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“If you get bumped back to start, you have to do whatever the other person says,” I explain as I set up everything. “And when your piece makes it home to the safe zone, you’ll give a demand.”

“Anything?” He raises a brow.

“Anything,” I reiterate. “Unless you have limits?”

“Do you?” His lips tilt up just slightly on one side.

“Nope. I’m all in.”

“Alright. Well, since this is your game, I’ll be all in too.”

“Great. Ladies first then.”

I draw a card and get one, so I take my pawn out and move it. We go back and forth until I land where he is and send him back to start.

“So, what do I have to do?” he asks with a cocky grin.

If he thinks I’m going to take it easy on him, he’s a fool. I’m done waiting and am going straight for what I want.

“You have to kiss me.”

His lack of reaction scares me for a moment before he leans forward, grabs my hand, then kisses my knuckles.

My face scrunches. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“You didn’t specify where I had to kiss you.”

Motherfucker.

“Okay, fair point.” Next time, I’ll be crystal clear.

His next card is an eleven, which can be used to move eleven spaces or switch places with an opponent. He decides to bump me back to start and take my spot.

“Guess it’s your turn to tell me what to do,” I say, hiding my nervousness.

“Think this might be the first time you’ll actually do something for me,” he muses, and I roll my eyes.

“Har har. Now what is it?”

“Give me a foot massage.”

“What?” My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Yep, and I want it with lotion,” he adds with a devilish smirk that I’d like to smack off his handsome face. “There’s some in the bathroom.”

Groaning, I stand and search for the bottle. It’s some kind of medicated shit that smells like coconut.

When I return, Tristan has his leg on the coffee table with his jeans rolled up and his sock and shoe are off. The smug bastard leans back on the couch with his hands behind his head. When our eyes meet, he wiggles his toes and tells me he’s ready.

Deciding to play him at his own game, I kneel and grab his prosthetic, easing it against my leg.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a massage…” I say casually, rolling his pant leg up and exposing the prosthesis. “You didn’t specify which foot,” I say, throwing similar words back at him.

“That’s literally pointless. My right foot is rubber.”

“And it’ll get the best rub of its life,” I muse, pulling off his shoe, then lathering lotion in my hands.

He watches me intently as I slowly knead my fingers around, making sure to even get the toes. His jaw ticks as I lick my bottom lip and stroke the base of his plastic foot. After five minutes, I wipe off the lotion, then help put on his shoe.

“How was that?” I ask with a smirk.

“Couldn’t say.”

“Guess it’s my turn,” I say, chuckling at his brooding expression.

We take a few more turns until I pick up a Sorry! card and send him back to start. This time, I’m fully prepared to get what I want.

“Whatcha got this time?” He arches a brow.

I stand between his legs, then straddle his lap with each of my thighs outside his. “You have to close your eyes and not move.”

“Piper,” he warns in his smooth baritone that sends shivers down my spine. His hands grip my hips as my body rocks against his.

“And no talking,” I add.

His expression hardens, but he doesn’t argue as he relaxes and does what I say. I lick my lips, determined to go through with this because if I don’t, I’ll always wonder what if.

I grip his shoulder with one hand and his face with my other as I lean in and brush my mouth over his. He sucks in a breath as I slide my tongue between his lips and add more pressure.

Without warning, he growls and squeezes my hips hard. The indentation of his fingers will most likely leave marks on my skin.

But I definitely don’t mind.

“Now kiss me back,” I whisper against his mouth, knowing he’ll use that as an excuse if I don’t order him.

“You’re testing me, Piper. We shouldn’t be this close,” he murmurs.

“Why? I can feel how much you like it when I’m on top of you,” I say, grinding down on his cock that’s pressing against the fabric of my leggings.

“A million reasons. I work for your family. I’m much older. I’m supposed to be protecting you, not letting you get off on my dick.”

A moan escapes me as I continue my rhythm, my clit begging for more.

“I could easily come just like this,” I taunt, brushing my lips against his ear as he stiffens.

My breathing escalates, and so does his. Regardless of why we shouldn’t be doing this, our bodies move together in perfect harmony.

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