Chapter Eight
Layla
Two can playthis fucking game.
I’m buzzing when I wake up the next day. There’s no shame or embarrassment like before. No, this time, I wake up tingling all over, and giddy. I feel excited, and maybe even a little naughty when I think about Mason and his “challenge.” He wants to play games? Well, he’s about to get schooled. He wants to see which of us is going to “break” first?
I grin as I pour my morning coffee. I’ve got nine years on this guy, not to mention, an extensive collection of sexy lingerie and bikinis. Excitement courses through me as I think it through. Oh, Mason Dunn’s just started a war he’s definitely going to lose, because I’m going to make it my mission to watch him break first.
I pick up my phone, and I call the pool company again.
“Yes, hello,” I say to the man who identifies himself as Mickey who answers the phone. “This is Layla Hughes over at nine-thousand-and-eight Canyon Grove Ave.”
I smile and shake my head when the guy groans and asks “what the kid did”.
“Oh, no-no, Mason was excellent, and the pool looks fantastic! Well, it’s just that, I think I may have messed up some of the chemicals last night, and it’d be great if he could come back over and check the levels and maybe give it one more clean? No, of course, please do bill me for a second visit.”
I bite my lip as Mickey checks his calendar, and then I grin wickedly.
“This morning would be perfect,” I gush. “You can tell him to let himself into the backyard with the gate. Thank you!”
I hang up, and a shiver of heat teases through me.
Game. Fucking. On.
I shower slowly, and I take my time shaving my legs. I slip on the skimpiest, most scandalous bikini I own, grab some iced coffee from my fridge, and head out to the pool. I throw a towel over one of the loungers and lay back in it with my shades on. It’s already hot out here, and it’s barely nine in the morning. I sip my coffee, I grin in anticipation, and I wait.
For one second, I take a pause and try and ask myself what the hell I think I’m doing. I mean, honestly, what’s the plan here? To toy with him? Or do I want more? I can tell myself that I’m teasing him until he breaks, because I’m competitive like that. But it’s also fun as fuck. It’s wild to tempt this unbridled, hormone-heavy stud, and it’s exciting.
And God help me, I’m already turned on.
Barely half an hour later, lying on my stomach reading, I hear the creak of my gate, and I grin.
“This seems outside the rules,” Mason growls from behind me. I hide my smile and turn my head to glance at him over my shoulder.
“Oh I’m sorry, what rules would those be?” I ask innocently. I bite my lip as my eyes slide over him behind my shades. God, he looks good—shirtless in just a bathing suit, bronzed golden, and looking fucking yummy. But then, I also catch his eyes slide all over me. My bottoms are basically a thong, pulled up between the globes of my ass, and Mason makes precisely zero attempt at hiding where his gaze centers. I shiver, feeling his eyes pry between my thighs at the thin strip of fabric covering my pussy.
He finally drags his eyes lazily up to my face, and he grins wolfishly. “Well, nice move,” he purrs. “So what ‘chemical levels’ should I be checking?”
I grin. “Oh, you know what? I actually took care of that. But, since you’re here, maybe you could give it another cleaning?”
He arches a brow, and I shrug with a smile on my face.
“It’s just that I think you missed a few spots yesterday.”
He shakes his head, growling through a heated grin. “Alright, let’s play.”
Mason gets his stuff out and starts to put the vacuum down into the water again. I turn onto my back and watch him, iced coffee in hand. He glances at me, and I smile sweetly as I take the straw in my lips. I suck, hollowing my cheeks, and a thrill courses through me when I see his jaw clench. I pop my lips off with a soft wet sound and let my tongue swirl over the straw to grab the last drop.
Mason growls, and I shiver. Oh, this is going to be too fun.
I spend the next half an hour torturing him. I flip-flop in my chair, even going so far as to get on my hands and knees and thrust my ass up high, as if I’m stretching or doing yoga. Mason’s eyes hungrily devour my every move, and I can barely stop looking at the bulge in his shorts. The sun beats down on both of us, and I can feel sweat teasing down the small of my back, just like it’s dripping from him. He looks like sex on a stick, melting in the sun, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to break with my teasing before he does.
Finally, I’m going out of my mind. I turn onto my back, my whole body pulsing for him, and I glance over my shoulder again.
“Oh, Mason?”
It’s the first words either of us have spoken in half an hour. He looks up at me with raw fire and hunger in his eyes.