Playing for Keeps (The Game #2)(55)
Author: Emma Hart

“That’s it. I knew it was an ‘M’ name, I just couldn’t think of it.” He waves her off.

“Perhaps.” Gloria smiles. “Megan, why don’t you go and show Aston around? It looks as though his grandfather is occupied for the moment.” She leans forward. “I made the spare rooms up because I didn’t know what you were doing,” she whispers. “If you want to share, you go ahead. You’re adults, after all, but just use–”

“Yes, thank you, Mom,” Megan rushes out. “Understood.”

She tugs on my hand, pulling me away from the decking and her father’s laughter. I smirk to myself.

“Good grief,” she says when we’re inside. “That went kinda well, I guess.”

“Hey – your parents embarrassed you, and your Nan eyed me up. I’d say it went pretty well!”

She pauses. “I guess that’s kinda standard.”

“I dunno. I’ve never met the parents before.”

She pauses halfway up the stairs, tilting her head and looking at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. You sound surprised.”

“I kinda am.”

“Why? You know I’ve never really dated anyone before. It’s always just been casual.”

She starts walking again. “So … This is serious?” I catch the teasing lilt in her voice.

“I’m toying with the idea of it …”

She grins, and I pull her close at the top of the stairs. “Yes?” She bats her eyelashes as she looks up at me.

I smile. “Was there ever any doubt this was serious?”

“No,” she answers, kissing me. “Not really.”

“Not really?” I raise an eyebrow.

“No,” she corrects, pulling me toward a door. “Love you.”

Her words send warmth through my body, silencing the constant whisper in the back of my mind.

“Love you,” I whisper, kissing her nose.

“My room.” She opens the door behind her, and I follow her in.

Woah.

Stuffed toys sit on the dresser, the white rug on the floor is fluffy as hell, and the walls are painted a light purple. Two doors to the right lead to what I assume is an en-suite and walk-in closet, and fairy lights hang above her bed.

“I’m pretty sure this is the most girly room I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“And how many girls’ rooms have you seen, exactly?” She quirks her eyebrows.

“One. This one.”

“Then your statement is ridiculous.” She laughs.

“I’m sleeping in here?” I eye up the stuffed toys.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I do.” I point to the stuffed toys. “But they’re gonna have to be turned around. I’m really not into being perved on by damn stuffed bears.”

Her blue eyes twinkle and she rests against the wall. “There’s nothing wrong with my stuffed bears.”

“There’s nothing right with them, baby.”

“Are you making me choose between you and my bears?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“I can see this being an issue, Mr. Banks.”

“Is that so, Miss Harper?” I step toward her, pulling her to me. My fingers thread through her hair, tilting her head back, and I brush my lips across hers. “Can your stuffed bears do this?” I run my nose along her jaw, my lips peppering kisses down her neck, sucking lightly on her pulse point. Her breath catches. “Or this?” I slide my hand down her back to cup her ass and pull her hips against mine. My erection throbs lightly against her, growing as she grinds slightly. “Or this?” I bend my head and swirl my tongue across the swell of her br**sts, teasing her by dipping it along the cup of her bra.

“No,” she breathes out. “No. They can’t do that.”

I nibble my way up to her ear, resting my lips against it. “So what was the issue?” I whisper.

“Issue? Who said anything about an issue?” She puts her fingers in my hair and tugs my head back. “No issues here.”

My lips twitch. “So the bears get turned round?”

She nods. “Hell, if there’s more of that …” Her body pushes right against mine, aligning perfectly. “They can live in the pool for all I care.”

“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from, and it’s all yours.”

~

Megan runs her hand down my body, her fingers tracing the defining lines of the muscle. I sigh deeply, pulling her closer to me, and breathe in the vanilla scent of her hair. No matter where she’s been or what she’s done, she always smells like vanilla.

“What are we doing today?” I ask, my fingertips following the curve of her spine right to her ass.

She shudders. “I thought we could go riding.”

“I get the feeling we’re not talking about bedroom riding.”

She looks up at me, her hair messy, and smiles. “No. Horse riding. I don’t go at college and I miss it.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“Um.”

“You taught me to fish,” she reminds me. “You made me fish!”

“I guess there’s no way around this, huh?”

She shakes her head, rolling on top of me. Her knees go either side of my hips, trapping me, and her hair falls around my face. She slowly lowers her face to mine, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth and grazing her teeth across it. I slide my hands along her thighs, my thumbs coming dangerously close to the naked area of warmth between her legs.

“No way around it at all,” she whispers.

“Really? You can’t ride me instead?”

“I …” she stops as I flick my thumb across her clit gently, making her thighs tighten. “I’m sure.”

She grabs my hands and moves them away.

“Is it gonna be one of those days?” I sigh.

She goes to her dresser, and slides on a pair of white lace panties and matching bra. My eyes follow her every movement as she walks into her closet soundlessly. I sit up and reaching forward to grab some clean boxers from my bag. Reaching forward very f**king uncomfortably thanks to the hardness of my dick. I shove them on as Megan reappears wearing riding pants and a white shirt.

“Fuck.”

She might as well be naked the way those pants cling to her hips. They’re molded to her body like a second skin.