Page 8 of Almost Ravaged

“Or was it three times?” He pulls the trigger again.

My body tenses, wound so tightly I can barely breathe.

He lowers his head until his lips are inches from mine. “Should we make it even, or do you think you should get a few extra shots on me?”

My erratic breathing is the only answer I can conjure.

Tytus pulls the trigger again. And again.And again.

I moan, loud and wanton, the sound unlike anything that’s ever come out of me before.

“Fuckin’ A,” he mumbles in response, pressing his forehead into mine. “Tell me not to kiss you, Sawyer. Tell me right fucking now.”

I shake my head. I want his kiss. Just like I want him to keep firing the laser gun until the vibrations send me free-falling over the edge.

Boldly, I grasp the wrist of the hand he’s using to pull the trigger.

“No, as in you don’t want this? Or no, you won’t tell me to stop?”

My finger finds his, and together, we compress it once more, sending pulses through my core as well as his chest.

My knees nearly buckle beneath me.

“Words, mon ange. I need to hear you say it.”

“The—the second one. Don’t stop.Pleasedon’t stop,” I beg.

He presses his entire body into mine until my back hits the wall. The laser tag gun digs into my thighs, the sensation of the barrel against my core making my insides clench.

Just one more hit. That’s all I want. All Ineed…

“Tytus.” I lick my lips and tip my head back to grant him better access. “Kiss me.”

Time stands still. We’re locked together like this, his scent engulfing me, our bodies so close I don’t know where his ends and mine begins. I part my lips on instinct, desperate to taste him.

His lips ghost over mine, hovering on the precipice.

I close my eyes, prepared to surrender to what I’ve secretly craved for so long.

It’s happening. This is really happening.

A buzzer sounds in the distance, and the overhead lights illuminate the arena. I startle, and Tytus pulls back, eyes wide and panicked.

The game is officially over.

Chapter four

Sawyer

“We lost by half a million, you guys. What the actual fuck?”

Atty’s outrage would be comical if I wasn’t partially to blame. Still out of sorts after the moment Tytus and I shared, I slouch against the seat behind the guys and avoid catching my brother’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“The equipment had to be the problem. Some of those kids didn’t even look old enough to play U8. There’s no fucking way we lost by that much.”

I roll my lips to stifle a nervous laugh.

He turns to Tytus, who’s been sitting quietly in the passenger seat since we left the laser tag arena. If his quietness has anything to do with our almost-kiss, it’s hard to tell, since the silence is pretty typical for him.