Fair Game
Page 25

 Monica Murphy

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Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes, pretty please with your sugared lips on top of mine.
I shrug, wishing I could tear my gaze from his but I…can’t. “Well, yeah. If you want.”
The man actually has the nerve to laugh. “If I want, she says.” He shakes his head and looks down, the sight of the wry smile curling his perfect lips making me feel a little wild, a little out of control. Like I want to throw myself at him and see if he’d catch me. I think he would. Scratch that. I know he would. I can feel it in my bones. “You just said you hated me.”
“Um.” I swallow hard, feeling twenty times the fool for making that statement. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Uh huh.” He inhales deeply, his chest rising and falling in this magical way that has me staring. His chest is really broad. And hard. His entire body is hard. I should know, since I tried to climb him only a few minutes ago. “I shouldn’t.”
Ugh. His refusal of me is starting to give me a complex. His speech about wanting me to remember everything is ringing false. Maybe he finds me repulsive. I was a total bitch the entire night so I can’t blame him. Besides, isn’t this what I want? To be rid of Shep Prescott once and for all?
No. Don’t bother lying to yourself. You want him. And it makes you crazy.
“Why shouldn’t you?” I ask.
“I already told you why.” He removes his hand from my knee and I feel the loss of his touch. “Let’s get you home.”
“No.” I give in to my urges and lunge at him, throwing my body on top of his. He lets out a surprised grunt, his hands landing on my waist as I readjust myself so I’m straddling him in the driver’s seat, my knees on either side of his hips, my skirt riding up so high I’m probably flashing my panties.
But I don’t care. I’m drunk and my head is spinning. Being in such close quarters with Shep is a heady feeling. His big hands slide to my hips, our panting breaths mingle together. I brace my hands on the seat just above his head and look down at him to find he’s staring in fascination at my chest, which is mere inches away from his mouth.
Oh, God. His mouth. I want it on me. On my skin. I want his tongue on me too…
“Jade.” He tilts his head up, his gaze meeting mine and then he shuts his eyes on an agonized groan, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt and touching my bare skin. My breath catches at first contact and all I can think is more please. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Oh, this is fun, torturing Shep. I release the seat to touch his hair once more, curling a soft strand around my finger, watching with breathless anticipation as he slowly opens his eyes, the mysterious dark brown depths drawing me in, hypnotizing me.
“I won’t kiss you,” his perfect lips say.
I slump against him, letting my forehead press against his. Now I’m the one who’s tortured. “You’re being ridiculous.”
He squeezes my hips. “There’s something to be said for anticipation.”
“What, that you’re trying to drive me out of my mind?” God, he’s so warm, so solid beneath me. I remove my hand from his hair and rest it on his shoulder. His broad as a mountain, very muscular and perfect shoulder.
Everything about this man screams perfection.
“Think of how much better this will be when we finally do kiss,” he murmurs as he reaches out and gently cradles my chin, his index finger drifting across my lips in a ghostly caress. “Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes sliding shut for a brief moment and a surge of power rushes through me.
His other hand tightening around my hip, he caresses my skin with his thumb and all the power drains out of me, just like that. I want to scream. I want to press my mouth to his and end this torturous moment. I could. It would be so easy. Just lean in and do it. Settle my mouth on his and force him to kiss me.
But I don’t. Something inside me makes me hold back. Instead I lift my forehead away from his and lean back, studying him. Look my fill since this is the first time I’ve had Shepard Prescott so close. Like I can see every single one of his pores close or I can count every single one of his eyelashes close.
He has a lot of eyelashes. And those dark, dark eyes that reveal nothing. He watches me as intently as I watch him, his lips slowly parting as he works his jaw, drawing my attention to the stubble that grows there.
It’s tipped with gold too, just like his eyelashes, his hair, his fucking bank account. I bet he has a secret stash of gold bars buried deep somewhere and again, I’m hit with the notion that I’m nothing to this guy. He’s just a player and I’m most likely setting myself up to get played.
“It’ll be worth the wait,” he finally says, his deep voice breaking the silence.
I raise a brow. “Are you saying you’re worth the wait?”
He smiles and shrugs. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s on top of me.”
It’s the way he says it, his words layered with all sorts of sexual innuendo. I’m both irritated and aroused. Irritated more at myself for being aroused.
How I feel about Shepard Prescott is ridiculously confusing.
With an exaggerated sigh I lift away from him, noting the way his hands suddenly become involved as I tumble back into the passenger seat. His fingers tickle along my back and drift across the inside of my thigh in the move and I yelp, falling into the seat like an idiot, breathless and frazzled by his sneaky touch.
Shep doesn’t say a word. He barely even looks at me. Merely puts the car into drive and pulls back into the street, turns up the music as we continue our drive back to the dorms. Like what just happened between us is no big deal.
But it’s a huge deal. I almost kissed Shep. I threw myself at him and he refused. Talked like he plans on doing this with me again. And again. That in the end, we will end up naked together and oh my God, I can’t freaking wait.
“So what happened, you big ho? You totally fucked him, didn’t you?”
I barely crack my eyes open at first sound of Kelli’s voice. When Shep dropped me off at the dorms a few hours ago, I’d found my room empty. I figured Kelli was out with Dane.
I’d been thankful for the alone time. My head still spinning from too much alcohol, I’d stripped down to my panties, threw on an old tank top and collapsed into bed. But I couldn’t sleep, too wound up from my weird date with Shep, going over and over in my mind everything that happened. The way he looked at me. How he touched my lips, his fingers light, the tortured sound of his voice. The things he said.
You’re drunker than I thought because I want you so fucking much it’s killing me.
I want you just as into this as I am. Nothing less.
There’s something to be said for anticipation.
Unable to stop myself, I slipped my hand beneath my panties, feeling sneaky. When was the last time I touched myself like this? It was sort of difficult, what with a roommate and all. So I took advantage of my opportunity and proceeded to bring myself to orgasm with my fingers, imagining they were Shep’s fingers instead. Then immediately fell asleep to dreams of Shep actually completing that kiss. His mouth soft and firm as it took command of mine…
“Wake up, slut bag,” Kelli insists, her voice shrill.