Page 157 of Playing the Pucking Game
She flips over and gets to her knees, her hands defiantly on her hips. Her lace bralette is twisted from her sleep, showing even more than it was last night. Although it’s still not quite enough.
“What the hell?” she seethes, her chest heaving.
“We’re…uh…we’re going to your class,” I say, my eyes fighting to stay locked on hers.
“I’m not going,” she repeats.
“Yes. You are. We’re going together.”
Finally, I lose my fight, and my eyes drop to her tits.
Christ, she’s got good tits.
The perfect size. Not too big, not too small. Just right to slide my dick?—
“Storm,” she growls, quickly adjusting the fabric. “My eyes are up here.”
“I know. But your tits are down here, and they’re looking fine this morning.”
“Fuck’s sake,” she complains as she climbs from the bed, giving me a shot of her ass in the tiny silk shorts she’s wearing.
I bite down on my bottom lip and curl my fists as she stomps toward the bathroom.
The need to punish her for being a brat burns through me.
God, how I want to tie her to her bed and tease her until she’s begging for relief.
“Get dressed, Donnelly. Your class starts in twenty minutes.”
“I said, I’m not going,” she repeats.
“No,weare. You have ten minutes. Your coffee will be ready,” I state before forcing myself to walk out of her room to allow her to get ready.
“And what if I’m not ready?”
“Then I’ll throw you over my shoulder dressed exactly as you are and enjoy every second of watching you work out.”
“Oh my god,”I pant, my legs trembling as our instructor brings the class to an end.
I’m sweating, my heart is racing, and my muscles are quivering.
That shit was hard.
I cringe, knowing exactly what Parker is going to say when we get out of here. I’m already regretting saying anything about how easy Pilates is; she really doesn’t need to rub it in.
Risking a glance over, I balk when I find she’s barely broken a sweat.
She looks…fuck, she looks really fucking hot.
Her leggings showcase her firm ass and muscular thighs. The sliver of skin between the waistband of her pants and the bottom of her sports bra is the ultimate tease. So is her cleavage. That top she’s wearing is a thing of wonders. What I wouldn’t give to lick?—
“Everything okay?” she taunts, breaking through my filthy thoughts.
Her eyes crinkle with amusement, her lips twitching.
I sigh, unable to deny the truth.
“It was harder than I was expecting.”
