Page 29 of Trick or Tease

SAbrINA

I couldn’t help but grin at his shocked expression. The man had been teasing me all day with stolen kisses and heated looks, and now he was acting surprised that I wanted him?

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he said, his voice rough with want.

But instead of immediately giving me what I’d asked for, he slowed everything down. His hands moved to frame my face, thumbs stroking along my cheekbones as he studied me in the flickering lantern light.

“We have time,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “All the time in the world.”

His lips found mine then, but this kiss was different from the desperate hunger we’d shared this morning. This was slow, thorough, like he was savoring every second. His tongue traced the seam of my lips before slipping inside. I melted against him with a soft sigh.

I could taste the beer on his tongue, could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest where we were pressed together.

Everything about this moment felt perfect.

I didn’t care that we were in a spooky house.

The golden glow of the lanterns softened the spookiness instead of making it worse.

I loved the way his hands were gentle as they roamed my back in the complete privacy of our makeshift hideaway.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out I dreamed all of this.”

“Not a dream,” I assured him, my hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Very real.”

He kissed me again, deeper this time but still with that maddening slowness. Like we were teenagers sharing a first tentative kiss. His hands found the hem of my shirt, fingers skimming along the bare skin of my lower back.

I arched into his touch, wanting more. “Garrett.”

“Mmm?” He was kissing along my jaw now, finding that sensitive spot just below my ear that made me shiver.

I groaned and tilted my head to the side. “Less talking, more touching,” I managed to say, though my brain was getting fuzzy from the way his lips were working against my skin.

The man and his tongue were dangerous.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Patience, sweetheart. I want to take my time with you.”

His hands slipped under my shirt, palms warm against my ribs as he slowly pushed the fabric up. I raised my arms to help him pull it over my head.

“God,” he breathed, his eyes dark as they roamed over me. “You’re perfect.”

I felt beautiful under his gaze, desired in a way that made my whole body hum with anticipation. He leaned down and kissed my nipple through the lace. The contrast between heat and rough lace sent shivers up and down my spine.

“I love the sounds you make,” he murmured, lowering his head to take one peak into his mouth.

My knees nearly buckled at the sensation. I gripped his shoulders for support, my head falling back as he lavished attention on my breasts. He seemed content to stay there forever, alternating between gentle suction and teasing flicks of his tongue that had me writhing against him.

“Your turn,” I said breathlessly, tugging at his shirt.

He straightened up long enough for me to pull the Henley over his head, revealing the broad chest and defined abs that had been driving me crazy all day. I ran my hands over his skin, feeling the muscles jump under my touch.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you chopping wood yesterday,” I admitted, pressing kisses along his collarbone.

“Is that so?” His voice was strained.

“Mmm-hmm. Very distracting.” I worked my way across his chest, tasting salt and something uniquely him. “I kept losing track of what I was supposed to be doing.”

His hands fisted in my hair as I continued my exploration. I could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against me through our jeans. The knowledge that I was affecting him just as much as he was affecting me sent heat pooling low in my belly.

He backed me up against the wall, his body caging me in, and I could feel every hard plane of him pressed against me.

“Sabrina,” he groaned against my neck, his hips rocking forward involuntarily.

My fingers went to the button of his jeans. I was going to enjoy every inch of the man.

I worked the button free and slowly lowered his zipper, my eyes locked on his face. His breathing was ragged, his pupils dilated.

I was going to make it very difficult for him to walk away from me. I pushed his jeans down his hips, taking his boxers with them. He stepped out of them, completely bare before me in the flickering lantern light. My breath caught at the sight of him, aroused and ready.

My hand stroked over his hard length. He groaned and bucked his hips.

I sank to my knees on the dusty floor, looking up at him through my lashes. His jaw was clenched tight, his hands fisted at his sides like he was fighting for control.

“Sabrina,” he said roughly, his hands gripping my shoulders. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” I interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about this all day too.”

His eyes closed and his head dropped back.

“Look at me,” I whispered, wrapping my hand around him.

His eyes snapped to mine, dark and intense. I held his gaze as I leaned forward. I ran my tongue over the head and then slowly down the entire length of him.

I could see him holding his breath.

I took him into my mouth, savoring the way his breath hissed out between his teeth as I pulled him all the way in. I relaxed my throat and sucked.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand coming up to tangle gently in my hair. “Sabrina.”

I took my time, exploring him with my tongue, learning what made him gasp and curse under his breath. His hips jerked forward involuntarily when I found a particularly sensitive spot. I smiled around him.

“You’re going to kill me,” he panted, his voice strained.

I pulled back just enough to speak. “That’s the idea.”

His laugh turned into a moan as I took him deeper, my hands gripping his thighs for leverage. The sounds he was making and the way his body was responding to me were intoxicating. I felt powerful, desired, completely in control.

“I’m close,” he warned, his grip tightening in my hair. “Sabrina, I’m?—”

I didn’t pull away. I wanted all of him, wanted to give him this pleasure. When he came apart with a broken curse, I stayed with him through every shudder, every tremor that ran through his body.

Afterward, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me deeply, his hands framing my face like I was something precious.

“That was incredible,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re incredible.”

I smiled, feeling satisfied and proud. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His eyes darkened again. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you either.”

The man was suddenly ravenous. He reached behind me and unhooked my bra. He dropped it to the floor before he dove between my breasts. Thankfully, the floor was relatively clean.

His hands cupped my breasts, gently massaging and squeezing while his tongue and teeth attacked my nipples.

“I need more hands,” he murmured. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

He dropped one hand to the button on my jeans and flicked it open. My zipper was jerked down. He didn’t even get my jeans pushed down before his fingers pulled my panties out of his way.

“You’re wet,” he groaned.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day,” I murmured.

His fingers slipped between my legs, finding me slick and ready. I gasped at the contact, my hips bucking forward into his touch.

“So responsive,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers began a slow, torturous rhythm. “I love watching you come apart.”

I gripped his shoulders for support, my legs already trembling from his touch. He seemed to know exactly where to touch me, how much pressure to apply to drive me wild without pushing me over the edge.

“Garrett, please,” I breathed, my head falling back against the wall.

“Please what?” he asked, his voice teasing as he slowed his movements even further.

“Don’t tease me,” I managed, though part of me was loving every second of this sweet torture.

He chuckled low in his throat. “But you’re so beautiful when you’re desperate for me.”

His thumb found my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make me cry out. Then he pulled away completely, leaving me aching and empty.

“Patience,” he said, echoing his earlier words as he reached for my jeans and slowly began working them down my hips.

I wanted to scream with frustration, but I also couldn’t deny how much I was enjoying this slower pace.

This morning had been all desperate hunger and urgent need.

This felt different, like he was memorizing every inch of my skin, cataloging every sound I made.

He was learning my body. Studying me like he was preparing for a test.

When my jeans hit the floor, he knelt before me, pressing soft kisses along my thighs. I threaded my fingers through his hair, trying to guide him where I needed him most, but he resisted.

“Not yet,” he said against my skin, his hands stroking up and down my legs. “I want to drive you as crazy as you’ve been driving me all day.”

His lips moved higher, placing feather-light kisses everywhere except where I was aching for him. I was practically vibrating with need, my breath coming in short gasps.

“You’ve been torturing me too,” I pointed out, my voice shaky. “You keep looking at me like you’re picturing me naked.”

“Good,” he said. “I wanted you thinking about me.”

My hands slid through his hair. He kissed the top of my thigh and then the other. I leaned back and closed my eyes. He kissed the inside of my thigh with his fingers brushing over my core.

I hear a board creak in the hall and froze. I didn’t actually believe in ghosts, but it was definitely a noise. A noise that did not belong.

I pushed at his head. “Wait?” I hissed.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

I hushed him. “Did you hear that?”

“My head is between your thighs,” he replied. “Only thing I can hear is the singing of angels.”

I put my finger to my lips. There was definitely a creaking noise.

Garrett looked at me and got to his feet. “I heard that .”

“What are the chances it’s your great grandfather?” I whispered.

He smirked. “I doubt we’re that lucky. Let’s find our pants.”

We scrambled to put our clothes on.

The doorknob rattled. “Who’s in there?” Lucy asked.

We both stopped moving.

I looked at Garrett and shook my head once. He got the message.

“It’s me,” I said. “I’m working. The, um, the window decorations.”

“I kept texting you and you wouldn’t answer,” Lucy said. “I got worried. Why is this door locked? Are you locked in there?”

“Um, poltergeists?” I offered.

“Oh my god.” Lucy giggled. “Okay, I get it. Do you need me to get an exorcist or are you all good in there?”

“All good,” I said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“You’re damn right we will. Night, Garrett.”

“Night,” he said.

Lucy laughed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I could hear her footsteps going down the hall and then down the stairs.

We collapsed against each other.

“That was embarrassing,” I groaned.

“Poltergeists, really?” Garrett said.

“I panicked.”

He gave me a look and shook his head.

“I didn’t hear you chime in,” I muttered.

“Take off the jeans,” he said.

“What?”

“She’s gone and I’m not finished. Take off your jeans.”