Page 46 of Conflagration
I bend down, my lips on her ear. “I’m pretty sure I’ve given you plenty of proof that, even in my crippled state, I have no problem getting physical.”
She pushes me away playfully. “I have to admit it has been impressive. Now come on, hotshot. Let’s go.”
COMING TO an arcade while on crutches may not have been the best idea now that my knee is throbbing, but for the next two hours, Ari and I have a fucking blast as we kick ass playing as a team in games like Time Crisis, where her shot ends up being better than mine, and then Need For Speed, where I can barely contain my laughter as she struggles to maintain control of her vehicle.
When the game ends and shows that she finished in last place, I try to suppress a grin as I lift my eyebrows in her direction. “Good thing I didn’t see how well you handled the steering wheel before I volunteered you to be my live-in nurse,” I tease.
She flips me off, and I grip her wrist and yank her towards me. She slams into my chest with anoomph. Bending down, I press a quick kiss to her lips.
“I didn’t say I’d have changed my mind. I wouldn’t have.” I grin as her eyes soften. “I’d just have hired a driver.”
She pushes me back and storms away.
Laughing, I follow, and when I catch up, she’s staring at some dancing game. She looks back at me then down at my knee, frowning.
“You wanna play?” I ask, and she looks at me hesitantly.
“No, it’s okay. We can come back sometime when you’re off your crutches.” She starts to move on, but I hold out a crutch to stop her.
“Go play,” I tell her. “Plus, it’s not like it’s going to be a hardship watching you.”
A devilish look fills her eyes as she looks down at my groin area. “Then I’m not doing it right,” she teases, placing a kiss on my cheek and moving towards the game.
I find a seat to rest my knee, thankful for the reprieve.
The music starts, and as the machine lights up, Ariana tries to match it step for step. Unfortunately, the rhythm she has in the bedroom doesn’t translate to when she’s vertical. Not that it matters, because even if the machine isn’t appreciative of her moves, I sure as hell am. As she jumps, bounces, and wiggles, my eyes never leave her ass, not even when the machine signals the end of the song.
“Hey, stud!” I hear and look up to see her grinning at me. “Eyes up here.”
“Can I get an encore performance?” I ask.
Her shoulders shake with laughter as she tells me, “No way.”
Holding my hands to my heart, I give my best pout. “Please?”
“Oh fine,” she says, giving in and turning around to play again.
This time, she doesn’t seem to care about hitting the right steps, instead shimmying and shaking it just for my benefit. As she lifts her arms in the air and then slides them down her body, I notice that I’m not the only one appreciating her dance moves—or the body that’s performing them. A couple of guys have stopped to watch, and I’m instantly pissed off. One, because I’ve had to tear my attention away from her, and two, they’re looking at her in a way only one man is allowed to look at her—and that’s fucking me.
Just as I’m grabbing my crutches and standing up, she finishes and notices the other guys standing there. Her face flushes, and then she looks over at me, immediately reading my expression. She hops off the machine and runs towards me, jumping up in my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist. The crutches crash to the floor, but I barely register the sound as her lips come down on mine, her tongue forcefully entering my mouth, seeking my own. She finds it easily, and she kisses me with a fiery hunger.
My dick hardens as my hands grasp her ass and she rocks into me. A soft moan escapes her mouth, and then she slows her kisses, giving me one last peck before pulling away. Her arms are around my neck, and she looks down on me, a slow, wicked grin forming on her face.
“Who am I here with?” she whispers, confusing the hell out of me. She must see it in my expression. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, her thumb caressing my skin. “Branson, who am I here with? Who am I’m going home with? And whose bed will I be in tonight?”
“You’re here with me, you’re coming home with me, and I’m going to fuck you so hard when I get you in my bed tonight.”
She shakes her head. “Are you forgetting something? I got my clearance today. It’s my turn to fuck you,” she whispers, giving me a saucy wink.
Someone coughs behind us, and she leans down to place one more kiss on my lips before loosening her legs and sliding down my front.
“I’m here with you, Branson. While it’s kind of adorable to see your jealous side come out, it’s unnecessary.”
“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you,” I growl, and she laughs.
“They have eyes, Branson,” she says, giving me a playful shove. “It’s not like I haven’t noticed women checking you out either. Let them look. I almost feel sorry that they’ll never get the chance to see you naked.”
My eyes narrow. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t picturing it,” I tell her, but she just rolls her eyes at me.
