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He smirked so hard the edges of his eyes crinkled. “Drop your weapon.” I did it without hesitating. He didn't let go of his, I noticed. One of his hands slid down until it found the front of my yoga pants. “I'll just finger you until you come. How about that?”

“Fuck,” I groaned. His fingertips rubbed over the front of my panties, petting my sensitive skin so that it felt like I was wearing nothing. Trembling hard, I pushed my shoulders into the wall so I could keep standing. He made my bones soft as butter.

Dipping his hand into my panties, he kissed my mouth, sealing away my gasp. His tongue rubbed across my tastebuds in a gentle wave. All the while he made circles with his thumb on my swollen clit, two fingers burying to the knuckle inside of me. I was on the verge of orgasm, then he stroked my G-spot, motioning me to come hither. I did.

He held me against his sturdy body while my muscles flexed with lava-hot delight. It was fast, and intense, and it left me wanting more.

I grabbed for his giant erection but he caught my wrists. “Ah ah,” he chastised me, pressing his nose on my forehead. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Later. Let's finish the game first.”

“I like this game better.”

He breathed in sharply. “Me too, babe. I can't get enough of playing with you.”

“Let me jerk you off,” I begged.

“Jesus Christ that's tempting.”

I went to undo his zipper; his laser gun moved between us, blocking me. “I'll give you a head start,” he said.

I lifted my eyebrows dubiously. “You're choosing the game over a handy?”

“Three... two...”

“Fine. But you'll regret this.”

“We'll see,” he chuckled.

Grabbing my gun from the floor, I took off down the tunnel, my sneakers thudding louder in my ears than the music. I broke out into the main room. The scoreboard shined overhead—my team was five points down. I had to shoot Conner to win.

A scuffling sound came from my left. “I thought you were giving me a head start?” I said, twirling around. But it wasn't Conner aiming his gun at me.

It was Ben.