Page 74 of Triple Power Play 3
I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her to me. She raises her knee onto my thigh, as if about to sit on my lap, but stops.
“Tell me, angel, what did Ethan say?”
“That I have to get up at five a.m. and attend practice with him,” she grumbles.
“And let me guess: you’d like me to save you from your punishment?”
She ignores my question, her fingers playing with mine. “Oh! We could visit the Ripped Bodice bookstore in West Hollywood.”
“You want me to take you to the bookstore?”
“No… Well, yes, but only if youwant to. We could do something else if you prefer.”
“Pizza and smutty books sound perfect.”
“You don’t have to. We can do anything you want.”
“AnythingI want?” I tug her hand until she falls into my lap.
Her ass lands on my thighs, her hands on my chest, and that white-hot sensation races through my veins. My cock thickens; obviously, I didn’t think this through.
A soft gasp slips from her lips, and her pupils dilate.
“You’re terrible at this,” I say, a little too breathless.
She releases a shaky sigh. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
“I must admit, it was cute—pretty painful to watch but cute.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m woozy. You need to take care of me.”
I laugh so hard, tears prickle the corners of my eyes. “You should’ve tried that first.”
She punches me in the side. “I hate you.”
My arms come around her. “No, you don’t. From all that babbling, I think you might like me.”
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.”
This dizzying, weightless feeling in my rib cage is irrational. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Silence hangs between us. I could sit here for days without moving or speaking, just holding her.
Except for one swelling problem.
Her fingers glide into my hair, nails scratching my scalp, not at all fucking helping. Soon enough, I’ll have to imagine corpses to stop from dry-humping her.
She wiggles on my lap and smiles against my throat.
“Aurora.” I tug her ponytail. “No teasing.”
She snickers. “You deserve some torture for making me sweat through that speech.”
“Is there even a shooting range in LA?”
“I have no idea,” she breathes. “I was having a seizure.”
God, I love her.
