Page 30 of Rogue
“Fine,” she says in a tight voice. “Let’s move on to our next duo.”
I catch Hayden’s stern frown. Guess he’ll be thinking twice about inviting her back. “Her,” she bites out, addressing—you guessed it—me. “Any volunteers?”
Ball-Busted stands.
Terrific.
“Sit,” Jaxson tells him.
Sabrina’s eyes widen like they’re going to pop out of her head.
Jaxson shrugs. “Let’s see what she’s got,” he tells her.
For a second I think she’s going to bust a gasket but manages to compose herself. It wouldn’t bode well for the psychologist to flip out, though if there’s one person in the room who excels at pressing people’s buttons . . .
Everyone—Ball-Busted, Sabrina, me—glares at him. The room practically sizzles with furious energy.
“Do your best. Intoxicatehim, sweetheart,” Sabrina says, her tone laced with insincerity.
I wince. Evidently, words even reached her ears about my tampering with the water bottles. Way to rile up the fellas’ vindictive sides. God, how I’d love the chance at knocking her down a peg or two.
Jaxson wiggles a come-hither finger at me.
I roll to my feet and approach him, giving my best overconfident, in-the-know vibe, when in actuality I don’t want to be anywhere near the man-whore. Especially not in a game of manipulation—when he clearly has the upper hand.
Sabrina leans in and hisses in my ear, “Get him to wantyou.” Jesus. Vindictive much?
She steps away, heading toward the vacant seat next to Hayden. Lucky man.
Let’s see what she’s got?How am I going to get Jaxson to kiss me when he doesn’t want to be kissed?
“‘Never mind the bollocks,’” he reads my T-shirt.
“Better mind yours,” I say.
Jaxson stares at me for a second. “There’s no cause to be jealous.”
I bite my lip in indecision. Grabbing his face like Francis had done and surprising him flashes through my mind.
Too easy. Too obvious. It’s what they all expect, right? No way am I going for easy peasy. I might need a few throat lozenges after this, but if I can get him to bend to my will, want me bad enough he’ll kiss me, it’ll win this ridiculous exercise. And if he doesn’t return my kiss . . . at least I’ll know the past two weeks has been nothing but fun and games to him.
Balls to the wall, girlfriend.
Shifting forward, I wind an arm around his shoulder and fan my fingers through his hair. His eyes flash but he doesn’t resist. He leans down, narrowing the distance between us. I lift myself up onto my toes and tug his head forward. I brush my lips against his, testing the waters.
Sabrina screeches as I move in for the kill. Pressing my lips against his, I lick and thrust, hoping, just hoping he gargled with an antiseptic like Listerine. Or even better, that he lied.
I feel his lips lift against mine. Then he parts them and in a sudden, breath-stealing moment, he’s kissing the bejesus out of me. His tongue entwines with mine, probing, searching, arousing me to the point I’m sure both my panties and my running shorts are drenched. I’m pulled flush up against him, my head cradled in the crook of his arm as his tongue plunges deep inside me. French-kissing—man-whore style.
And I love every lick, every plunge, every arousing minute of it.
“Enough,” I hear Hayden say. But either Jaxson intentionally ignores him or the roar of my pounding pulse causes him momentary deafness because he continues his assault. And hey, who am I to resist. Bollocks to the rules, it is.
I lean in and enjoy every blessed inch of him. Pent-up energy that’s been slowly building inside of me releases in one small exhalation after another as I pant against his mouth. Sensation takes over. Me feeling him against me, his tongue inside of me, my happy place zinging to life as my girls sing a blissful tune as he pulls me in tighter against him. My fantasies about kissing him dull in comparison to the blissful reality of him.
“Come on, stud. Show us how it’s done,” one of them shouts, ruining the moment.
God, I’ve lost my bleeding mind.I pull away.
