Page 64 of The Taskmaster
“Taskmaster.” She ran her finger over the word, and then glanced back up at me. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I don’t play games; I win them.”
“Well, that tracks. You certainly won tonight.”
“Like I said, I always do.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
ABIGAIL
Ihad lost all sense of myself, but I didn’t care. I enjoyed letting go just now. Everything in my life was spiralling. Nothing felt real anymore, but this, what we’d just done, was so real. Raw and untamed. I loved it. I loved feeling wild.
The game he’d made me play, making me study his body, had been the most erotic thing I’d ever done in my life. It didn’t matter that when I eventually found his nickname tattoo, which was on his wrist despite him urging me to go lower, I was still left puzzled. Because I’d discovered something much more exciting. The tattoos were hot. So sexy. But the piercings? Oh. My. God. They sent me spiralling into another level of crazy freak. When I saw them, I wanted to feel those piercings so badly. When he urged me to touch him, I felt like the floodgates had opened.
But touching wasn’t enough, I wanted to taste.
And boy did he taste good.
Who was this girl that turned into a freak for a man who always seemed to appear out of nowhere and steal the breath from my lungs?
I couldn’t deny though, I liked how bold and sassy she could be. The old Abi had endured enough, fitting into the roles shehad to play, the boxes she needed to fit to be the person everyone expected her to be.
But he didn’t expect anything.
With him, I could let go. So what if he was an enigma? A bad boy full of mystery with stormy eyes and a darkness that covered him like a shroud he wore with pride. Sometimes, it was healthy to try new things. To push yourself outside of your comfort zone. Don’t get me wrong, I still had my guard up. Someone was out to get me. But it wasn’t him. He’d chased that demon away. Literally.
“Not a lot surprises me these days,” he said with a wicked smirk. “But you, Abigail Walters, surprise me every time I see you.”
“There isn’t a lot that surprises me, but I’m slowly learning that with you, anything is possible.”
He liked that answer. I could tell by the way his eyes sparkled, like he had a whole world of surprises and tricks to show me, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
We stood in the darkness of my living room, the gentle hum from the night outside and the panting of our breaths were the only thing I could hear. The intensity of his eyes boring into mine as he stood in front of me in all his tattooed glory was all I could see. But in my mind, I was torn. I had just taken a leap of faith. I’d done something I didn’t usually do and let myself go. But was this all a game to him?
“Is that what’s happening here?” I asked, holding his gaze to try and read anything I could in his eyes as I held his wrist in my hand. “Is this just a game you need to win? Are you playing games with me, Isaiah?”
I couldn’t read him, but as I moved my hand, he reached out to stop me.
“I like to win; I won’t lie about that. But this isn’t a game. It’s so much more.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s finding out that the chase might be a thrill, a temporary high, but catching the prize and keeping it, that’s the ultimate goal.”
“You see me as a prize?” I questioned, wondering if the burn was worth it, because I didn’t want to crash if I wasn’t going to survive.
“I see what we’re doing right now as a prize. Don’t you?” he replied.
His nostrils flared as he leaned forward, not waiting for my response but forcefully putting his hand at the back of my neck to pull me to him.
With his lips a whispered breath from mine, he said, “And I think it’s time you had a taste of what it’s like to win.”
He crashed his mouth to mine, kissing me in such a dominating and powerful way, I wanted to submit to him. No one had ever come into my life and taken charge like he had. It was new, exciting, and I wanted to ride this feeling. Find out where this strange relationship might take me.
His lips moved against mine, claiming me as he plunged his tongue into my mouth, tasting and moaning as we held each other, our hands desperate to explore. His hands held me captive, pulling me to him as he squeezed my ass through my sweats. And I clung to his shoulders, then moved to his back, my fingers digging into his skin in desperation.
He pinned me to the wall, grinding his hips against me, his hardness rubbing against my clothes. Wetness pooled between my thighs, and I felt the familiar throb and ache. My body wanted him, needed him, and so did I.
