Page 69 of Twisted Little Game

You made me hard when you touched me. I might still be hard.

Poor Tate, with his pretty, hard dick. Going to come for me?

A couple of minutes later, I get a clear picture of his dick in his fist, dripping with cum.

Just did in the downstairs bathroom. Your fault.

He sends me a kiss print emoji, and I set my phone down, stroking my cock until I come so hard it hits one of the posts of my bed.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Tate’s cock since the night in the garden… and the first time I’ve told him to come for me since then, too.

It wasn’t a fluke.

I still want it… even worse now.

Much later that night, I almost get up and sleep in my bed with him, instead of on the floor.

But that’s not just sex.

It’s relationship stuff… and that’s not what this is.

My life is not one that’s compatible with his. Or any normal person’s. Even if he’s making my mind crazy, I have to remember that.

10

Tate

“Push yourself,” Roman demands in a low tone, way too fucking close to my face. “Push harder. You’re stronger than that. Now show me.”

I let out a guttural protest as I press my feet down hard on the bottom of the hack squat machine, every inch of my legs feeling like molten fire from the strain.

“Fuck this,” I hiss.

We’ve been in the gym for over an hour, and while most of Roman’s gym session was a breeze for me, he saved the machine from the absolute depths of hell for last.

“No. One more,” he barks at me.

“Can’t fucking do it⁠—”

“One more, Tate.”

I groan as I go for another rep and my quads and glutes scream with the exertion. My heart slams in my chest as I push through and powerfully force my body up in the machine, using every last goddamn muscle in my legs.

“Holyfuckingshit,” I whisper as I reach the apex and then push out of the machine, leaning over to catch my breath.

“That’s how you fucking do it,” Roman says, and his giant mitt of a hand lands on my shoulder, giving it an encouraging grip.

I breathe deeply. “I hate you.”

“So hate me. I’m making you stronger. Now that your awful form is fixed maybe you can get close to my weight on the machine⁠—”

I reach out and smack his ass hard, and he catches my wrist and shoves my arm back. I lean backward, gulping down air, smiling at him.

He gives me a wicked, hungry smile, still clutching my wrist as he body blocks me.

My cock throbs at that look, even now, while my whole body feels like it’s about to give out from under me.

He’s been looking at me like that multiple times this week, and each time I swear he’s about to grab me and swallow me whole. He really is like an animal, sometimes, and I love it when I get his cold exterior to break.