Page 163 of Let the Game Begin

“Many lovers,” he repeated thoughtfully and not a single emotion showed itself on his inscrutable face.

“Yeah,” I confirmed and he turned to face me, resting his hand on his stomach with the cigarette still giving off smoke between his index and middle fingers.

“You should go back to Detroit,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes like they were some mysterious place to be lingered upon. I didn’t know why he’d say something like that to me, and I certainly wasn’t pleased to hear him talking that way.

“Why should I leave?” I asked, clenching my hand into a fist and pressing it into my lips. I was curling up against myself like a hedgehog, perhaps out of fear about how he was going to answer.

“Because you’re not safe here,” he answered. He turned his stare back up at the sky and continued smoking.

“Because of the person sending those riddles?” I demanded, clinging to him. I couldn’t imagine being far away from there, from his family and from him. It was irrational, that thought, and it was stupid to hope that there was a real connection between the two of us, but I also didn’t want to exclude the possibility that he might feel something—anything—for me.

“Yes, but it’s not just that. I don’t want you to…” He stopped, rubbing his jaw where the hint of an incoming beard gave him a particular masculine appeal.

“Want me to what?” I prompted him, and he took another drag on hiscigarette, holding the smoke in for longer than usual before he released it through his nose.

“The heart can create illusions that destroy the soul. Often, we see only what we want to see. Even when it’s not there,” he answered cynically. He spoke with a removed sort of certainty that was difficult to gainsay.

“I’m not under any illusions,” I answered firmly. Neil took one last drag and put it out before turning to give me his full attention.

“You don’t understand. You shouldn’t—” And he didn’t finish because I leaned closer until I could capture his mouth with my own. Neil’s eyes widened in surprise, and he clenched his teeth to prevent me from deepening the kiss. I slowly rubbed myself against him, and after a few moments of resistance he caved with a frustrated groan. He opened his lips, warm and full, and allowed me to soar beyond desire, to lose myself in the thrill of his taste. I put a hand on his chest and my fingers slid against the warm fabric of his sweater. I could feel his heart beating, but it was his soul that I wanted to touch.

Neil slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and guided my head back to intensify the kiss. His tongue began hunting mine in that crude, passionate way that made it so hard to keep up with him. My heart flipped wildly with each languid touch. The more he kissed me, the more of me ignited. Jolts of electricity moved from the middle of my chest straight down between my thighs. Neil moved his lips against mine so confidently and expertly that it instantly aroused me, made me hunger for him. I was forced to interrupt our lustful collision, however, to take a breath of air. I paused, resting my forehead against his.

“You should get far away from me,” Neil insisted, licking his already-wet lips.

“I don’t see why,” I said miserably, and he looked into my eyes, irritated. I could read his moods perfectly now.

“If you continue to stay near me…” His hand stroked my neck before moving down my body, touching every part of me: breasts, stomach, torso, hip. He stopped at the button on my jeans and undid it, slowly pulling down the zipper.

“I would make you feel wanted every day.” He slipped a hand into myjeans and brushed his fingers against the fabric of my panties. My eyes went wide because I realized what he was going to do, but we were out in the open, in a hammock, extremely vulnerable to being discovered.

And yet…I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.

I felt paralyzed, overwhelmed by lust.

“You’d become addicted to my touch.” He began to rub me through the cotton, which was already feeling damp.

“N-Neil,” I stammered.

We were in the garden…in the garden…and…

“I’d give you intense pleasure…” He brushed aside the fabric that was in his way and grazed my outer labia with his cool fingertips. I was already hot and swollen with arousal. I blushed violently, embarrassed by how much my body wanted him and how little I could hide it.

“Urgent.” He pushed his index finger into me and my walls accepted him, yielding and wet. Although I was getting lost in his touch, I tried to grab his wrist and catch my breath.

“Deep.” Neil continued to knock me flat with his hoarse, mature voice. He pressed his finger in all the way and I gasped, squeezing my hand around his wrist but unable to put up any real resistance.

“Stop,” I begged, though my breathless tone undermined me.

“Uncontrollable.” He began moving his finger in and out of me with a perfectly calculated rhythm. “Powerful.” He sped up and I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning or screaming. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead to his chest.

“I’d make you enjoy it, Selene, and I’d give you this exhausting, sublime pleasure every single day.”

I arched my back as his thumb began to tease my clit, making my hips buck against his wicked hand. A moan escaped me and he grinned with pride.

“Shh, Babygirl,” he chided me, continuing his slow, seductive torture. All at once, I trembled and he bit my lower lip, pulling hard on it as my sex contracted around his finger. I sucked in a breath and buried my face in his chest, trying not to cry aloud.

“I’d let you use my body, my hands, my mouth, my tongue, but…” His baritone pushed me over the edge.