Page 109 of Game On
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” I say, settling in beside her. “Call me anything else you’d like except for that.”
“Foxy?” she suggests brightly. “That’s what Gabi calls you sometimes.”
I scrub a hand along my temple. “Oh, fuck no.”
“So picky.” She shakes her head before turning her attention to the dance floor. Levi and Gabi were quick to hit it, leaving us to watch over their drinks. Now, they’re out there blatantly grinding to some Top 40 song. A spectacle if I’ve ever seen one.
Instead of remaining there, my attention quickly turns back to Ella. I’m trying to figure out how someone soinfuriatingly stubborn could also be so goddamn perfect. How when she laughs, I want to join in, and when she cries, I want to do everything in my power to make her smile again.
How she’s managed to weave her way into every part of my life, making it impossible to remember what it was like before I knew her.
She leans into me then, her thigh brushing against mine as we sip our drinks, watching our friends dance. I wrap an arm around her without thinking, pulling her closer. The music is loud, the bass vibrating through the seats, but there’s a comforting sort of rhythm to it. A pull that makes me eager to join in.
After a few upbeat songs, Gabi comes over, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll watch the drinks if you two want to dance a while,” she offers. “Levi’s gone to the bathroom.”
Ella and I exchange a glance. With a quick thanks, we slide out of the booth and head for the dance floor together. The beat shifts to something slower, more sensual, and we fall into sync as if we’ve been dancing together for years. I suppose that’s what constant training will do to you.
Our bodies move as one, pressed close, her hands looped around my neck while mine rest on her hips. It’s warmer out here on the floor. A thick wave of heat from all the mingling of bodies and the frenzied energy of the crowd. The kind that only builds as our hips move together. We’re both acutely aware of it, the rising tension simmering just beneath our skin.
Ella’s collarbone glistens and her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright, as she looks up at me. I lower my head, brushingmy lips against her ear. “You’re fucking irresistible, you know that?”
She gives me a wicked grin. “You think so?”
“What Ithinkis that I can’t seem to get you off my mind. How much I want you, how much I crave you.”
“Yeah?” She blows out a heated breath. “Tell me more.”
I wipe of bead of sweat from her brow. “Should we sit first?”
“Sure,” she murmurs. “I think I need a break, anyway.”
I chuckle. “Hot, isn’t it?
We weave back through the crowd, hands clasped tight. Gabi winks as we switch places and then she heads off to rejoin Levi on the dance floor. Ella settles into the booth, sipping her club soda, her gaze lingering on me. The tension is hard to ignore.
Without waiting for another snarky quip, I slide in beside her and rest a hand on her thigh beneath the table. I can’t help myself—being this close to her, feeling her warmth against me, it’s impossible not to want more. My fingers trace the seam of her jeans, a gentle pressure that has her leaning into me.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Taking that break you wanted,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Telling you more. Enjoying this empty booth with my girlfriend. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Fine,” I mutter, amused that she latched onto that singular word. “I’m touching mytemporary girlfriendwhile our friends are too busy dancing to notice. That better?”
She gives a short laugh, her fingers tapping the back of my hand. “Much,” she says, her voice pitched low, silky, and soft. Our eyes meet in the dark and there’s a spark in hers that makes my blood pump faster. “You sure they’re clueless?”
“Well,” I say as I slide my hand further up her thigh, popping open the button on her pants. “We could find out.”
She chokes back a laugh, covering it with a cough as her cheeks flush a deep crimson. She glances at the dance floor, but everyone is too engrossed in their own fun to notice anything amiss.
When she opens her legs, I take that as an invitation and slide her zipper down, too. There’s a sharp intake of breath from her as my hand slips under the waistband of her panties. I don’t look at her now; my gaze is fixed on the bodies moving in front of us, pretending to watch them dance. Her skin’s slick and smooth against my palm as I trace circles right above her clit.
Her breath hitches in her chest, a soft gasp that’s drowned out by the pounding bass. I can feel her tensing up under my touch, her thighs instinctively closing around my hand. She bites down on her lower lip, fighting back a moan as I finally press my thumb against her.
I look into her eyes, waiting for that final nod of consent, and then I slip my fingers inside of her. Two out the gate, pushing through the wet, warm barrier until I’m in to the knuckle. She shifts, eagerly riding me. Her hips flex, body shivering as I twist my fingers, sliding deeper into her still.
“Easy,” I whisper into her ear, feeling her body tenseup with pleasure. “We wouldn’t want anyone to see you, would we?”
