Page 101 of Game Point
‘You can’t not wriggle for a second?’
‘Apparently not.’ I turned around again to face him, one arm pulling my pillow closer. I could only just make him out in the darkness, his body hidden under the covers. He was so close, I could almost feel his breath.
‘I’m going downstairs,’ he summarized, but my hands grabbed for his.
‘No! I’ll behave.’
He huffed, settling back on the bed. I could feel every movement of his body, the dip in the mattress on his side, pulling me closer. ‘I honestly don’t know if I believe you.’
‘You’re learning.’
‘Do you always get the nighttime zoomies?’ he asked, any hint of tiredness fading from his voice.
‘What can I say?’ I rolled onto my back. ‘I get excited when I win.’
‘Here.’ His hands twisted me again, turning me onto my side as easily as if I was a rag doll.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, softening to his touch and allowing his arms to wrap around me, one under my neck, the other around my waist, and slowly he pulled me against his body.What was happening?
‘Putting you in hand jail.’ His hands slid up my palm, before interlocking his fingers with mine, restraining me. I lay rigid, my brain overloaded with the physical contact, trying to balance how much I liked him with how badly I’d been trying to avoid this. His entire body pushed against me, his hands soft in mine. It was impossible to deny how good this felt, how much I’d been craving this very thing. Since the night we’d slept together, since the hospital where he’d climbed onto my bed and held me, since the night, months before, when I met him in New York.
I was fucked. This was very different from trying to pretend he wasn’t in the bed with me. In fact, this was going to make it extremely difficult to sleep, every movement of his body affecting mine. My skin flushed, breathing turning laboured.
‘If you stay still for a few minutes, you’ll calm down andgo to sleep.’ His head tucked in behind mine, his breath hot on my neck. I had to fight a laugh, the idea of sleep thelastthing on my mind.
Instead, all I could think about was the slide of his naked skin against mine, how well he’d worked his fingers that now held mine, how he’d moaned and cursed as I took him in my mouth. How it had felt to be so incredibly full of him.
Like I said, I was fucked.
I hummed, trying to keep my heart rate under control, aware of every single movement of our bodies, every point of contact. I was so starved for him that even the simple brush of his body against mine turned me on. Now, I had his entire length pushed against me.
‘Am I speaking to Oliver or Coach Anderson at the moment?’
‘As your friend I’m telling you that your coach won’t be impressed if you don’t get a solid night’s sleep.’
‘It’s okay, I’ll blame it on my friend Oliver.’ I couldn’t help my smile. ‘Wait until coach finds out he fed me pizza too.’
‘Dylan,’ he rasped, an edge of sleep returning. I loved the way my name sounded coming from him. Even more when he moaned it.
‘Yes?’ I practically purred. Truly, I didn’t know where all this late-night energy had come from but there was no doubt it was being spurred on by the press of his body against mine.
‘Stop wriggling.’
‘What if I like to wriggle?’ I smirked as I moved my body again, rolling my hips around, and attempting tobreak free of his grasp on my hands, feeling his knee press up against me. Maybe if I moved around, he’d remove himself from me. It was the only way I could think to do it. I couldn’t tell him to go, I wouldn’t dare. He’d have to be the stronger one.
‘I haven’t exercised in days! I’m getting all the zoomies out.’
‘You’ve got to stop moving.’ This time, he spoke pained words through gritted teeth. I paused, settling against him, my chest heaving.
‘Why?’ I tried to turn around to face him, but he held me in place. ‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No,’ he said immediately, ‘just …’ Oliver let out a heavy sigh, his forehead pressing against my head, his breath still sending shivers down my back. ‘You’ve got to stop moving. It’s …’
My mind filled in a hundred possibilities, sure I was close in my mission to drive him back to his side of the bed. ‘Annoying? Painful? Irritating?’
‘It’s making me hard.’
My eyes grew wide as the realization dawned on me of exactly what I was feeling pressed against me.It was, in fact, not his knee.
