Page 42 of The Game

“That’s awesome.” I bend forward and grab a plastic fork. “I hope you aren’t offended by my use of utensils. I’m not a chopstick kind of girl.”

“Thank God.” He laughs and grabs his own fork. “I was afraid I’d make an ass out of myself and need to eat fried rice out of your hair later tonight.”

I wiggle my eyebrows and give him a saucy look. “I’m not opposed to you eating something else, but we can skip the rice.”

He tilts toward me and bites his bottom lip. “I fully intend to lick every inch of your pussy until you’re so spent you can’t move a muscle. And then, I’ll do it again.”

“Oh, hell.” I shudder and swallow. “You’re dirty. You make my entire body tingle, and when I move my legs, my lips slide against each other.”

“Shit,” he growls. “You’re pretty filthy yourself. Eat. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” I stab the fork into the noodle and beef mixture.

“Keep that ‘sir’ in mind. I brought some silk ties from my closet. Does your bed happen to have posts?” His eyes are dark and filled with intense heat, making every muscle in my body turn to a puddle of melted goo.

“Only two at the head.”

“Too bad. I guess it’s only the wrists, today.”

The fact I’m turned on by the thought of being restrained is a complete shock, but I’m vibrating in anticipation. “How quickly can you eat?” I lick my lips and watch his hands as they hold the red and white container. I want them all over me. Waiting is overrated.

“Screw eating.” He tosses the food and fork down on the coffee table. “Drop it.”

“Yes, sir.” I grin and place my utensil and container on the surface with a clank. Several noodles and a piece of beef plop over the top and land in a pile. So, not important. I can clean up later. I need those strong, sure hands caressing my body.

He stands, grabs my hand, and pulls me up. “Bedroom?”

I jerk my head to the left. “Down the hallway. Doorway at the end.”

“One second.” He lifts me into his arms and walks over to his bag. “Hold on.” I wrap my arms around his neck and clutch tightly to keep from sliding down. His muscles move and bulge in unison as he reaches down to grab the bag.

My heart races with each step closer to my bedroom. Am I ready for this? Do I truly trust him enough to let him tie me up and not be able to make him stop? Adrenaline shoots up my spine.

Thankfully, I left the door open. He passes through the threshold and kicks the door shut. “In case Ashley comes home, we don’t want to give her a heart attack.”

I snort. “She’d grab popcorn and watch. She’s the least bashful person I know.”

“Then, I’d better lock it. I’m not into an audience in the bedroom. I get enough on Sunday afternoons.”

“Is everything ready for tomorrow’s game?” I lay my head against his shoulder as he navigates to the bed.

“Yep, nothing to worry about. I’ll get up and head home at eight o’clock and be at the stadium by nine.”

“Good.” I nod. Fourteen hours. Plenty of time for sex, eating, and sleep.

When he lays me on the bed, my eyes widen. Here goes nothing. My heart thunders against my ribs, and my thighs quiver in anticipation. This is the kinkiest thing I’ve ever done.

That isn’t exactly hard to accomplish. Everything I’ve done with Gunner has been the dirtiest thing I’ve done.

It’s not like I score high on those social media quizzes with a list of naughty things – the ones where you get one point for each one you’ve done. Before Gunner, I would have probably scored a three.

He grabs the fabric of my leggings at the waist and drags them down my legs. When he reaches my feet, I kick them off.

“No panties, again?”

“Why? You’re only going to take them off.”

“Good point.” His eyes narrow, and the muscle in his jaw tics. “As long as you wear them at work. I don’t want any of the guys getting any ideas.”

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