Fair Game (The Rules 1)

It’s different with Shep though. I don’t know why. I like how he touches me. The things he says, spoken in that sexy as hell voice. He says he wants to fuck me and it’s like I melt. Just thinking about how he said it earlier, his mouth on mine now, his tongue working some sort of magic, his hand gripping the back of my neck, his other hand at my waist…I give in to my instincts and just let go.

Slowly I thrust my hips against his and I feel his erection straining beneath his basketball shorts, brushing against me, making my eyes practically roll back in my head. He’s so…big. I can tell. And so incredibly hard. He groans when I move against him and power flitters through me, making my head spin. Without thought I reach down, drifting my fingers along his length in a feather light touch and he rips his mouth from mine, staring at me with hungry eyes.

“What are you doing?”

My insecurities come rushing back, one on top of the other and I jerk my hand away from him while answering, “Touching you?” Though I phrase it more like a question. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel unsure.

His chest lifts and he exhales roughly. “We can’t do anything tonight. You already established that boundary.”

I can appreciate his respecting my boundaries. He’s more of a gentleman than I ever thought. “I won’t let you do anything to me,” I point out to him, shocked that I’m even about to say this. Here I go. “But I could do something for…you. To you.”

He stares at me, his gaze dropping to my lips, lingering there for a moment as he starts to shake his head. “No way.”

“Why not?” Now I’m offended. I reach for him again, about to wrap my fingers around him, shorts and all but he grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me.

“I don’t want you to think you—have to do this.” He drops his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Doing what?” I try to wrench my wrist out of his hold but he won’t let go. Damn it, he’s strong. I’d really like to see him naked. Everything within me goes molten at the mere thought and I squirm against him, his erection brushing against my sex and making me whimper.

“God, stop moving. Please.” He drops my wrist and grips my hips, holding me still. So still that I swear I can feel his cock throbbing against me. That’s so freaking hot. “I can’t believe that I’m turning down your offer. I never turn down offers like the one you’re making.”

Ugh. And this only reminds me that he’s a complete man-whore. “So why are you turning me down?”

“Because I can’t return the favor. You won’t let me tonight. I don’t want you to think that you have to do this as some sort of obligation.” He lifts his head so our gazes meet once more. “You confuse the hell out of me.”

I frown. “You confuse me too. My feelings for you confuse me.”

His lips quirk into this adorable little smile. Ugh, he’s just too cute. And sexy. And hot. And huge. “You have feelings for me?”

Great. Last thing I should’ve ever admitted to him. “Not like that,” I say as I start to swat his chest.

He grabs hold of my wrist again. His reflexes are impressively fast. “Then like what?” he asks quietly.

I can tell that this is A Moment. A time for me to be honest. It could go either way. Disastrous or momentous.

I’m hoping for momentous.

“I like spending time with you,” I admit in a whisper. His eyebrows lift in surprise. “You make me laugh. You make me feel good. You make me…”

“I make you what?” he urges. He’s whispering too and I realize that our position, how close we are, the way we’re watching each other, it feels so intimate. Almost too intimate.

“Want things I shouldn’t want.” I reach up and touch his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead. He closes his eyes, his lips parting and I lean in, my mouth level with his, inhaling his soft exhale. “Like you.”

And then I’m the one who’s kissing him, our mouths fused, my hands busy. I slip them beneath his T-shirt, coming into first contact with his firm abdomen and holy smokes, he’s hard there. I trace the ridges of muscle, feel his skin quiver and contract beneath my touch and I push his shirt up, wanting to feel more. Wanting to feel all of him.

“Jade.” The word is gruff, as if he’s trying to stop me but I feel like no one and nothing can stop me. I slide off of him, landing on my knees on the floor and he spreads his legs to accommodate my new position. “What are you doing?”

I almost want to laugh. He looks pained. The front of his shorts are tented with what appears to be a very aggressive, very large, erect penis and I seriously cannot wait to yank his shorts off so I can see this wonder in the flesh. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You don’t have to—” He hisses out a breath when I slip my fingers beneath his shorts and touch the inside of his thigh. It’s muscly and covered with soft hair—very masculine and big.

Everything about him so far is masculine and big.

“I don’t have to what?” I push the leg of his shorts up and start to kiss the inside of his knee, his thigh. He smells delicious. All fresh and clean, like soap and just beneath, the scent that is unmistakably Shep.

“Do this.” He chokes the words out, his head falling back against the couch again and I take my advantage. Rearing up on my knees, I reach for the waistband of his shorts and slowly start to peel it back, discovering that he’s not wearing underwear beneath those shorts.