Page 82 of Playing to Win
“I missed you,” he murmurs, just before he dips his head and nuzzles my neck with his nose.
I close my eyes, my mouth falling open at that first contact of his skin on mine. The fact he admitted that he missed me. I would’ve never said that out loud. I still haven’t. But he confessed his feelings without hesitation and I…
I love that.
“We’ve seen each other almost every day,” I remind him, setting my hands on his very broad, very hard shoulders.
“It’s not the same as touching you.” His lips move against my neck, a shuddery breath escaping me. “Having you close to me.”
His hands slide upwards, along my rib cage, pausing right under my breasts, his thumbs pressing into my skin. As usual, I’m not wearing a bra. I hate them and he knows it and he doesn’t even hesitate.
Within seconds, he’s fully cupping them, kneading my flesh, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across my nipples, making me want to cry out. Instead, I bite my lower lip, a soft moan sounding from behind my teeth when he drags his hot, wet mouth down my neck.
“You feel so good, Red. It’s been way too long,” he mutters against my cheek, kissing me there. It’s a sweet gesture, yet there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s touching me. His hot body pressed against mine, his knee nudging between my legs. I spread my thighs, allowing him access, and the next thing I know, his mouth is hovering above mine, his knee pushed firmly against that needy spot between my thighs, making me see stars.
Already. That’s all it takes. A few rushed minutes in a bathroom stall and I’m on the edge of coming.
“We need to make this quick,” he whispers against my lips. “Someone might catch us.”
I would die if someone caught us. I would also die if he decides to put a stop to the hottest encounter of my life.
“Let’s make it quick then,” I encourage, my voice soft. I run my hands down his chest slowly, savoring the hard muscles beneath his smooth, hot skin. His body is absolute perfection and if I could, I’d yank his shirt up and stare at him for a little bit.
But I don’t think we have enough time.
He slips his hands down to my ass, lifting me up and I go with him, my legs wrapping around him as I tilt my hips forward, brushing against the bulge in his jeans. He’s hard and huge and I wrap my arms around his neck, my mouth finding his.
The kiss is instantly hot. A tangle of tongues and clash of teeth. Wet, greedy lips and warm puffs of air. He groans. I whimper. He slides his fingers in my hair, curling it around his fist. I shove my hands in his hair and tug, making him growl.
The sound leaves me weak and I’m grateful he’s got me pinned against the door or else I’d probably be on the floor.
We kiss and kiss, until my jaw aches and my lips feel raw. He’s thrusting against me, nice and slow, driving me out of my mind and when the bathroom door suddenly slams open, a bunch of giggly women entering the room, Ace goes still.
I crack my eyes open to find him watching me. He shifts away from me, our gazes still connected, his hand settling over my mouth, fingers clamping tightly to silence me.
A whimper sounds beneath his hand and his expression becomes stern. I can practically read in his gaze that he’s telling me to be quiet. I must be really fucked up because I can’t stop thinking how sexy this is. How he’s got his hand over my mouth and his knee pressed against the seam of my jeans. He applies more pressure, making my clit pulsate, and I close my eyes, lost to the sensations this gorgeous, dominating man is giving me.
I feel him lean in close, his cheek pressed to mine as he whispers in my ear, “You’re being too noisy.”
I say nothing in response as he pulls away from me slightly. His hand still covers my mouth, his knee still firmly against my crotch, his other hand resting on my side, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my cropped shirt. He surrounds me, leaving me breathless and dizzy and filled with the need to consume him just like he consumes me.
God this man. He’s overwhelming in the absolute best way.
The women are chatting so loudly, it sounds like there are at least twenty of them in the room, though it’s probably not even ten. A few of them enter the stalls. Others remain at the sinks, checking themselves in the mirror, I’m sure. Applying lipstick and gossiping about the night.
“Saw Ace here,” one of them says.
Ace’s gaze turns amused. A little curious.
“He’s so hot,” another one adds.
“He rejected me,” says yet another one.
Ace’s eyebrows shoot up at that statement.
“Girl, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“That’s what I thought. He’ll regret turning me down.”
