Anything He wants

Chapter 3



He watches me, and I can see how much it’s costing him to fight how he feels about me. I wonder how long he can hold out. When I rock my hips against him, he lets out a pained groan, and before I know what the hell is going on, he’s spun me around and pinned me up against his jeep, holding me in place with his body, letting me feel the hard length of him digging into my stomach, promising so much pain and pleasure.

If the way his fingers wrap around my neck and the powerful way he’s towering over me didn’t have me aroused enough, the look of pure, raw need in his eyes is enough to almost make me orgasm on the spot.

“Stop fucking around,” he growls.

“I’m not. I would never do that to you. I want you, Jace.”

“Don’t say that,” he groans, looking down at me with a pained expression on his face. “You’re off limits to me, Sydney, completely forbidden, so stop fucking teasing me.”

“But I’m not,” I plead, grabbing onto his broad shoulders.

“I’m old enough to be your damn dad, and if that isn’t bad enough, I’m good friends with your parents.”

“I don’t care about any of that, and I love how old you are. It’s sexy as fuck.”

He groans again, tightening his grip on my neck and sending a rush of pleasure straight to my pussy. I let out a soft whimper and buck up against him.

“God-fucking-dammit!” he growls, leaning in closer so our mouths are almost touching. “This isn’t supposed to turn you on. It’s supposed to get you to see reason and scare some sense into your bratty ass.”

I smile and swipe my tongue along his bottom lip before he can stop me. “I’m not scared of you, and just for future reference, you putting your hands on my neck is always going to get my pussy wet.”

“Fuck,” he groans before pressing his mouth to mine. It’s not a soft kiss. It’s a fierce one that’s full of pent-up frustration and years of unfulfilled desires. It’s both of us finally admitting what we feel for one another, and when he pulls back, we’re both gasping and wanting so much more.

“I’m sorry,” he says, running his hand through his hair and stepping back like he doesn’t trust himself to touch me. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“I wanted it to happen. I want a lot more to happen, too.”

“God, don’t say that.”

He looks so miserable that I take pity on him. “Will you just come inside for a bit? We can hang out in the basement, and I can show you how much better I’ve gotten.”

I don’t get a laugh, but I do get a smile as he says, “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I say with a laugh. “Not all of us can play cards like you do. Come on, Jace, unless you’re afraid I’ll kick your ass.”

That gets his attention, just like I knew it would. Jace never loses, and he never backs down from a challenge involving cards.

“You’ve turned into a real brat since I’ve been gone,” he says, slamming his jeep door shut and pocketing the keys.

I don’t bother to tell him it has nothing to do with being a brat and everything to do with my achy, virgin pussy. Something tells me to save that little tidbit until we’re inside. Grabbing his hand, I lead him around the back of the house to the sliding doors that lead into the basement. Once we’re inside, I pull him over to the card table that’s been used for late-night poker games since before I was born and try to push him into one of the chairs, but it’s like pressing against a damn brick wall.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

He doesn’t budge, just arches a dark brow at me and says, “Easy, Syd. Just because you coerced me into coming down here doesn’t mean I’m going to let you boss me around.”

“Not the submissive type, huh?”

I expect him to laugh, but instead, he gives me a heated look that has my pussy clenching and my heart racing. Giving me a wicked grin, he says,

“No, I’m not the submissive type.”

“Good to know,” I say, taking a breath and forcing my body to relax before sitting down.

He grabs the deck of cards from his back pocket before sitting and takes them out of the package, shuffling them like a man who’s been handling them since he was a kid. There’s a graceful ease to his movements, and I feel almost hypnotized. I’ve always loved watching him handle cards. I’ve always been curious about what else those skilled hands can do.

“So what did you have in mind?” he asks, continuing to shuffle.

“Well, I thought maybe we could try something different.”

“Such as?”

“I’d like to play for something bigger than quarters.”

He laughs because that’s what we’ve always played for. It started as playing for pennies when I was really little, and then we eventually worked up to quarters, but I always lose, and he always conveniently forgets to take his winnings when he leaves.

“You think you’re ready to play for dollars?” he asks, giving me a cocky grin that makes it clear he knows I’d lose my ass off.

“No, absolutely not.” I don’t bother mentioning that I only have three dollars in my purse at the moment. “I want to play for something bigger.” He eyes me cautiously, waiting for me to go on. “I want to play for my virginity.”


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