Her eyes snap to mine when I snatch the sheet from her hands, bundled it into a messy ball, then toss it into the middle of the bed. When I drag my finger across her collarbone, her breaths shudder as erratically as her thighs. She’s not scared. She turned on from me saying, “I examined every inch of your body last night. There wasn’t a single section I didn’t like, so don’t ever hide it from me,Ahren. Your body when it’s gripped by ecstasy is as telling as your eyes. It shows the confidence you fail to exude.”
I slant my head to hide my smile when she briefly nods in agreement before slipping her hand into mine to guide me to the kitchen. I’m not laughing at her. It’s from realizing she’s as clever as the devil, just ten times more pretty.
* * *
My plan for us to stay naked for the next thirty-six hours flew out the window when we settled on bacon and egg muffins for brunch yesterday. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, but I’d rather my cock be scolded by the heat of Justine’s cunt than blobs of fat sizzling out of a frypan.
Although annoyed we had to place on some pants, my frustration didn’t linger for long. The past day and a half has flown by in an instant, but I feel like I’ve created enough memories to get me through two lifetimes.
Even now, while playing boardgames like I’m fucking twelve, there’s a calmness in the air. It could be the quiet before the storm, but it feels more significant than that. Victory is in my grasp, I’m just lost as to if it is a personal victory or a monarchy one.
Perhaps it is a bit of both?
My thoughts shift back to the present when Justine places down a five letter word on the overloaded Scrabble board positioned between us. She looks pleased, like she too is set for a mammoth victory.
I’m not a boardgame-playing, word-loving geek, but I had no hesitation when Justine suggested we play Scrabble. When a game has the word “strip” attached to it, and Justine is playing, you can be assured I’ll there with bells on.
It was also a good chance to show Justine my cock isn’t my only big muscle. I also have a brain—although I’m hoping she won’t push that fact when I place down my final four tiles onto the Scrabble board.
It’s the fight of my life to hide my smile when Justine mutters, “That’s not how you spell fuck. F. U. C. K. Not F. V. C. K.”
“That’s not a V. It's a U.”
When her eyes narrow even further, I can’t hold back my laughter. She either thinks I have no clue how to spell a word I say regularly, or she’s so desperate to win, nothing will stand in her way.
I hope it is the latter, because we’re about to face the battle of the century, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
My laughter floods Justine cheeks with a pink hue, but she’s unwilling to give in since this is a tiebreaker game. “No, it isn’t a U. It’s a V.” She points to the 4 in the top corner of the tile before locking her eyes with mine. “That’s why it’s worth more points.”
She’s right, but I’m a stubborn bastard who is as desperate to win this game as my cock is to be freed from my jeans. “You lost,Ahren. It’s time to pay your debt. Lose the shirt.”
Justine yanks back, her mouth falling open. “No way. You cheated. Cheaters don’t prosper.”
I know for a fact she’s wrong, but when she folds her arms under her chest, hoisting her fantastic tits high into the shirt I’m endeavoring to remove, I’m not up for an argument.
“Lose the shirt,Ahren. Or I’ll remove it myself.” I won’t hurt her, but she sure as fuck isn’t leaving this living room with her shirt on.
The survivor I’ve seen in her eyes since day one shines when she murmurs, “I’d like to see you try.”
When I cock my brow, shocked at her gall, she hightails it to her bedroom. If she’s hoping her mad dash will save her from me like it did my first night here, she’s shit out of luck. I’m on her heels in a matter of seconds, and even quicker than that, I’m endeavoring to yank her shirt over her head.
Playfulness overtakes my naturally ingrained arrogance when Justine’s giggled squeals reach my ears. I’ve never fooled around like we have today—not even when I was a kid. I recorded my first kill when I was eight, but I was groomed to be a killer years before that, so I didn’t have a childhood. I was born to be a soldier and was recruited to bootcamp the day I took my first step.
When our scuffle has us careening toward the floor, I outstretch my arm to catch Justine before she hits the deck with a bang. She laughs at my desperateness to save her while also striving to strip her bare, but it doesn’t stop her from rolling over and scampering across the floor on her hand and knees.
Not even thinking, I hook my legs around her waist, pin her to the ground, then tug her shirt over her head by its collar. I’m exhausted, and my stomach is cramping from holding back my laughter, but I play it cool. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
My words have barely left my mouth when Justine cuts them off with her tongue. After swallowing down my appreciative growl of her new-found confidence, she duels her tongue with mine. She doesn’t hold anything back when she kisses me. She gives it her all.
Kissing has never really interested me. More times than not, the personal side of a kiss creates more mess than having a revolving door of women.
I don’t feel the same way about Justine’s kisses. The strokes of her tongue, and the sexy-ass moans she releases when we kiss make me feel the most powerful I’ve ever felt. Then, when those facts are added to the awareness that every kiss we share makes her dripping wet, you’ve got one lethal combination.
This woman is dangerous in a way I can’t explain, but will give anything not to lose.
My cock throbs against my zipper when I pull back from Justine’s embrace. We almost depleted our stash of condoms the past thirty six hours, yet, she still wants more—and so do I.
“I never understood what Rico meant when he said his wife was his reward for years of misery until you walked into my life. You’re my little slice of heaven in a hot and temperamental place.”
