Page 117 of End Game

“Dex,” she whimpers when I resist her redirection again.

“Hmm?”

“You suck.”

“I do, but not currently.”

She makes a strangled sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

I grin. “That was too easy.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” I nip her lip.

“Strongly dislike you.”

“Also bullshit.”

She reaches for my dick, and I catch her wrist.

Her eyes immediately snap to mine.

There’s fire in those blue orbs, and this is just another move in the game we’ve been playing all night.

I push her back, creating space between us. “You’ve been talking a lot of shit for someone who wants something from me.”

She laughs. “Are you seriously holding a grudge over air hockey?”

“No, over you telling me you hate me, but… three fraudulent victories are hardly—”

“Fraudulent?”

“—the foundation of a healthy relationship.”

“You are such a sore loser.”

I pull her close again and kiss her.

Then, I push her away again.

“Dex.” That one comes out considerably less amused.

Fuck, that’s satisfying.

But I know her. I know the difference between Dex you’re an asshole and Dex, I actually need something.

And right now?

Definitely asshole.

“Ask nicely,” I purr.

She stares at me. “Seriously?

“Very.”

“After I took you on an entire date?”