Page 19 of End Game

Her eyes widen.

Mine almost close.

This touch is different—warmer, more concentrated, impossible to ignore—but because I put her there, my brain doesn’t treat it like an intrusion.

Her eyes find mine again, and she leans in and kisses me. I pull her closer, wanting to feel her body flush against mine.

She breaks the kiss and studies me for a moment. “So do I always need to ask?”

I think about the question before answering, “No. That would probably get annoying for both of us.”

Her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t quite laugh.

“I think both individually and as a group, we’ll need to set up parameters,” I clarify. “If I know what kind of touch to expect, I don’t necessarily need to know every individual movement before you make it. I just can’t be caught off guard.”

She kisses me again.

When the kiss breaks, I say, “I think when I’m not trying to perform… sexually, and we’re in moments like this,” I deliberately let my gaze travel down her body before returning to her eyes. “You can touch anywhere I can track your hand, and it’ll be okay. But don’t come up behind me and don’t surprise me. Those are the main things I need from you.” I pause and add, “There may be times when I’m already overstimulated or dysregulated, when I can tolerate less, but we can cross those bridges if we need to.”

Her smile is mischievous. “You gave me touch rules.”

“I gave you parameters.”

“Those are rules with a sexier name.”

“They’re objectively and factually not.”

“Can I touch your hair?” she asks with a wide smile.

I sigh.

Her grin widens.

“Yes, Cami, you can touch my hair.”

Her fingers thread through the hair above my ear, slow enough for me to follow.

It’s more sensation than her hand on my chest. More movement. More variables.

But I know it’s coming.

I know it’s her.

And I like it.

She watches her fingers at first, then looks at me. A question without words.

I smile.

A silent keep going.

Then she tips up and kisses my forehead, and peppers kisses across my brow to my temple, all while her fingers continue playing with my hair.

She pulls back and looks me in the eye. Her hand moves back to my cheek, and she brushes a thumb over my lower lip before she kisses me again.

Eventually, she settles against me, her head on my shoulder and her face tucked into my neck.

One arm stays around her waist. My other hand rests on her bare thigh. Hers settles against my chest.