Page 85 of Play The Game

The bathroom door slams open and Ash storms in, kicking it shut behind him. I clutch my towel like he hasn’t watched Harley eat me out in public and blush like an idiot.

“I have had the patience of a fucking saint,” he says, and I gape at him.

“Do you want a fucking medal?” I sputter, and he steps forward until he’s crowding me back into the bathroom sink.

“No, I want you to trust me and trust that there’s nothing that trashy whore could do that I couldn’t fix for you. They want to kick you out? I’ll fix it. They want to bad mouth you? I’ll fix it. They want to hurt you in any way? I’ll fucking fix it.”

His eyes are like the center of a flame, searingly hot blue that burns me until I’m panting up at him. I can’t function or form a reply when he’s looking at me like that.

I pull away and root around until I find a clean set of bra and panties, matching and chosen by Ash last year. I try not to blush and fumble as I slip them both on while his eyes roam over my skin possessively. When I reach for my shirt, he grabs my hand and tugs me into his chest. Snapping the bathroom door open, he barks out, “Go away, Avery.”

Avery startles from where she’s sitting at the kitchen bench with her coffee texting, her eyes wide as she takes us both in.

I gape at Ash, and from the indignant noise his sister makes I know she’s just as pissed about it. “This is my fucking room, asshole!”

He smirks at her and my heart stops. Oh fuck. “Well, I’m about to lay the Mounty out on the closest flat surface and spread⁠—”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT FUCKING SENTENCE!” Avery screeches, scrambling out of the chair and grabbing her ballet bag. Cursing him out, so fucking colorfully I can’t believe it’s her doing it, she storms out, slamming the door behind her.

I could die.

Ash only looks more determined once we have the room to ourselves.

“I’m still pissed off,” I say, because a sweet declaration hasn’t changed my mood. Okay, it has changed it a little but I’m still practically vibrating with anger.

“Good. It’ll only make you come harder.”

Sweet merciful lord.

“Wait, you can’t just—” He cuts me off with a blistering kiss and then I forget why the fuck I was arguing with him.

One of his hands wraps around my throat so his thumb fits under my chin, tipping my head back to where he wants it. It should not be a turn on, especially with his family’s history, but I fucking gush at his firm grip.

He walks me backward until I’m pinned against the table by his body, his dick pressing against my stomach and, holy shit, I forgot how big he is. I forget I’m kissing him, dazed and a little terrified, and he scoffs at me, tapping my hip until I hop up onto the table. When I move to wrap my legs around his hips, he holds my legs down, spreading them wide. I frown at him, because I might be nervous but I don’t want to stop, and the smirk on his face only gets wider.

“Lie back. I want to enjoy the lingerie I picked for you. I’ve spent a long fucking time thinking about how it would look on you.”

I blush but do it, gasping as my back hits the cold table. The possessive look is back as he runs his hands down my chest, squeezing and teasing my tits, then sliding down until he can stroke back over the scrap of black lace between my thighs. I shiver, choking on the moan that claws its way out of my throat when he rips the lace clear off my body. The rumble deep in his chest lets me know what he thinks of the sight of my wet pussy spread wide for him.

“Avery will have an aneurysm if she finds out we did this on the table. She’s been clear about her stance on the furniture,” I choke out, and he drops to his knees.

“Don’t tell her then, Mounty,” he says, and any reply I could have come up with disappears the second his mouth touches me.

Holy. Fuck.

Holy Jesus fuck.

Okay, getting head is the best fucking thing and why did I wait so damn long to start dating? Stupid question, I was waiting until I found the three hottest guys who ever walked the Earth and then somehow managed to convince them all to share me. Fuuuuuuuck. As he teases at my clit, my brain switches off and I start to grind against his mouth, chasing the sensation until I’m splintering apart at the fucking seams, but he doesn’t stop. He’s fucking merciless as he pushes and pushes until I come again, gasping and crying out into the silence of the room.

Lord, he is good with his tongue.

When my thighs finally stop shaking, I sit up and tug at his shoulders until he stands, kissing me until we’re just panting into each other’s mouths, sharing the taste of my slick pussy between us.

I want him.

I don’t think beyond that, sliding off the table and onto my knees as I reach for his belt with steady fingers. He smirks at me and helps to undress. I swallow roughly at the sight of his chest, all the lean solid muscle of a runner. Only when he’s kicked his pants and boxers off do I glance down, but my eyes land on a smudge of ink right above his dick.

I can’t even focus on anything but the tattoo.