Page 28 of The Wrong Game

She blew out a breath, and her shoulders slumped with it, her head hitting my shoulder. She let out a soft groan, shaking her head before lifting it to meet my gaze again.

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh. “I just… I’ve never done this before. In theory, it seems so easy, but now that we’re here…”

“It’s scary.”

She smiled. “So,soscary.”

“If it helps, I’m a little scared, too.”

Her eyes doubled at that. “You?” She laughed. “You don’t seem scared at all.”

“I am,” I said, and I pulled one hand from her back pocket and held it between us. “See? I’m even shaking a little.”

She eyed my trembling hand, then swatted it away, pushing my chest. “You’re faking it.”

I smirked. “Okay, maybe I’m not shaking,” I said, wrapping her in my arms and pulling her flush against me again. Her breath caught, eyes flicking to my lips. “But I am nervous.”

“Why?”

I chuckled. “Have youseenyou?” Her eyes met mine then. “You’re beautiful, Gemma. You may be nervous because it’s been a while for you, but even if you’d just done this yesterday, you’d still feel what you’re feeling right now. And you know what?” I shrugged. “It’s kind of the best part.”

“Feeling like I need to throw up is the best part of tonight?” She scrunched her nose. “You’re not really selling it here.”

I fought a smile, lifting her chin again, until our lips were just inches apart. “No, feelingexcited.” I swallowed, searching her eyes before my gaze landed on those full lips of hers I’d been dying to taste. “You’re shaking because you want to touch me, because you want me to touchyou. It’s that rush of having someone’s hands on your body, someone new, someone who makes your heart race and your breath shallow.”

As if on cue, she let out a soft, shallow breath. “I don’t know how to do this,” she confessed, voice just above a whisper.

“Let me show you.”

I slipped one hand over her neck, fingers crawling up until her hair was locked in my grip. I pulled — just a little, tilting her lips up toward mine — and then, when she was balanced on her toes, her sweet breath meeting my lips, I kissed her.

Her warm lips trembled under the pressure of mine, chills racing down her arms, but then she sighed, leaning into me as her body collapsed into mine. She fisted her hands in my t-shirt, and I tightened my grip in her hair. When she opened that little mouth of hers and let me slide my tongue inside, we both moaned, and all the blood in my body rushed to where I ached most.

With my hands holding her steady, I walked Gemma back until her ass hit the arm of her couch. As soon as it did, she lifted her legs, wrapping them around me and pulling my neck down so she could kiss me harder. Her mouth devoured mine, and when I sucked that bottom lip of hers between my teeth and let it go with a pop, I shook my head on a smirk.

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to do this.”

“I’m remembering.”

The words were more of a pant, and then her hands were in my hair, pulling me back down to kiss her. I smirked, running my hands down her back to cup her ass and roll her against my hard on. We both groaned at that, and as much as I wanted to bury myself so deep inside her I’d need a map to find my way out, I knew I couldn’t.

Not yet. Not tonight.

Gemma was nervous. She was feeling her way through dating for the first time in who knew how long. I didn’t know if she’d been wrapped up in work, if someone had broken her heart, if she’d been in a long-term relationship or never had a boyfriend in her life.

All I did know was she was one of the most beautiful, most unique women I’d ever met in my life.

And I wanted to make her feel good.

I should have moved her to the bed. I should have taken my time, slowed down, stripped every piece of clothing off her with patience and reverence. But after a night of sitting next to her in those tiny little shorts, of watching her perfect breasts bounce in that tank top every time she jumped up and down, cheering for the team — I was past waiting.

“Lean back,” I demanded, propping a pillow up on the couch.

When she slid back, she tried to move off the arm of the couch, but I clamped my hand down on her thigh.

“No,” I said, taking her mouth in mine as I leaned her back. “That perfect ass stays here.”

I pulled back with a wicked grin, Gemma watching me with a mixture of curiosity, want, and apprehension. With her ass still propped on the arm of the couch, she was inverted now, hips higher than where her head rested on the pillow.