Fair Game (The Rules 1) - Page 66

Ah, so he considers it running. I figured he’d found another girl and that was the end of Shep and Jade. “So you ran away from me?” After I gave you a blowjob? I want to say exactly that but I’m too embarrassed. I’ll be humiliated if he hated it.

And he must’ve hated it if it made him run.

“Yeah.” He nods, lifts up his hand to run it across his cheek. I don’t think he’s shaved and it’s like I can feel the rasp of his whiskers. As if I’m the one who’s touching him. “It’s what I do. Run. I’m real good at it. Should’ve been on the cross country team when I was in high school. Or track. Yeah, definitely track. I would’ve kicked ass at both of them but I was too busy lighting up bombs and trying to burn down the chem lab.”

I frown. He’s not making any sense. And he has that ever-present red cup in his hand. “Hand it over,” I tell him, wagging my fingers at him, indicating I want to see it. He offers it to me and I lift the glass to my nose, sniffing at the contents.

Nothing.

Though aren’t some liquors hard to smell? As in they’re odorless. I’ve heard that about vodka…is that what’s in Shep’s cup? I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Are you drunk?” I hand him back his cup, thankful that he moves away from me. Even though it’s only by a few inches, it’s still enough to make me feel like I can breathe again.

He smiles and the sight is fucking dazzling. He has the best smile ever. I’m breathless all over again just looking at him. “That’s my goal.”

Ugh. Men are pathetic. “I think you’re close.” I sigh. “Just tell me what you’re drinking.” Why I care I don’t know. He should be drinking cheap beer like everyone else but nooo. He’s Shepard Prescott, special snowflake.

“No way. You’ll steal it from me.” He brings the cup to his lips and swallows. I watch unabashedly as he drinks, his lips curved around the red plastic, his throat working as he swallows. My mouth goes dry and he offers the cup to me once again. “Thirsty?”

I step closer as does he, and we meet in the middle of the tiny bathroom, Shep holding the cup out toward me as I take it. He doesn’t make any sense, not wanting me to steal his cup but then hands it out to me. Of course, this is probably a ruse so he can get closer and silly me I fall for it.

I take a sip, my gaze never leaving his as I swallow straight vodka on the rocks and I wince at the taste of it. He’s watching me so intensely, his expression softening, his eyes darkening, his mouth falling open ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” I whisper as I hand him his drink back.

“Jade…” His voice trails off and he sets the cup on the bathroom counter, turning to face me fully. He looks serious. Too serious.

I need to get out of here.

“I should go.” I try to push past him but he grabs hold of my arm, his fingers curling around the crook of my elbow, keeping me from leaving.

“Don’t go,” he murmurs, his voice so low I almost don’t hear him. “Please.”

I turn my head to look at him, our gazes locking. I’m shaking. Can he feel it? I should hate him. What he did to me is unforgiveable. I’m self-conscious enough already. His seeming rejection only made it worse. Made me feel worse. “I can’t,” I whisper, trying to withdraw my arm from his grip but he only clamps his fingers tighter. “You hurt me, Shep. I refuse to put myself through that again.”

He looks shocked at my admission and I use his shock to my advantage. I pull out of his hold and lurch toward the bathroom door, reaching up to undo the deadbolt when he’s suddenly there, pressing his big, warm body against mine, trapping me between the door and him.

“Let me explain.” His hand is at my waist, slowly sliding down, over my hip, my thigh, along the edge of my cutoff shorts, sending a spark of heat everywhere he touches me. I close my eyes, hold back the whimper that wants to escape at his assured touch and I press my forehead to the door. His fingers dance along my thigh, stroking upward, beneath the denim and I buck against him, trying to get him off me but it only makes things worse.

Because I can feel him—hard and hot, his erection nudges against my butt and now I’m the one who’s shocked. Did I do that to him? Do I still have that much power over him?

“There’s nothing to explain,” I say to the door, keeping my eyes tightly closed. It’s bad enough I can smell him, feel him, hear him. I don’t want to see him. If I look in his eyes, stare at his beautiful face, I’ll give in. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to take the risk of getting hurt again.

How’s that old saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on…

Me.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He pushes my hair away from my shoulder and I can feel his breath on my neck right before he kisses it. My knees threaten to buckle at first touch of his lips on my skin and I grip at the door, grasping at nothing but smooth, painted wood. “I swear, Jade. It kills me to know that I ruined this.”

See, there’s the thing that bugs. He did ruin it. But I’m so weak, so attracted to him still, that I would let him back in. Easily. I know I shouldn’t. I’m only asking for trouble. Hearing the pain in his voice, feeling him strain against me though, I want to give in. Right now.

I need to remain strong. Ignore his mouth on my neck…oh God, on that one spot just behind my ear that makes me shiver. I’m shivering right now as his hand slips beneath the hem of my tank, his other hand smoothing my hair back. He’s everywhere, surrounding me with his scent and his touch, his heat and his body. I press closer to the door, plastering myself to it and he follows my lead by plastering his body to mine.

Tags: Monica Murphy The Rules
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