As I scrub the dish, he strokes the lace covering my pussy.
I finish cleaning it as quickly as I can and move on to the next one.
Hunter starts rubbing my ass with his other hand, then he slides a hand between my legs and slips a daring finger under the scanty lace.
I gasp as his finger grazes my bare entrance.
I know he said he wouldn’t make me come as long as I kept scrubbing, but I don’t want to break his dishes. I put the dish down before I drop it and grab the edge of the sink again.
Hunter kisses the side of my hair. “You’re so fucking sensitive. I love it.” His lips graze the shell of my ear. “Did you ever touch yourself when I was away, Riley?”
Heat climbs my neck, but I nod.
“Yeah? Did you ever think of me while you did it?”
The flush deepens, climbing even higher. “Yes,” I say, a touch shyly.
“You better hurry up and finish these dishes, Catnip,” he tells me smoothly. “At this rate, I’m gonna win.”
It’s hard to breathe, but I crack a smile. “I didn’t realize it was a game.”
“Stick that pretty little ass out.”
I’m not sure if his praise, his touch, or his direction makes me blush harder. Whatever causes my skin to flush so deeply, I stick my ass out like he told me to, then I grab the scrubby and make my best effort to keep cleaning.
“Let’s see,” he murmurs thoughtfully as he continues to toy with me. “What should I get if I win?”
The blunt tip of his middle finger moves inside me, pressing against my clit. I rise up on my tiptoes trying to get away from the sensation and scrub more frantically at the dish.
“I think if I win, you blow me while we watch the movie.”
I let out a shaky breath. “And if I win?”
“If you win, I’ll hoist you up on this countertop and eat your pussy.” He kisses the side of my face. “Gotta finish the job, after all.”
I look at the dishes I have left in the sink. It’s not many, just our wine glasses and a couple of forks.
Surely I can get those clean before he can make me come.
Even if I can’t… I mean, it’s not like there’s a loser in this scenario.
“All right,” I say, looking back at him. “You’re on.”
Flashing me a devilish smile, he says, “Excellent,” then he grabs my jaw, turning my head so he can reach my mouth to give me a real kiss.
As soon as he releases me, he slides his hands into the waistband of my panties and starts to slide them down.
“What are you doing?” I ask, starting to squeeze my legs together. “I thought—”
“We didn’t establish any rules,” he tells me. “I make you come, I win. You don’t come until after the last dish is clean, you win. I can do whatever I want to make you come, and I want your panties off.”
“Wait a minute, that’s not what we agreed to. I thought you could only touch me like you were.”
He bends down to get me all the way out of my panties.
I sigh at the big cheater and step out of them.
He smirks up at me, then reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head as he stands.
I sigh. “You get to be shirtless, too? This isn’t fair.”
“Home-field advantage,” he says lightly.
The sight of him shirtless is all the distraction I really need not to be able to focus on the stupid dirty dishes.
His body is incredible. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. I know I’m pretty biased on account of being so fond of him, but he’s the actual embodiment of physical perfection—all bronzed skin and cut muscles. My stomach feels funny just looking at him standing there, subtly—maybe even accidentally—flexing as he turns to drop his shirt on the floor.
And his back muscles. Do not let me get started on his back.
“Why are you so sexy?” I demand, somewhat accusingly.
He smirks, walking over to me. “Good genes, good workout regimen.”
I drop the scrubby and reach out to touch his abs. “Just… so pretty.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs smugly, backing me up against the counter. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he starts to pull it off.
I try to pull it back down. I’m not excessively self-conscious about my body, but looking at his… it’s too bright under these kitchen lights. I cannot compare.
“I’m gonna cure you of this shyness,” he informs me, pushing my hands away and drawing my top off anyway.
“I’m so pale, you’re going to need sunglasses,” I warn him.
Hunter smirks. “I love every inch of this skin, pale or tan. Makes no difference to me.”
I pout as I look down at the V disappearing into his jeans. I want to lick him.
Dammit, he’s going to win.
But… if he wins, I get to lick him.
And I get an orgasm.
This really is the best game ever.
Now I’m wearing a bra and nothing else, but even that seems to be too much clothing for him. He moves closer, pressing his hard body against all my softness, then holds my gaze as he reaches back and unclasps my bra.
I swallow as the band goes slack and the material falls away from my breasts.
I have a feeling we’re not really going to play this game we spent all that time making up the rules for.
Hunter reaches for me, tugging my naked body against his. He’s still wearing jeans, but I’m stripped completely bare.
Not fair, but better than the alternative. If his pants come off, I’m officially forfeiting.
“Just as a reminder, if at any point this weekend we decide to have sex, we need to use a condom,” I tell him. “My mom said she would give you a chance, but only if you don’t knock me up for a good ten years.”
“That seems like a long time.” He locks his arms around me, dropping his head and kissing the exposed swell of my left breast.
“We might be able to get her to come down on that a smidge, but if you knock me up before I graduate, I think it’s safe to say her opinion of you will be cemented.”
He kisses his way closer to my nipple. “High school or college?”
“I’m on birth control now, so as long as we make it another couple of weeks, we should be in the clear until we actually want to have kids.”
Hunter stops and smirks at me.
I don’t realize why until I replay what I said. “I mean, if we were to ever have children together. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he teases.
“Which seems unlikely.”
“Because you hate when I fuck you,” he jokes.
“I see you naked and—” I gasp as his hot mouth latches onto my nipple. Releasing a shaky breath, I try to finish. “I run straight for the—” His tongue flicks across the tight bud. With a sigh, I forget what I was even trying to say.
“What was that?” Hunter asks, amused.
“Don’t gloat, it’s not cute.”
He lets go of my nipple to grin up at me, then he turns me around and starts walking me backward, still with his arms locked around my body.
“Where are we going?”
“Movie room. Remember?”
“I didn’t finish the dishes,” I say, with a longing look back at the kitchen island as he drags me away.