Page 76 of The Wrong Game

He makes the catch! And he’s going, going, that’s the thirty…

He paused, the crowd still roaring as I rode faster, faster.

The twenty… The ten…

“Oh, fuck,” I cried, eyes squeezing shut. Fire burned through me, slow and warm at first before it was an all-out inferno, searing every inch of me as my orgasm caught and took me under.

Touchdown!

“Yes!” I cried, rocking my hips more. Zach reached down to rub my clit, lengthening my orgasm as I shook and throbbed around him. “Yes, yes, God,yes.”

Zach groaned, and the hand that was working my clit moved to my breast. He squeezed it tight, his other hand on my hip, and he started to move with me, taking control as my orgasm slowed. His hips moved faster, meeting mine from beneath, and then he winced, mouth falling open as his entire body stiffened and shuddered.

Something between a growl and a moan ripped from his throat, his own release pulsing hot and thick inside me. Even through the condom I felt each ripple, and I moaned at the feel of him reaching the same ecstasy I’d just had, of knowing I was the reason he was there.

He thrust inside me once more, this time holding me still, his cock throbbing inside me as he expelled the last of his release. And then, like a whistle had just blown, like the game had been called, we both collapsed into each other, arms wrapping, hands shaking, breaths loud and heavy and exhausted.

We sighed, we smiled, and then Zach rolled until he was lying down with me resting on his chest.

“Goddamn, little girl,” he said, whistling.

I just giggled, burying my face in his slick chest as he wrapped me into him tighter.

He laughed a little, too, shaking his head as his breaths settled. His hand wove in to my hair, rubbing the scalp before gently running through the strands. “So much for being nervous,” he said, peering down at me.

I flushed, burying my face in his chest more and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’mstillnervous,” I argued. “And it’s already over.”

Zach chuckled. “Well, roundoneis over, anyway.”

I swallowed, stiffening in his arms, which earned me another haughty laugh.

“Can I at least have like, ten minutes?” I asked. “And maybe some water. And a PB and J.”

“Only if you make me one.”

“Deal,” I said, popping up to peck my lips to his.

But he held me there, wrapping his arms around me tighter and lengthening that kiss until I was melting into him. He kissed my nose once he finally released his grip, smacking my ass when I hopped up from the couch.

“I have grape jelly,” I said, stealing his long-sleeve shirt off the floor and pulling it over my head. I flipped my hair out of the neck hole when the shirt was on, pointing at him. “Obviously. And if you like any other kind of jelly on your PB and J, you’re wrong.”

He scoffed. “Please, like I’d be some sort of monster and ask for strawberry.”

Smiling, I skipped past him into the kitchen, pulling out two plates and the ingredients I’d need. But before I could twist open the cap on the peanut butter, Zach was there behind me, wrapping me in his arms.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, squeezing me tighter, and I gave in, dropping the peanut butter and lacing my hands over where his rested on my stomach.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him, leaning back against him.

“You actually think I can form thoughts right now?”

I smiled. “Well, you came over here and wrapped me up in your arms,” I pointed out. “I just didn’t know if you were getting all soft on me again.”

“Nah, not yet,” he said, but then he turned toward me, shifting me in his arms so he could look in my eyes. “I do have one, serious question though.”

I swallowed, searching his gaze as my chest tightened. I didn’t know what he wanted to ask, but something told me that whatever his question was, I wouldn’t be ready to answer it, yet.

“Okay,” I said, voice barely a whisper.