Fair Game (The Rules #1)

  Shit.

  His upper lip is thinner but not by much, and at this very moment, his mouth is formed into this sexy pout that’s not really a pout at all but I don’t know how else to describe it. All I know is I like it. Memories fly at me, one after another. When he kissed me against the door. On his bed. In his car. His taste. The way he touched me, the things he said…

  I’m regretting what I said to him. Rules were made to be broken, right?

  Right?

  “I’m having second thoughts,” I murmur, my gaze still locked on his mouth.

  He raises his brows. “About what?”

  “About those rules I established. Though really…they can’t be helped.” I pause, feeling awkward. How do I broach the subject of my period? I’m thinking he must be a mind reader. Buying me coffee, giving me a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream, then staying away for a few minutes while I devoured it all…he must know. Or have a suspicion.

  “I know what you’re referring to. And…I get it.” His voice is low, so incredibly deep that I can feel it vibrating within me.

  Oh God, I really love his voice, and the fact that he’s making this so easy on me. I feel like such a dork and I seriously don’t get what he sees in me. What he wants from me.

  But I’m running with this. I’m sick of fighting it. He’s persistent and I’m giving in. As much as I can, due to the circumstances.

  “You get it?” I ask. More like squeak.

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  Hope lights a tiny flame deep within me. This guy blows my mind. He’s nothing like what I thought he’d be. “Okay. So maybe we could just…make out instead.”

  His eyebrows go up even further. “Make out?”

  I nod, liking the spark in his gaze. “You know, kiss. Where it leads to nothing else but…kissing. For hours.” My favorite thing in the whole wide world, where there are no expectations beyond kissing.

  “You want to kiss me for hours.” He appears perplexed, which is a good look for him, no doubt, but still. He also seems surprised that I’d suggest such a thing.

  “Sure.” I’m starting to feel like maybe this wasn’t a good suggestion. He’s staring at me like I’m crazy. I’m starting to feel a little crazy and I blame him. He could have any girl he wants. Could be with any girl he chooses and she’d drop her panties for him so quickly his head would spin.

  And then he’d get right down to business. He’s a guy who doesn’t waste time. Who knows exactly what to do when he has a willing female in front of him. But I’m not a willing female. I’m willing to take it only so far and that’s probably a disappointment.

  So the fact that pitiful little me is suggesting to him we make out for the night is really just…extremely lame. He’s going to turn me down. He should turn me down, and go to a bar or a party and pick up on some hot drunk chick who’d do whatever he wanted.

  That’s the easy route. I’m the difficult route. The route not worth taking. I stiffen my shoulders, prepare for the blow that I know is coming and when I catch a glimpse of his perfect lips parting, I close my eyes and wait.

  “If we’re going to make out.” He pauses and I crack open my eyes. “For hours.” A shiver runs through me at the pointed look he sends me. “Then I need to do something first.”

  I frown, blinking up at him. “Like what?”

  He rounds the kitchen counter so he’s standing beside me, towering over me really. He’s so tall. And broad. I want to climb him like a mountain. I have climbed him like a mountain and had a great time doing it too. “Stand up,” he commands quietly.

  Without protest I do as he says, surprised at myself. Usually I’d offer a flippant remark. Maybe tell him to go fuck himself. But I’m too curious to see what he wants from me. Too excited at the prospect that in mere minutes, I’ll be in his arms, kissing him.

  Shep steps closer and settles his hands at my waist. His head is bent, as if he’s staring down the length of my body and I want to shrink into myself. Disappear. Do I meet his approval? Not that I need it but I want him to be attracted to me. I want him to find me attractive.

  Or is he actually seeing me—the real me—for the first time and realizing that maybe he doesn’t like me after all? With the old T-shirt and leggings, my chipped nail polish and ratty flip flops, I can’t hardly blame him. I’m sure the girls he’s normally drawn to are perfectly put together. Beautiful and smart and flawless.

  I know deep down inside I’m none of those things.

  My heart is racing and I exhale on a shuddery breath, my stomach clenching with nerves. What does he want from me? What will he say? Oh my God, what is he doing…?

  He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and settles me on the edge of the counter, kicking away the barstool I was sitting on only moments before. When he steps forward, I have no choice but to spread my legs so he’s standing in between them. I keep my head bent though I can see him as he reaches out and grabs hold of the end of my braid.

  And slowly pulls the band off, setting it on the counter.

  “I don’t know what I like most about you,” he says conversationally as he methodically begins to undo my braid. His fingers sift through my hair, gently tugging and pulling, and it feels so good that my eyelids waver. Unable to help myself, I lean into him. “Your hair, your freckles or that fucking mouth of yours.”

  I say nothing. The ability to speak has left me completely. The way he’s touching me, the words he’s saying…I’m undone. No other guy has ever had the ability to make me feel the way Shep does with only a few choice words and seemingly innocent touches.

  No one.

  My hair falls in heavy waves around my face, past my shoulders and then he’s smoothing it out, untangling it with his fingers and I want to die from bliss. Nothing feels better than someone playing with my hair.

  And when that someone is Shep? It’s like pleasure overload. If I were a cat, I’d be purring and rubbing against him. Maybe even writhing around on my back, begging for more.

  “I don’t like it when you pull your hair back or put it up,” he says, his voice this low, velvety whisper that washes over me, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “It shouldn’t be restrained. I like seeing it wild.”

  He cups my cheeks with his hands and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. He studies me with those mysterious eyes, his expression serious, all traces of Shep the joker, Shep the charmer, gone. “I want to count your freckles.”

  I’m frowning again. Is he for real? “That’ll take all day.”

  His smile is faint, just a curve of lips, nothing else. “That’s the plan. You have so many. One in particular drives me crazy.”

  I suck in a deep breath when he leans in close and presses his lips to the farthest left corner of my mouth. “This one on your lip,” he whispers, kissing me again at the same exact spot. His lips are so soft it’s like I can barely feel them touching mine. “Right there.”

  Never in my life have I loved my freckles more. “I hated them when I was a kid.”

  “I love them,” he says without hesitation. “And I love this mouth of yours too.” Another kiss. Tentative. Sweet. He’s saying the word love so casually and I don’t know what to make of that. “For all the sarcastic things you say.” He shifts, his mouth covering mine fully now, and his lips cling. “For the way you taste.” He draws my lower lip between his and sucks gently, making me whimper. I think he already knows how much I like that. “I fucking dream about these lips, Jade.”

  “Y-you do?” I close my eyes when he kisses me deeper, his tongue darting against mine, retreating like a tease. Returning like a promise.

  He pulls away from my mouth and I open my eyes to find him studying me, his gaze glittering. “Yeah.” His voice is more whisper than words—deep and dark and pulling me in, pulling me closer. I settle my hands at his sides, gathering the fabric of his T-shirt between my fingers. I’m fearful that if I don’t hold on, I might slip right off the counter. “More than once I’ve dreamed that you
’re…I shouldn’t say it.”

  People who do that sort of thing make me insane. I grip his T-shirt harder, tighter. “Tell me.”

  He shakes his head, his thumbs streaking across my cheeks. “You’ll get mad.”

  I can only imagine what he’s about to say. “Shep…”

  His smile fades. “You never say my name enough.”

  “Tell me what you dream about and I’ll say it so much you’ll want me to shut up.”

  He laughs. God, I love his laugh. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

  “I won’t get mad,” I immediately say.

  “Promise.” He gives my face a gentle shake. “And say my name again.”

  “I promise. Shep,” I whisper, tingles sweeping over my skin when he studies my mouth intently before returning his gaze to mine.

  He exhales loudly and presses his lips together. “You’re going to hate this.”

  “I probably won’t.” I’m sure I will, but I must know. I have to know what I do to him in his dreams.

  “Oh, you probably will.” Another exhale before he tilts my head up as he leans his down. Our mouths are so close I can feel his warm breath waft across my face and I want more. It doesn’t matter that he’s about to say something incredibly offensive. More like it’ll just turn me on, I’m sure. Maybe there’s something to what Kelli said, about being hornier when you’re on your period. I’m starting to firmly believe it. I’m on fire for Shep and I’ve never felt this way about a guy ever. “I’ve dreamed of you on your knees in front of me.”

  My lips part on the softest gasp at his words and I swear his eyes go even darker. “Go on,” I whisper.

  Shep doesn’t even hesitate. “And you’re giving me the most unforgettable blowjob of my life.” He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “And I warn you to stop, that I’m going to come in your mouth but you don’t stop.”

  I can see it. Oh God, I can actually see this happening and I have never been a fan of giving blowjobs. But with Shep…I think I’d get off on him getting off.

  My cheeks warm at the mere thought.

  “Wh-what happens next?” I clear my throat, my eyes fluttering closed when he touches his mouth to mine in the barest kiss.

  “You keep going,” he murmurs against my lips. “And I can’t stop watching you. Your hair is…everywhere. And your face is flushed and those pretty eyes of yours are wide as you stare up at me.” He releases his hold on my cheeks and nuzzles my face with his, his mouth at my ear when he whispers, “You lick the tip of my cock with your tongue, then wrap those fucking sexy lips around just the head and that’s it. I’m coming. And you don’t move, you don’t pull away. You just take it, swallow every bit of me and then…” His words trail off and all I can hear is his accelerated breathing and mine. I want more. I need to hear what happens next.

  “And then what?” My voice is hoarse and shaky. I’m trembling. He’s so warm and solid and I cling to him, my hands falling to the waistband of his shorts, my fingers slipping just beneath to feel hard, hot skin.

  “And then I wake up.”

  I should’ve never told Jade about the blowjob dream. One of the best dreams in recent memory, to be sure, but now she might think I’m not so subtly asking for one and I’m not.

  Not yet, in any case. Though it’ll happen, mark my words. It’ll happen and I’ll probably fucking blow my wad at first touch of those magical Jade lips on the tip of my dick after all the dreams and fantasies I’ve had about them, but it’ll be worth it.

  So fucking worth it.

  She’s trembling. I can feel her shaky fingers as they dip beneath the waistband of my shorts and just her hands touching me so innocently have me sucking in a deep breath as I mentally tell my dick to calm down. I can’t begin to express just how disappointed I am we can’t take this any further tonight.

  Wasn’t I the one who said there’s something to be said for anticipation? That night when I refused to kiss her because she was drunk? I was trying to be noble. Respectful. Two words no one would use to describe me.

  I’m a total asshole for even uttering the word anticipation, for believing it’s a good thing. Anticipation fucking sucks.

  “Come here.” I don’t give her a chance to answer or do anything. I take over, grabbing her ass and hauling her into me, her body flush with mine. She tips her head back, our gazes meet and I stare at her, fascinated with her pretty face. I notice something different every time I look at her and this moment is no exception. “Your eyelashes are red, like your hair,” I tell her, like she doesn’t know.

  She tears her gaze away from mine. “Usually I have mascara on to darken them.”

  “But you’re not wearing any makeup.” I touch the side of her face, the tip of her nose. Her skin is pale, the freckles like little flecks of cinnamon across her flesh and I drag my thumb across her plump bottom lip, liking how it catches right in the center.

  “Half the reason why I was so mortified to run into you. No makeup. Sloppy hair,” she admits. “I’m wearing my oldest, most favorite T-shirt and ratty leggings. I’m a mess.”

  “I noticed the holes.” I touch the one at the neckline of her shirt, then decide the hell with it and touch the one that’s just beneath her boob, my finger brushing against her ample chest. I am fucking dying to get a look at her tits naked. Does this make me an asshole? Probably, but I don’t care. Not at the moment. “You’re not a mess, Jade. I like you like this. You look…real.”

  “Opposed to me looking fake all the other times we’ve seen each other?”

  Ah, there’s my sarcastic girl. That smart mouth of hers is such a fucking turn on. There’s gotta be something wrong with me, that I like it so much. “I didn’t say that. Honestly? Seeing you like this makes my imagination run wild.”

  Her brows draw together. How did I never notice they’re red too? Well, more like a deep auburn color. Very dark and perfectly arched. “How?”

  I think I’m trying to seduce her with words. Not like I planned this but since we’re not going to do anything tonight, I should at least talk about it, right? What I want to do to her. With her. What I want her to do to me. With me. How I want to see her naked and flushed and moaning my name all while I’m buried deep inside her. I want to know what she looks like when she comes.

  Yeah. More than anything, that’s what I’m dying to see.

  “I imagine this is what you’d look like in my bed after you spent the night.” I push away the little tendrils of hair that curl around her cheeks. “No makeup, no pretense. Just you.”

  Her lips part and she blinks up at me. “Kiss me. Before you say something awful and ruin it,” she whispers, her eyes falling shut when I lean in and do exactly as she asks. Her arms move so they’re wrapped around my neck and I grip her ass harder, pulling her in as close as I can get. I take the kiss deep in an instant, thrusting my tongue against hers, swallowing the moan that escapes her.

  Christ, she tastes good. Sweet and seductive. She scoots closer to me, her legs clamping tight along my hips and I keep one hand on her ass, with the other I reach up and touch her cheek, tilt her face to the side to deepen the kiss further. She whimpers and I draw her lower lip between mine and suck—I know she likes it when I do that.

  “You make me crazy,” I murmur against her mouth when I release her lip. “I’d fuck you right here on the kitchen counter if you’d let me.”

  “Oh God,” she says on a gasp. “Say that again.”

  “Say what again?” I drop kisses along her jaw, down the length of her neck, moving her heavy hair behind her shoulder so I can kiss the spot behind her ear. “You’re always accusing me of saying something to mess it up.”

  “Just…repeat what you said. What you want to do to me if I’d let you.” She swallows hard, I feel the movement beneath my lips and I pause there, knowing exactly what she wants me to say.

  Does this mean Jade likes dirty talk? Who fucking knew?

  “I said, that if you’d let me.” I press my mouth
to the spot where her pulse thumps erratically, inhaling her heady scent, humming against her skin. This is like torture. Touching her. Kissing her. Talking to her, all while not able to do exactly what I want to her. “I’d fuck you right here on this kitchen counter.”

  “God, this is absolute torture,” she whispers as I continue to kiss her neck. She’s reading my mind. “I should…probably go.”

  Everything within me skids to a stop at her words. “Hell no,” I practically growl, lifting my head so I can stare at her. “You’re not leaving.”

  “We can’t—” She whimpers when I nibble on her earlobe. “But we can’t do anything.”

  “We’re making out,” I remind her as I pull away from her fragrant neck. “Tristan’s gone tonight. He won’t get home until late. So we have the entire house to ourselves.” I wish I could fuck her on every available surface but since that’s not happening, we’ll have to make plans to do it another night.

  That I’m thinking of future nights with Jade is freaking unbelievable.

  “Your cousin is gone?” She sounds hopeful.

  “Yeah.” I brush my thumb back and forth across her ass, tracing the band of her panties beneath her leggings. Teasing is fun right? I might come close to giving myself a heart attack and a massive case of blue balls by the end of the night but I’ll survive.

  Barely.

  “So it’s just us.” She trails her hand down the front of my T-shirt, her nails lightly grazing and my dick twitches. Well, it’s been twitching for a while but I want her hands on my bare skin. This clothes on business is for the birds.

  “Just us.” I kiss her once, then slip both of my hands under her ass, indicating that I want to pick her up. She grabs hold of my shoulders, her shocked gaze meeting mine. “Come on.” I heft her up into my arms and turn, heading toward the living room.

  “How is it that you’re able to carry me so easily?” she asks in wonder.

  “You don’t weigh that much.”

  She snorts. Actually snorts. It’s kind of cute. “You don’t need to lie to keep me here. I’m sort of trapped and at your mercy.”