Page 38 of Worth Every Game
As though his question broke a dam, arousal floods my body.Yes, I’m turned on. My synapses malfunction and all I can manage to say is, “Huh?”
“If I came over there and slid my hand into those tiny little shorts, I’m pretty sure I’d find you wet.” My heart catapults around my chest cavity and heat roars through me.Oh, my God. “Are you wet for me, El? Because I’d really like to feel that.”
My mouth drops open and I’m fairly sure my lungs have teleported to another universe, because I can’t breathe at all.
He observes me for a few seconds before his expression cracks like a mirror and he slaps his hand down on the kitchen island, bending double with laughter. “You should see your face,” he wheezes. “It’s too easy. Too easy…”
Shit. The game. I forgot about the game. “Why, you—” I shoot out of my seat, letting out a rip-roaring leather-skin-fart noise.Oh, dear Lord. The humiliation. My cutlery drops from my hands, clattering against my plate, spattering egg over the surface and onto my camisole. I glare at Jack, but he’s laughing like he’s losing control and this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened.
“This game isn’t supposed to be funny.” My voice is high and squeaky, and I’m not sure if I’m angry or amused or humiliated. Probably all three. “You’re not supposed to be laughing at me. That’s not how you get me into bed.”
His shoulders are shaking.Hell, his whole body is shaking. “I’m not sure I want you in my bed if you’re going to fart like a troll.”
“I did not… I didn’t fart. That wasn’t a fart. Ineverfart.”Lies. “Ever. Especially not in bed. If I were in bed with you, I definitely wouldn’t fart.”
Jack is choking on his own laughter. “Careful El, you sound like you want me to win,” he says between bursts.
“I don’t… I do not—”
His laughter calms abruptly, and his voice cuts me off. “But you are wet, right?” His eyes are so bright, it’s like there’s a disco happening inside his head. It’s a magnetic look on him, and no matter how annoying he’s being, I find myself captivated by his stupid, handsome face. “Because it’s only a short walk from wet to begging. I’ll win this game in no time.”
Fuck’s sake.He’s infuriating.
I spin to march out of the kitchen, but he calls after me, “You’ll have to up your game if you want to play with the pros, El.”
I can hear him chuckling, all pleased with himself, and I’m not having that. He can’t think it’s that easy to mess with me. I turn back around, fuelled by an impetuous irritation I can’t control. “Oh, yeah?” I say, and, when I’m sure his attention is on me, I yank up one side of my camisole and flash him a boob.
His eyes nearly pop out of his head, heat firing in his gaze, burning away all traces of amusement.
“Jesus,” he curses, his hands tightening on the countertop as my shirt falls back in place.
The air crackles with a new energy, and tension wraps around me, crushing my ribs.Damn. Suddenly, my actions don’t feel like the stroke of genius they did only seconds ago. Even though my breast is well hidden again, everything feels different. My naked nipple has smashed our current reality into pieces and spun us both out into a different, more awkward one.
“You trying to fucking kill me over here?” Jack half-laughs, half-rasps, desperation weaving through his tone.
I feel a flush of success at his reaction, but I don’t want to gloat, and I’m already ashamed at having used such a childish tactic. I school my face into a semblance of dispassion. “No. I’m trying to win.”
His jaw tenses, and I can’t stand here with his heated, ravenous gaze on me any longer. I turn and leave the room, but as I mount the stairs, my heart is beating so fast it could very well explode.
What the hell was I thinking, flashing Jack Lansen my boob?
14
ELLY
Ispend the next week creeping around the house. It’s not that I’m not willing to raise my game, or‘play with the pros’as Jack would have it, but I already exposed a breast, and I don’t know where I go from here.
What’s the next move?
Whenever I walk past his bedroom, my heart thumps so hard I worry it’ll rocket right out of my chest. Sometimes I can hear him showering, and the idea of him naked and soaking wet under running water makes everything worse.
How am I supposed to resist, when I’m constantly bombarded by temptation?
I’ve been trying to focus on preparing for my interview at the Granville Agency, the most important event of my career so far. That should be dominating my thoughts, not Jack bloody Lansen and this stupid game.But… fuck. Why does the most annoying man in the world also have to be the most attractive?
I force thoughts of Jack out of my head, replacing them with Robert Lloyd and my interview. This day has been looming closer, my anxiety spiking with every hour that passes. Myfixation on Jack is nothing more than a form of avoidance.Surely?
Thinking of him is easier than worrying about this.