Page 94 of The Wrong Game

Gemma gathered up her presents while I tapped through my phone for a playlist.

“No Marvin,” she said, kissing my cheek as she passed on her way to the bathroom. I didn’t even look up, but I smirked, remembering how adorable she was that first night.

I settled on a playlist with acoustic rock, walking over to my Bluetooth speaker by the TV and powering it on before I hit play. The first slow, steady melody filled my apartment, and I took a seat on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table.

Gemma was taking a while, and I wondered if she’d maybe gotten sick. She didn’t seem anything past tipsy, but she had mixed liquor with beer at the bar. I played on my phone, checking social media and the game scores and trying to give her space. But after about ten minutes, I called out for her.

“You okay in there?” I asked, swiping through the ESPN highlights on my app.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

Her voice didn’t come from the bathroom, and I jerked my head up, confused. I hadn’t heard the bathroom door open or the toilet flush or the water run. When my eyes adjusted, though, I realized it didn’t matter.

Nothing else in the entire fucking world mattered.

Because Gemma Mancini was standing in my living room in a tiny, tight cheerleading outfit.

I dropped my phone onto the coffee table, jaw scraping the floor as I shamelessly devoured every inch of Gemma with my eyes. The burnt orange and navy blue fabric hugged her curves, the space between the top and the mini skirt exposing her tight, tan stomach, and her legs stretched on for miles under the frills. She’d tied her hair into pigtails, and they swung over her shoulders as she did a little turn.

Her ass peeked out from under the skirt when she did.

She wasn’t wearing any panties underneath it.

I groaned, biting my fist as I stood.

“How does it look?” she asked, batting her lashes with a knowing grin once she’d given me the full view.

“Like I’m not going to last long tonight.”

Gemma chuckled, but the smile fell quickly as she sauntered over to where I stood at the couch. She leaned in close, her lips nearly touching mine, but she paused with just a centimeter of space left between us.

“As long as you make me come first,” she whispered, then she pressed one hand into my chest, backing me away from the couch.

I couldn’t do anything but gape as she spun, shimmying in the skirt with her eyes watching me from over her shoulder. Then, her knees hit the couch cushions, her hands balancing on the back, and she arched her back, the bottom of her juicy ass peeking out from under the skirt. Her pigtails swung as she looked back at me again, and this time, she had her lip pinned between her teeth.

“Time to check that first item off the list.”

A groan ached out of me, and I’m pretty sure I broke some kind of record for how quickly I stripped out of my sweater, jeans, and briefs. Gemma just smiled, watching me the entire time with her perfect little ass propped up in the air, waiting.

“You know this was just a joke,” I said, sliding up behind her. My hands automatically went to her ass, and I flipped the cheerleading skirt up to get a better view. “The list and this outfit. I never thought you’d actually wear it.”

“Well, you know I love to prove you wrong.”

“It is your favorite pastime,” I murmured, but I was done joking once I hooked my hands in the bend of her hips, brushing the soft rounds of her cheeks against my throbbing cock.

We both inhaled a breath, Gemma’s eyes rolling backward at the touch.

“We shouldn’t start with this position,” I warned, running my index and middle finger down between her cheeks. I groaned again when I felt how wet she was at her center, and I slipped the tips of both fingers in at once, warming her up. “Flip over, let me go down on you, let me get you close.”

“Do you not feel that?” she husked, arching her back and pushing her pussy down onto my fingers so I filled her more. “I’ve wanted you all day, Zach. I’m close already.”

“Fuck,” I growled as she lowered down more, sucking my fingers inside her without me even moving an inch. She lifted her hips and brought them down again, fucking my fingers as her head dropped back, pigtails falling over her shoulders.

“Please, Zach,” she begged, her voice between a whisper and a plea. “Fuck me.”

Her entire body convulsed when I pulled my fingers out, and in the next second I yanked my jeans from the floor, flipping open my wallet and pulling out the condom I’d stashed in there earlier. I tore open the packaging and rolled it on, and then I was behind her again, erection pressed against her ass.

“Not as shy with that uniform on,” I mused, running my head between her cheeks.