Wicked Games: A Forbidden Romance

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Wicked Games: A Forbidden Romance Page 7

by T. K. Leigh


  A few minutes later, Lincoln had to roll after he couldn’t come up with something in enough time. Lucky him. He had to blow on Asher’s chest. Things started to heat up a little when Asher had to bite Izzy’s ear. The instant his teeth clamped onto her lobe, her face flushed and lips parted as her eyes fluttered closed. She can insist they’re just friends all she wants. There’s more going on.

  Doing my best to push down the nervous flutter in my stomach, I reach for the dice and toss them onto the coffee table. They teeter on their edges before falling over, landing on SUCK and TONGUE.

  A chorus of “whoa” and a few whistles fill the night sky as I swallow hard.

  “Looks like things are about to get very interesting,” Izzy comments.

  “I suppose they are.” I grab the bottle and give it a spin. Now I know how contestants on The Price is Right must feel when they spin the wheel, trying to get as close to a dollar as they can without going over. The anticipation and tightening in their body as it nears that magical number, then the despair when it lands on a nickel. I wonder if Lincoln is my dollar, or if he’s simply a nickel and I should spin again.

  The seconds seem to stretch as the bottle takes a few more turns around the circle, each journey getting slower and slower until it gradually bypasses Asher, then stops close to Lincoln, which causes Izzy to whistle.

  With all the confidence I’ve found sexy since the beginning, he leans back, draping an arm along the back of the couch.

  “You can use your pass if you want,” he says flirtatiously, raking his gaze over my body before zeroing in on my lips. “I’ll understand.”

  “Rules are rules,” I reply in a throaty voice, batting my lashes. “Plus, I’d rather save my pass for when I have to suck on Izzy’s chest.”

  Both men groan. I can’t help but laugh. What is it about two girls together that always seems to force men to revert to hormone-crazed teenagers?

  “Please don’t,” Asher begs. “Use your pass if you have to touch her ear, but not that. Anything but that.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. But for now…” Smiling a coy smile, I turn to Lincoln, crawling across the couch and into his lap, my legs straddling him. He stiffens beneath me, jaw clenching, eyes darkening as they remain focused on me. Inching my mouth toward his, I murmur, “I believe the dice have spoken.”

  “I believe they have.”

  “And that red flag that was being waved earlier?”

  “It’s green, baby.” He brings his hand to my head, digging his fingers into my scalp. “Conditions are very favorable.”

  “I can feel that.”

  Slowly, I erase the last bit of distance between us, pressing my mouth to his. The kiss is soft and reverent at first, neither one of us pushing forward. I can’t, not yet, breathless from the sensation of this first touching of our lips, my body buzzing to life. If this is how I react from an innocent kiss, I shudder to think what will happen when he deepens it.

  As if able to read my thoughts, a groan rips from Lincoln’s throat, his hold on me tightening as he yanks me harder into him. I gasp at the feel of him, how excited he is. He takes advantage of my open mouth and swipes his tongue against mine. Instant fireworks erupt in my stomach, the raw need making me kiss him with more urgency, more desperation, more unsatisfied hunger.

  I grasp at him, subtly circling my hips to relieve some of the pressure building inside me. But I fear nothing will extinguish the match he lit at our first meeting, the spark he’s flamed with each subsequent encounter, so much so that the fire won’t be put out easily. Not anymore.

  He brings his hands to my face, our fevered kiss turning into something sweeter, more ardent, more personal, offering me a different side of him. An unexpected side. He exhales, breathing into me. It’s such a strange thing, feeling another person’s air expand in your lungs, giving you life. I don’t even know this man, but that’s what he’s doing — making me feel alive.

  He sensually caresses my tongue with his, heat curling down my spine as I try to remember the last time a kiss made me feel this. I don’t even know what this is. And for once, I don’t care. I’m just enjoying the moment before our bubble bursts.

  Our motions slowing, I gradually pull back, still resting my lips on his. I don’t want to stop feeling them, tasting them, savoring them. Not yet. His kisses are the sweetest drug and I an addict, wanting to squeeze every last drop I can.

  “Say you want more,” he whispers, his grip on my head keeping me from escaping his demand. I wouldn’t try to escape him even if I could.

  “I want more.”

  A smile slowly curves his mouth. “I want more, too. I want so much more.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Mmm…,” I moan, squirming in my seat. My breathing is labored as I run my hand down my chest and along my stomach. “That’s it. I’ve always wanted someone to blow on my finger.”

  I stop moving, opening my eyes to Lincoln’s and Asher’s disappointed pouts, Izzy’s giggles echoing around us.

  As the night wore on, it’s become increasingly difficult to come up with something original before time’s up, which has resulted in more throwing of the dice and spinning of the bottle. When Izzy spun and it landed on me, Asher’s and Lincoln’s eyes lit up like a kid running downstairs on Christmas morning. But when they looked to the dice and saw all she had to do was blow on my finger, both wore a similar expression, this time of a little kid who was told they’re about to go to Disneyland and end up at the dentist instead.

  “What? Were you hoping for something hotter?” I smirk as Izzy returns to the couch, Asher draping his arm along her shoulders.

  As things got more personal and heated, the sexual tension within our little bubble has become palpable. Where Izzy and Asher once kept some space between them, they’re now practically on top of each other. And Lincoln and I… Well, I’m desperate for another lap around the track. I get the feeling he is, too, considering last time I excused myself to use the bathroom, he waited for me in the hallway, where he proceeded to slam me against the wall, stealing another kiss. But when I attempted to drag him up to my room, he resisted, said we weren’t there yet. If nothing else, the man has incredible restraint. I imagine when we finally do make it to the bedroom, that restraint will make things even more mind-blowing.

  “Honestly, yes,” Asher responds, tearing me out of my hormone-filled thoughts. “We’ve been waiting for one of you to spin the other and it hasn’t happened. When it finally does, all you have to do is blow on her finger? I feel short-changed.”

  “Rules are rules,” Izzy sings. “We can’t just make out because you want us to, hornball.” She playfully jabs him in the stomach. “If you want to see girls make out, go watch a porno.”

  He waggles his brows, giving her a mischievous smirk. “Want to join me?”

  “Maybe later,” she murmurs seductively, inching even closer to his mouth. The raw need I see coming off Asher has me wanting them to kiss, too. I can only imagine the sparks that will fly when they finally do. “Too bad there’s no power. It’s your turn.”

  She abruptly pulls back, leaving Asher momentarily bewildered, and grabs Lincoln’s cell from the table. Opening the timer, she hits START. “Go.”

  Asher takes a beat to compose himself, then says, “Never have I ever taken a sexy selfie.”

  “Nope!” Izzy responds, then imitates an annoying buzzer. “Already asked. Try again.”

  Asher leans his head against the back of the couch. “Never have I ever slept with someone whose name I couldn’t remember the next morning.”

  “Try again!” Izzy shouts once more. For being as buzzed as she is, she has an incredible ability to recall everything that’s been said. Then again, she’s always been ridiculously smart.

  “Shit,” Asher mutters as he licks his lips, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Tick-tock,” Izzy teases.

  “Never have I ever…” He runs his hand through his hair as he struggles to come
up with something.

  “Five seconds,” Lincoln taunts.

  “Never have I ever…,” Asher says again, but still nothing.

  “Four. Three.”

  “Never have I ever…,” he repeats once more.

  We all join in with Lincoln’s countdown, shouting, “Two. One!”

  Izzy grabs the bottle and thrusts it into his hand. “Spin it, baby!”

  He groans in playful irritation as he places the bottle back onto the table. Taking the dice, he rolls as we all lean closer to see under the dim lighting of a few flickering candles and the firepit. When they land on KISS and LIPS, Izzy and I erupt into cheers and whistles.

  “I’m so looking forward to watching you two make out,” I joke, jabbing Lincoln playfully in his side.

  He wraps his arm around my shoulders. The heat of his breath against my neck makes my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather make out with you again,” he murmurs in a barely audible growl that has me involuntarily squeezing my thighs together. “I’d much rather do a lot more than make out.”

  “Like what?”

  He leans closer. “Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”

  I float my eyes to his, closing the gap between us, our breath intermingling. “Maybe I like being bad.”

  “Is that so?”

  I slowly nod, my lips hovering near his. “Oh, baby. You have no idea how bad I can really be.”

  He shifts in his seat, a low groan escaping his throat, just as Izzy says, “Time to spin, Asher.”

  Reminded we’re not alone, we tear away from each other, returning our attention to the game. At first, it thrilled me, the promise of what could happen. Now all I want is to go to my room and have a different kind of game night with Lincoln.

  Asher grabs the bottle and gives it a spin. Every time it closes in on Lincoln, Izzy’s eyes brim with hope.

  As it slows and inches toward me, Lincoln’s hold on me tightens. His reaction to the mere thought of me having to kiss Asher is endearing. Then again, I doubt it will be a problem. He’d use his pass, just like Izzy used hers when she was supposed to suck on Lincoln’s earlobe. I wouldn’t have minded. But we don’t exactly have the same history Izzy and Asher apparently have.

  Finally, the bottle rolls past me and lands on Izzy. She gives him a flirtatious smile. They’ve had to do a few risqué things over the course of the evening, like sucking on an ear or biting a neck, but nothing more than that.

  “Well then…,” he begins smoothly, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he looks her up and down. “I suppose it’s time we finally kiss.”

  His statement momentarily surprises me. I’m not sure what I thought. I guess I assumed they already had.

  “Unless—”

  Before he can say another word, she clutches his cheeks. “I suppose it is.” She lowers her back onto the couch, bringing him on top of her.

  “I suppose it is,” he repeats, brushing his mouth against hers, nipping on her lower lip.

  “The dice says kiss my lips, not bite them.”

  “I know, but I’ve imagined this for years now. I need to take advantage of it while I can, while we’re still in the bubble.”

  Izzy tenses below him. “Years?”

  Asher nods, rubbing his nose against hers. “Yes, Iz. Years.”

  All the tension seems to roll off her as she hooks a leg around his waist, yanking him even tighter against her.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Their kiss starts out simple and innocent, just a light meeting of mouths. But it doesn’t take long for it to become more intense, more heated, more…greedy.

  A finger trails down my neck as I watch them, feeling like a voyeur, but I can’t look away. When Lincoln brushes my hair behind my shoulder, exposing my skin, I crane my head, silently giving him permission to keep touching me. His soft lips feathering against me causes a shiver to roll through me.

  “I don’t recall you rolling the dice,” I whisper.

  I feel his mouth curve into a smile. “It’ll be our little secret.” He brings his hand to my leg, brushing up and down my thigh.

  “Our little secret,” I repeat.

  Glancing across the table to see Asher and Izzy still going at it, oblivious to the world around them, I part my legs, an open invitation for Lincoln to continue.

  His teeth clamp onto my neck and I struggle not to yelp. His hand inches higher and higher, my chest rising and falling in a quicker rhythm. When his fingers ghost against my center, sparks shoot through me. I really wish I hadn’t changed into jeans. If I still had on my bathing suit, this would be even more erotic, if that’s possible.

  “I want you,” he says gruffly.

  I swallow hard, biting back my moan.

  “Do you want me?”

  “Yes…,” I whimper.

  He steals a glimpse to make sure Izzy and Asher are still occupied, which they are. “Here’s what I want you to do. When the two lovebirds break away, you’re going to excuse yourself. Say you’re tired. I’m sure they’ll want to have some privacy themselves. Once they head up, I’ll come to you. Okay?”

  I stare straight ahead as Izzy and Asher’s passionate exchange wanes, their kiss slowly coming to an end.

  Lincoln squeezes my thigh.“Okay?” he asks again, more forceful.

  “Okay,” I answer in a breathy voice.

  “Okay,” he repeats, removing his hand from me, increasing the distance between us.

  A giggle bursts through, and I glance up to see Asher helping a rather flushed Izzy back into a sitting position.

  “Well, that was unexpected.”

  “Hopefully in a good way.” He wraps his arm around her, pulling her close.

  “In an amazing way.” She beams, fanning herself. “Now, I believe it’s Lincoln’s turn. Or is it Chloe’s?”

  “Actually…” I stand up. “I hate to be the one to put an end to game night, but I’m beat. It’s been a long day. And tomorrow will be another long one with heading home, provided the power comes back on.”

  Izzy pouts playfully. “Always the responsible one, aren’t you?”

  “Always.”

  Her expression brightens. “It’s okay. I’ll probably be going to bed soon myself.”

  “Alone?” I lift a brow.

  She bites her lower lip, flicking a mischievous grin to Asher as she squeezes his thigh. “Only time will tell.”

  After saying my goodbyes to Asher, thanking him once more for allowing us to crash here, I start to head inside.

  “Let me walk you,” Lincoln offers, surprising me. This certainly was not part of the plan.

  “I’ll be fine,” I insist.

  “I’m sure you will, but I’d feel better if I walked with you.” The tone of his voice makes it clear that this isn’t up for debate. I actually like the idea of him walking me to my room. I’ve never been with someone who so much as walked me to my Uber or the subway station after a date. Hell, a lot of them couldn’t even be asked to get out of bed to walk me to the door of their apartment.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Okay.” He places his hand on the small of my back, shining the flashlight of his cell in front of us, illuminating our path.

  Once we reach my room, I turn to him, about to thank him, when he advances toward me, pressing me against the wall, his mouth covering mine. Momentarily caught breathless by his sudden invasion, I still. But the shock eventually wanes and I melt into him, grasping his face, needing more of him.

  Lincoln tears his lips from mine, growling like an animal starved for too long. “You’re incredible, Chloe.”

  Throwing my head back, I revel in his unshaven jaw scratching against the flesh of my neck. I scrape my nails down his back, wrapping a leg around him, pulsing against him as he nips at my shoulder. Our heavy and labored breaths fill the silence, every synapse in my body firing.

  His hand roams my frame, his touch needy and reckless. As he reaches my waistband, I inhale a sharp breath, my cor
e clenching when he unbuttons my jeans.

  He kisses a hot trail along my collarbone, inching his way back up my neck. His fingers swipe a line along my stomach, teasing me. Finally, he lowers the zipper and brushes the top of my panties. My muscles tighten in anticipation. He bites my earlobe, tugging at it. A bolt of need shoots through me as I struggle to maintain my composure.

  “Keep going,” I murmur, a slave to his touch. “Don’t stop.”

  Growling, his teeth bite down harder as he sweeps a finger under the line of my panties.

  “Do you feel what you do to me?” He subtly thrusts against me.

  “Yes,” I moan, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. “Yes.”

  He inches his hand farther south, my muscles tightening as he nears the spot I need him to touch. When he finds my center, I sigh. “And I can certainly feel what I do to you.”

  I bring his lips back to mine, my tongue plunging in his mouth, fireworks erupting in my core. Finally, he pushes a finger inside and I relax, bliss filling me.

  “You’re so wet. So tight. So fucking sweet.”

  “Just wait till you get a taste. You’ll never want another pussy again.”

  “Is that right?” He arches a brow, his expression playful as he continues stretching me.

  “That’s right,” I exhale as I move with his motions. “God, that’s so right.” I grab his head again, bringing his mouth to within a whisper of mine, my breathing becoming more erratic with each push, each thrust, each drive. My teeth chatter, my entire body trembling, close to unraveling.

  Instantly, he pulls his hand away, releasing his hold on me. I fling my eyes open, staring at him incredulously, a panting bundle of hormones.

  “What are you—”

  “Suck,” he demands, interrupting me, touching a finger to my lips.

  My eyes remaining glued to his, I slowly open my mouth, swiping my tongue against the tip of his finger. The contact is subtle, barely there. But the way his pupils dilate tells me he’s on edge, that he needs more, that he’s been fantasizing about this as much as I have.

 

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