Fair Game (The Rules #1) (26 page)

So the fact that pitiful little me is suggesting to him we make out for the night is really just…extremely lame. He’s going to turn me down. He
should
turn me down, and go to a bar or a party and pick up on some hot drunk chick who’d do whatever he wanted.

That’s the easy route. I’m the difficult route. The route not worth taking. I stiffen my shoulders, prepare for the blow that I know is coming and when I catch a glimpse of his perfect lips parting, I close my eyes and wait.

“If we’re going to make out.” He pauses and I crack open my eyes. “For
hours.
” A shiver runs through me at the pointed look he sends me. “Then I need to do something first.”

I frown, blinking up at him. “Like what?”

He rounds the kitchen counter so he’s standing beside me, towering over me really. He’s so tall. And broad. I want to climb him like a mountain. I
have
climbed him like a mountain and had a great time doing it too. “Stand up,” he commands quietly.

Without protest I do as he says, surprised at myself. Usually I’d offer a flippant remark. Maybe tell him to go fuck himself. But I’m too curious to see what he wants from me. Too excited at the prospect that in mere minutes, I’ll be in his arms, kissing him.

Shep steps closer and settles his hands at my waist. His head is bent, as if he’s staring down the length of my body and I want to shrink into myself. Disappear. Do I meet his approval? Not that I need it but I want him to be attracted to me. I want him to find me attractive.

Or is he actually seeing me—the real me—for the first time and realizing that maybe he doesn’t like me after all? With the old T-shirt and leggings, my chipped nail polish and ratty flip flops, I can’t hardly blame him. I’m sure the girls he’s normally drawn to are perfectly put together. Beautiful and smart and flawless.

I know deep down inside I’m none of those things.

My heart is racing and I exhale on a shuddery breath, my stomach clenching with nerves. What does he want from me? What will he say? Oh my God, what is he doing…?

He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and settles me on the edge of the counter, kicking away the barstool I was sitting on only moments before. When he steps forward, I have no choice but to spread my legs so he’s standing in between them. I keep my head bent though I can see him as he reaches out and grabs hold of the end of my braid.

And slowly pulls the band off, setting it on the counter.

“I don’t know what I like most about you,” he says conversationally as he methodically begins to undo my braid. His fingers sift through my hair, gently tugging and pulling, and it feels so good that my eyelids waver. Unable to help myself, I lean into him. “Your hair, your freckles or that fucking mouth of yours.”

I say nothing. The ability to speak has left me completely. The way he’s touching me, the words he’s saying…I’m undone. No other guy has ever had the ability to make me feel the way Shep does with only a few choice words and seemingly innocent touches.

No one.

My hair falls in heavy waves around my face, past my shoulders and then he’s smoothing it out, untangling it with his fingers and I want to die from bliss. Nothing feels better than someone playing with my hair.

And when that someone is Shep? It’s like pleasure overload. If I were a cat, I’d be purring and rubbing against him. Maybe even writhing around on my back, begging for more.

“I don’t like it when you pull your hair back or put it up,” he says, his voice this low, velvety whisper that washes over me, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “It shouldn’t be restrained. I like seeing it wild.”

He cups my cheeks with his hands and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. He studies me with those mysterious eyes, his expression serious, all traces of Shep the joker, Shep the charmer, gone. “I want to count your freckles.”

I’m frowning again. Is he for real? “That’ll take all day.”

His smile is faint, just a curve of lips, nothing else. “That’s the plan. You have so many. One in particular drives me crazy.”

I suck in a deep breath when he leans in close and presses his lips to the farthest left corner of my mouth. “This one on your lip,” he whispers, kissing me again at the same exact spot. His lips are so soft it’s like I can barely feel them touching mine. “Right there.”

Never in my life have I loved my freckles more. “I hated them when I was a kid.”

“I love them,” he says without hesitation. “And I love this mouth of yours too.” Another kiss. Tentative. Sweet. He’s saying the word love so casually and I don’t know what to make of that. “For all the sarcastic things you say.” He shifts, his mouth covering mine fully now, and his lips cling. “For the way you taste.” He draws my lower lip between his and sucks gently, making me whimper. I think he already knows how much I like that. “I fucking dream about these lips, Jade.”

“Y-you do?” I close my eyes when he kisses me deeper, his tongue darting against mine, retreating like a tease. Returning like a promise.

He pulls away from my mouth and I open my eyes to find him studying me, his gaze glittering. “Yeah.” His voice is more whisper than words—deep and dark and pulling me in, pulling me closer. I settle my hands at his sides, gathering the fabric of his T-shirt between my fingers. I’m fearful that if I don’t hold on, I might slip right off the counter. “More than once I’ve dreamed that you’re…I shouldn’t say it.”

People who do that sort of thing make me insane. I grip his T-shirt harder, tighter. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head, his thumbs streaking across my cheeks. “You’ll get mad.”

I can only imagine what he’s about to say. “Shep…”

His smile fades. “You never say my name enough.”

“Tell me what you dream about and I’ll say it so much you’ll want me to shut up.”

He laughs. God, I love his laugh. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“I won’t get mad,” I immediately say.

“Promise.” He gives my face a gentle shake. “And say my name again.”

“I promise. Shep,” I whisper, tingles sweeping over my skin when he studies my mouth intently before returning his gaze to mine.

He exhales loudly and presses his lips together. “You’re going to hate this.”

“I probably won’t.” I’m sure I will, but I must know. I have to know what I do to him in his dreams.

“Oh, you probably will.” Another exhale before he tilts my head up as he leans his down. Our mouths are so close I can feel his warm breath waft across my face and I want more. It doesn’t matter that he’s about to say something incredibly offensive. More like it’ll just turn me on, I’m sure. Maybe there’s something to what Kelli said, about being hornier when you’re on your period. I’m starting to firmly believe it. I’m on fire for Shep and I’ve never felt this way about a guy ever. “I’ve dreamed of you on your knees in front of me.”

My lips part on the softest gasp at his words and I swear his eyes go even darker. “Go on,” I whisper.

Shep doesn’t even hesitate. “And you’re giving me the most unforgettable blowjob of my life.” He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “And I warn you to stop, that I’m going to come in your mouth but you don’t stop.”

I can see it. Oh God, I can actually see this happening and I have never been a fan of giving blowjobs. But with Shep…I think I’d get off on him getting off.

My cheeks warm at the mere thought.

“Wh-what happens next?” I clear my throat, my eyes fluttering closed when he touches his mouth to mine in the barest kiss.

“You keep going,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I can’t stop watching you. Your hair is…everywhere. And your face is flushed and those pretty eyes of yours are wide as you stare up at me.” He releases his hold on my cheeks and nuzzles my face with his, his mouth at my ear when he whispers, “You lick the tip of my cock with your tongue, then wrap those fucking sexy lips around just the head and that’s it. I’m coming. And you don’t move, you don’t pull away. You just take it, swallow every bit of me and then…” His words trail off and all I can hear is his accelerated breathing and mine. I want more. I need to hear what happens next.

“And then what?” My voice is hoarse and shaky. I’m trembling. He’s so warm and solid and I cling to him, my hands falling to the waistband of his shorts, my fingers slipping just beneath to feel hard, hot skin.

“And then I wake up.”

I
should’ve never told Jade about the blowjob dream. One of the best dreams in recent memory, to be sure, but now she might think I’m not so subtly asking for one and I’m not.

Not yet, in any case. Though it’ll happen, mark my words. It’ll happen and I’ll probably fucking blow my wad at first touch of those magical Jade lips on the tip of my dick after all the dreams and fantasies I’ve had about them, but it’ll be worth it.

So fucking worth it.

She’s trembling. I can feel her shaky fingers as they dip beneath the waistband of my shorts and just her hands touching me so innocently have me sucking in a deep breath as I mentally tell my dick to calm down. I can’t begin to express just how disappointed I am we can’t take this any further tonight.

Wasn’t I the one who said there’s something to be said for anticipation? That night when I refused to kiss her because she was drunk? I was trying to be noble. Respectful. Two words no one would use to describe me.

I’m a total asshole for even uttering the word anticipation, for believing it’s a good thing. Anticipation fucking sucks.

“Come here.” I don’t give her a chance to answer or do anything. I take over, grabbing her ass and hauling her into me, her body flush with mine. She tips her head back, our gazes meet and I stare at her, fascinated with her pretty face. I notice something different every time I look at her and this moment is no exception. “Your eyelashes are red, like your hair,” I tell her, like she doesn’t know.

She tears her gaze away from mine. “Usually I have mascara on to darken them.”

“But you’re not wearing any makeup.” I touch the side of her face, the tip of her nose. Her skin is pale, the freckles like little flecks of cinnamon across her flesh and I drag my thumb across her plump bottom lip, liking how it catches right in the center.

“Half the reason why I was so mortified to run into you. No makeup. Sloppy hair,” she admits. “I’m wearing my oldest, most favorite T-shirt and ratty leggings. I’m a mess.”

“I noticed the holes.” I touch the one at the neckline of her shirt, then decide the hell with it and touch the one that’s just beneath her boob, my finger brushing against her ample chest. I am fucking dying to get a look at her tits naked. Does this make me an asshole? Probably, but I don’t care. Not at the moment. “You’re not a mess, Jade. I like you like this. You look…real.”

“Opposed to me looking fake all the other times we’ve seen each other?”

Ah, there’s my sarcastic girl. That smart mouth of hers is such a fucking turn on. There’s gotta be something wrong with me, that I like it so much. “I didn’t say that. Honestly? Seeing you like this makes my imagination run wild.”

Her brows draw together. How did I never notice they’re red too? Well, more like a deep auburn color. Very dark and perfectly arched. “How?”

I think I’m trying to seduce her with words. Not like I planned this but since we’re not going to do anything tonight, I should at least talk about it, right? What I want to do to her. With her. What I want her to do to me. With me. How I want to see her naked and flushed and moaning my name all while I’m buried deep inside her. I want to know what she looks like when she comes.