Page 15 of The Killing Game

HA.

He wishes.

I have my own games to play and they have only just begun.

“Well, then,” I mumble to myself. “Game on, Jason. Game fucking on.”

NINE

7:47 P.M.

The delicious aroma of burgers cooking on a charcoal grill is undeniable as I finish up in my room. I check my phone before plugging it into the charger. It’s almost 8:00 p.m. Late dinner is always a custom during our weekend getaways. There’s no better feeling than winding down with the sunset while Colton cooks his famous burgers. Sam usually whips up her fancy herbal cocktails that she swears gives her the best night’s sleep. Jason is always up to his usual antics, providing the comedic relief. We can sit outside for hours reminiscing about the good times until the stars come out. It’s the thing I cherish the most about these trips.

I finish getting dressed after my very impromptu foreplay session. The note Jason wrote me before his unexpected appearance sits next to my phone on the nightstand. Red ink teases me as a reminder of other memories that could be made this weekend. I close my eyes, counting my breathing again.

One, two, three; out.

Two, two, three; out.

Three, two, three; out.

I open them expecting to feel calmer. I don’t. Annoyance simmers just under my skin. I can’t forgive myself for allowing Jason to get to me so easily. Fuck that. Instead of denying the inevitable, I’m going to get on top of it. Well, on top of him.

I open my door and step into the hallway to head downstairs. The lights are off as I descend down the stairs, a gentle glow rises up from the first floor. I know not to linger for too long or the group will wonder where I’m at. Even worse, Jason might tell them what happened between us moments ago. The faint warmness of his body still lingers, the sweet tingle of release radiates from my core despite the growing irritation. I distinctly remember him saying he wouldn’t tell. However, at this point, I can’t predict what he’ll do anymore.

As I pass the wall of sliding glass doors that lead to the deck, I spy Colton manning the grill. He’s on the phone while he flips the patties absentmindedly. I can’t make out who he’s talking to, but his face is scrunched into a grimace. His muscles are tense under the gray t-shirt that sits taught against his body. It must be something serious to get Colton worked up during a vacation trip. I send a prayer to the universe hoping that it’s nothing to do with his new football contract.

Laughter spills from the entryway to the kitchen. I grin. I know Sam’s boisterous laugh better than anyone. It’s reassuring to know the debacle with the mask didn’t damper her spirits. Out of everyone, she’s the most sensitive and I love her for it. Not that she needs protecting, she can hold her own. There were plenty of times growing up that Sam would end the fight that my loud mouth ultimately started. Sam might be small, but she is mighty. May the gods have mercy on anyone who crosses paths with her protecting the ones she loves.

My thoughts are cut short when I spot Jason leaning against the counter. My eyes linger too long over his muscular frame. He’s changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy, black t-shirt. I find myself especially distracted by the way the sweatpants hug the best part of him. A not so subtle outline of his dick teases me from across the room. The sight of him goes straight to my midsection. I might as well go change because I’m dripping wet again.

Carnal need rises from deep inside. I push it down, locking it away in the time-out cage I envision in my mind.

I came down here ready for war. It appears Jason was two steps ahead of me.

Jason catches my ogling. His lips turn up into the most mischievous, shit-eating grin. As if on cue, he reaches his arms over his head to stretch. His shirt lifts enough for me to see the faint outline of a V at the hem of his pants.

I gasp. Audibly. Like an idiot. His eyes dart back to mine and raises his eyebrows in my direction.

He doesn’t break his conversation with Sam. She’s completely oblivious to this interaction or the fact that I’m here. When she turns around, she doesn’t even mention the fact that Jason looks like the physical embodiment of every girl’s book boyfriend.

“Oh, you’re back! Dinner is almost ready. Colton is making burgers while Jason helps me prep the sides. Are you thirsty?”

I shrug my shoulders. If I’m going to make this cat and mouse game work in my favor, I need to act natural.

“I am, but I think I need something a little stronger before I have one of your infamous tinctures,” I say, making my way around the island to the liquor cabinet. The frosted bottle of rum beckons to me. Another dark and stormy should do the trick.

I grunt as I reach to the top shelf for a copper mug.

Dark and stormy. How ironic that my favorite drink now describes my sex life.

“Ashe, I know you love your rum, but you should really have an elderberry spritzer instead if you want to avoid a hangover tomorrow,” Sam chastises as I finish mixing my drink, careful to only do a half pour of the liquor. I can still drink and keep my wits about me.

I turn around with the copper mug in hand.

“Sam, I will do whatever detox you whip up for me after this trip. I promise. Right now, I really just need to clear my head.”

Sam rolls her eyes at me before turning back to the salad she was preparing.