“Your man know you out here like this?” I lowered my mouth to her ear and whispered.
“No,” she said, teasing. “And I’m sure he’ll be here at any minute. You might want to move around. He’s dangerous.”
I lowered my hand, tracing the curve of her side. “So am I.”
She turned her head to glance at me over her shoulder and smirked. “That supposed to scare me?” she asked, voice playful but edged.
I dragged up to her throat, closing my hand around it, my grip firm but loose. “It should.”
“Is that right? What if I told you I’ve met your type before?”
“I’d say you’re a liar because I’m one of a kind. If you met someone like me, then you’d be getting handled right.”
“They tried.”
“And failed.”
She turned toward me then, still dancing, still wearing that look that said she wasn’t backing down. “You think you could do better?”
“No. IknowI can. The real question is, do you think you can handle me?”
She smiled, slow and wicked. “Try me.”
I slid my hand from her throat to her jaw, tilting her head so she had no choice but to look up at me. “I don’t try,” I said. “I take.”
Her lashes lowered, but that smirk didn’t fade.
“Then take your shot, stranger,” she said. “Let’s see if you live up to the hype.”
I didn’t answer right away.
Instead, I studied her, the way her mouth curved, and the way her body stayed close even when her words played hard to get. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.
I slid my hand down her back until it found her juicy ass. This time, I pulled her into me, our bodies flush. Her breath brushed my neck, and I felt her heartbeat pick up in her chest.
“You talk too much,” I murmured.
“You touch too slow,” she whispered back.
My lips ghosted across her jaw, not quite kissing her, but close enough to make her shift. Her hands slid up my chest, nails grazing through my shirt, her eyes daring me to do something reckless. Something public.
“I could fuck up your whole life,” I said, low and even.
Her grin widened. “Then fuck it up.”
And that was all I needed.
I pressed my mouth to hers—slow at first, deep, like I had time to waste, even though every part of me was screaming to devour her. She opened for me, soft but hungry, matching every move with her own. Her hands curled in my shirt as I kissed her like she belonged to me, because even in this game, she did.
When we finally pulled apart, her lipstick was smudged, and her breathing was uneven.
“Still not scared?” I asked.
She licked her lips and tilted her head.
“No,” she said, voice hoarse. “But I’m finally interested.”
That made me laugh.
