Page 12 of Stick Games
Fuck me.
5
Emilia
Okay, so that was fun. And arousing…
I knew the man’s hands would feel good on my body, but I had no idea that every caress would send electrical currents through my veins. And having him read that section of the book. What the hell was I thinking? I thought it would torture him. I guess I didn’t consider what it would do to my libido.
I sit up, and hide a grin as he shifts uncomfortably. I glance out at the ocean as my insides continue to heat up. “Let’s take a swim.”
He groans, and stands, and I suck in a breath when I take in the long length of his erection pressing against his shorts. He doesn’t even bother to hide it from me. My gaze darts to his and he raises a brow.
“Yeah,” is all he says.
He pulls me up and sucks in a fast breath as my body meshes with his, and his hand slides down my back, holding me against his arousal. Everything about this man is big and hard, but I actually had no idea just how big and hard until this very second.
I wiggle against him, not sure I want to draw this out anymore. “Wet,” I whisper, teasing him.
He swallows, hard. “What?”
“Want to get wet?”
He sucks in another breath, and glances around, like he’s checking to see if anyone’s watching. “Yeah.”
I walk around him, press my chest to his back, and his muscles flex. “I think I’d like a piggyback ride.”
“You don’t want to get on my shoulders?”
“Maybe later.”
He reaches back and grips my thighs, and I jump onto his back and slide my hands around his body, linking them over his chest. “Not too heavy, am I?”
He grunts out an answer, comparing my weight to his hockey stick, and walks to the water. He goes straight in and when he’s up to past his waist, he sinks to his knees. I slide off his back and swim away.
“Do you know the game Marco Polo originated from a twelfth century explorer who didn’t know where he was going on his exploration journey in Asia?”
“You really do know things, huh?” he teases.
“Close your eyes,” I tell him.
He slicks his hair from his face, and my gaze follows his thick fingers, wanting them on my body again. “Why?”
I arch a brow. “Feels like we’re back at the rink, with you questioning me on everything.”
He grunts out the word, “Fine,” and, obeying my command, closes his eyes.
Without him seeing me, I take that moment to admire his hard body, and the way the droplets of water drip down his chest, only to disappear into his shorts that do nothing to hide his arousal. “You’re it, Gabe.”
With his eyes still closed he takes a step toward me, parting the water with his hard body. “You want me to catch you, Millie?”
I swim away, and he cocks his head, listening for the sound of my movements. “If you can,” I shoot back.
He turns toward the sound of my voice, and with the heat and energy arcing between us, I realize this game might be harder than I thought.
Harder, God yes.
“If I catch you, does that mean I win something?” His eyes might be closed, but his lips are quirking, telling me he’s up to something, and dammit, I’m interested in finding out what that is.
