Page 60 of Her Maine Reaction

“I always had them when I’d go to summer camp. It was the best part, if you ask me.”

Coming up next to me, he sits and sticks his marshmallows in the fire. My eyes take in his sculpted forearm, thinking about it next to my head as he braces himself over me–pushing in and out of me.

Losing track of time, I glance back over at my marshmallows. “Oh, shit!” They’re on fire–blazing really.

I quickly pull them out and blow on them, but it’s too late, they’re charred beyond recognition. “Eh, I like ‘em burnt.” I shrug, trying to play it off that I wasn’t distracted by his sexy arm next to me.

“Sure you do, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically. “Just grab new ones. I have a whole bag.”

Sighing, I ditch the black lumps and stab two fresh ones onto my stick to try again. I keep a watchful eye this time, pulling them out just as they catch fire, and blow the flames out quickly. Ah, cooked to perfection.

Grabbing two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate, I make my little sandwich, and bite into it right away. Moaning, I close my eyes as the chocolate melts on my tongue, and the sweet marshmallows ooze out–the perfect combination.

“Ashley,” he says low and sexy, and I open my eyes to find his have gone dark and heated again. “If you keep making noises like that, I’m going to have to put something else in your mouth for you to moan about.”

Coughing, I practically choke, sucking graham cracker crumbs down my throat. Swallowing a few times, I cough again, and then reach for my wine glass to down the rest of it.

“Ryan!” I scold when I can finally speak again. “You can’t say shit like that while I’m eating. I could have died.”

“Like I would have let you.”

Eyeing him with a devilish little smirk, I make sure he’s watching me as I take another bite of my s’more. Moaning again, I chew slowly, swallow, and then lick my lips to capture any crumbs stuck to them.

“You’re playing a game you won’t win, sweetheart.”

“Me?” I ask innocently with a hand to my chest. “I’m not playing a game.”

Flashing me a predatory smile, Ryan traces a circle around my exposed kneecap, and then runs his hand up my thigh–a trail of goosebumps following his path.

Reaching the bottom of my sweater, he slides under it, his blue eyes blazing into mine, just begging for me to challenge him.

But I don’t. I remain still–waiting.

Inching closer to the apex of my thighs, a steady throb beats in my core–begging for his touch, begging for him.

Rounding the top of my leg, Ryan grips my inner thigh, and my breath hitches.

With a smirk, he slides a single finger through my folds and his eyes harden when he feels how wet I already am for him. Now he knows the power he has over me with just the simplest of touches.

My heart is pounding so fast in my chest, and I bite my lip to hold back the moan threatening to escape.

Ryan takes his hand away and brings his finger to his lips, sucking it clean–groaning at the taste of me. “Just as sweet as I imagined.” His eyes penetrate mine, and the breath I didn’t know I was holding, rushes out of me.

So that’s the game he wants to play? Who can seduce who faster?

Fucking count me in.

My lips turn up at the edges and I look away shyly, playing the innocent act.

“Ryan,” I purr, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

He’s still licking his finger clean, and knowing that he’s tasting me on his tongue, I feel a surge of power come over me.

Sitting up on me knees, I place one hand on his bare shoulder and the other on his thigh.

Dropping his hand to mine, I watch his eyes darken–flitting from my eyes to my lips.

He wants to kiss me. He wants to taste my lips just as much as I know he wants to taste more of me than what was on his finger.

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