I groaned, a rush of warmth hitting between my thighs, and my clit throbbed so hard, I had to be wet.

“Sometimes,” I admitted in a whisper, forcing myself to hold his eyes.

He cocked his head. “Sometimes?”

I nodded.

His glare hardened, and I knew he felt challenged.

My heart raced, beating faster and faster, and I didn’t know if my gamble was a huge mistake.

I only ever thought of him. Every fantasy, every orgasm…

Every time I was alone and touched myself, I only ever pictured him, his gorgeous eyes and body pinning me to a bed.

Or to a couch, a table, or the floor. It was always Michael.

But he had gotten my attention for far too long, and it was time for him to get jerked around. He wanted to play? I could play.

“Why did you lie to Jake?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. “You watched the games in high school. You were at every one of my games.”

I tensed. “You knew that?”

I couldn’t believe he knew I attended every game. Even when he was in high school and I was still in junior high, I tagged along with Mrs. Crist, never missing a game until he went off to college.

“Why did you lie?”

I opened my mouth, searching for words. “I didn’t,” I finally forced out. “I said I never watched the games, and that was true. I just…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked back up at him, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I just watched you.”

He held my eyes, his expression hardening. His breathing sped up, and his rich scent flooded my head as I closed my eyes.

“Rika,” he whispered, sounding desperate as he grazed my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

Tingles spread over my face, and I felt higher than I ever had.

“When you think about me…‘sometimes,’” he added with amusement in his tone—he knew I was lying—“show me what you do to yourself.”

I blinked my eyes open, looking at the heat in his eyes. My nervous heart pounded harder, but I fought to restrain my excitement, too.

I’d never done that in front of anyone, and I hesitated, worrying about all the other women he’d had. How experienced they were, and if he’d snicker and laugh at what I had…

And then I heard Michael in my head from what seemed like ages ago, in a dark room, the first time he got close…

Own it. Don’t apologize for who you are. Own it. You can’t win if you don’t show up, right?

I held his eyes, intense and not blinking, as I slid my hand down into my bikini, and between my thighs.

Michael ran a hand over the left side of my neck, and I faltered, not used to having anyone touch me there.

But he didn’t seem to notice anything. He continued, threading it under my hair, holding me as his eyes dropped and he watched me move my fingers inside my black swimsuit.

His chest rose and fell quicker, and his hard gaze stayed trained on my hand as I circled my clit with two fingers.

My pussy started throbbing harder, and I whimpered, my insides flooding with heat as he watched me play.

“Take them off,” he breathed out, eyes never leaving my hand.

I shook my head.

“Do it.” He shook me, and I gasped.

Jesus. A rush hit my stomach, and the pulse in my fucking clit pounded harder.

I groaned.

“Please, Rika,” he begged, kissing my lips and drawing them out with his as he pulled back. “I need to see.”

I licked my lips and slipped my fingers under the straps at my hips and pushed the bottoms down, stepping out of them.

I caught his sudden intake of breath, and, without hesitation, I slid my hand back down between my thighs. I moved my fingers in and out, swirling the wetness up and over my clit as I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes.

I arched my back and lifted my leg up, letting Michael grab it under the knee and hold it at his waist.

Much better now.

Rolling my hips in small movements, feeling his cock grow hard as I brushed against it inside his pants, I continued fingering and playing, hearing his breathing grow labored. He must’ve liked what he was seeing.

“Is this what you wanted?” I whispered, sliding two fingers inside myself.

“Yes,” he choked out.

I smiled. Whether or not I thought I was sexy or just a stupid kid was irrelevant. Michael Crist was losing his grip.

“Sometimes I do other things,” I taunted.

He snapped his eyes up to me, narrowing them. “What else?”

“I can’t tell you.” I licked my lip. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime. Or maybe I’ll do it tonight when I take off my clothes and crawl into my bed alone”—and I leaned in, whispering across his lips--“naked, hot, wet, and alone.”

He exhaled, his lungs emptying. “Fuck.”

And before I knew what was happening, he dropped to his knees, hooked my leg over his shoulder, and took my bare pussy in his mouth, assaulting me fast and hard with his tongue and teeth.

I cried out. “Michael!” Oh, God.

He sucked my clit into his mouth and then released it, rubbing his tongue over the sensitive skin again and again. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Oh, shit,” I choked out. “Fuck.”

He dived in between my legs, eating me like he was starved.

I fisted the top of his hair, arching my neck as he nibbled, sucked, and licked, going around in circles and circles and then diving back in to claim me hard.

“Fuck, you’ve got a nice pussy,” he whispered against my skin, looking up at me as he flicked my clit with his tongue. “You’re a pretty girl, Rika. So soft and tight.”