in warning. “That doesn’t bode well for you.”

She grins like the good girl she is.

“Open,” I demand, ignoring the people on the field. They know better than to look over here.

“Please,” she counters.

I narrow my eyes. “That’s not how we play this game.”

She wiggles her hips against my cock. “It is today.”

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