She looks like something straight out of one of my dreams. It’s going to be enjoyable watching her run away while I hunt her down in the laser tag room, because her ass in those jeans? The best I’ve ever seen. She fills them out to perfection, the round curve begging for my hands to be all over it.
Three dates. I know my own rule, but Christ almighty, she makes me want to break it, especially in that outfit. It isn’t just the straight-leg jeans over her cowboy boots, it’s the top. Some white vest kind of thing with silver buttons on the front, it pushes her perky breasts together, the deep V creating more cleavage than her T-shirt the other night. It sits higher on her waist, too, giving me a sneak peek at her stomach when it rides up.
I already know how my night is going to end later. In the shower with my cock in my hand.
“Not happening. I’m not going easy on you just because you’re beautiful,” I tell her, stepping closer to where she’s standing,adjusting the straps on the sensor vest. Her cheeks flush at my compliment, and I grin. “In fact, I think it might make me ride you harder.”
Her head snaps up, eyes widening as they lock with mine. Glancing around the room filled with other players—fifteen or so—her face brightens further. She tucks her hair behind her ear, strap on the vest forgotten.
“You wish that’s how this night was going to go.”
“Yes ma’am, I do,” I confirm, taking a moment to let my eyes rake down the length of her body.
I’m not sure how, but the way the laser tag vest fits her makes her look even sexier, even though it’s big on her small frame. Maybe it’s that she was willing to do this when I told her my idea. Excited, actually. I got to hear it firsthand when I told her over the phone a couple of nights ago.
We’ve kept our chats to a minimum. Texts comprised mostly of funny memes, silly jokes, and “hope you’re having a good day” kind of things. I explained to her that I didn’t want to get to know her over the phone, but still wanted to talk to her, so we’ve kept it light. For a lot of years, a lot of my life has been spent on social media, receiving DMs from girls—and guys—and while there’s a time and purpose for that stuff, it’s not how I want to learn about my girl.
Not that Bryn is my girl.
But one day she might be.
“Everybody ready?” the kid working at the venue shouts out.
Bryn is team red, I’m team blue, and glancing around at the group entering the game with us, we’ve been split up in pretty even numbers. A handful of kids on each team, probably aged thirteen or fourteen, and then a group of adult friends are the contenders. My guess is they’ll all mostly leave us alone, playing within theirown dynamic, but an easy shot is an easy shot. It’s all about the points everyone can rack up, so the key is to keep focused at all times. While hunting my beautiful prey.
“Three…” A voice overhead speaks.
“May the best rider win.” Bryn glances up at me, an eyebrow cocked, coy smile gracing her full, pink lips that have a touch of gloss I’d love to kiss off. “Watch your back, cowboy.”
“Two…”
“I’ll be too busy watching yours,” I tell her, shooting her a wink.
As the words come out of my mouth, the voice overhead says “one” and the doors open. They’re wide enough a few of us can get through at a time, though Bryn and I are the last ones. It’s dark inside the big warehouse, but the place is lit up with black lights and neon UV paint, highlighting the different set pieces: full walls turned mazes, cubby holes, platforms, half walls, crates, and other things to give people lots of places to hide and opportunities to sneak attack.
We have one minute to get lost through the place before the game commences, and Bryn wastes no time looking back or saying goodbye as she skitters away through the maze of walls.
“You can run…!” I call after her.
I hear her answering laughter a second later behind a wall to my left. Closer than I would have thought. “And I can hide!”
With another thirty seconds to go, I use my time to try and get the lay of the land recorded in my brain. Best hiding spots. Potential places she might go to place an attack on me. Up above on a platform, or down low through an opening in an obstacle.
When the game finally starts, screams and laughter ring out over the music pumping through the speakers, masking the sound of footsteps and creepers coming up on you. I smoke a kid withmy laser beam, then an adult, two kids, and another adult, taking the easy shots as they come. Just like I thought, the groups tend to stick to themselves rather than branching out and taking all the points they can get, and I’m feeling pretty damn good about my game when I spot her.
The white shirt she’s wearing lights her up like a Christmas tree on a dark, cold December night. Rookie mistake when it comes to laser tag and wanting to stay camouflaged in the dimly lit spaces.
She’s peeking around a corner, back to me, gun pointed out in front of her, ready to take a shot. There’s a half wall that I came along shielding my lower half, and I duck down as she moves, keeping my eyes above it to watch what she’s doing. I thought she was about to twist in my direction, but instead she darts out from her corner and must tag someone else because I hear an “Aw, fuck!” as she runs through a couple of blockades and around another wall.
I take off after her, slowing down as I come across the place where she hit the other target. The guy is still standing there, one of the adults, and his vest lights up just as I get in range. Poor schmuck. I hit him before he even knows what happened and then keep going, slowing down as I round a corner in the direction Bryn went.
This is where I lost sight of her, but I swear she’s not far. I can feel her near me.
A streak of white lights up my periphery as I peek around a set of orange crates. To my right, it darts between two walls creating a V. Slight, petite, chin-length bob.
Bryn.
“Gotchu,” I whisper to myself, formulating a plan as I look around the area at what I can use to my advantage. There are twowindows cut into the hiding spot she’s found herself, at varying heights, the perfect place for an ambush.
