Winning It All (Hometown Players Book 4) (21 page)

He fucking dares me? What are we? Infants. “You’re a little shit.”

“A little shit you can trust,” he counters and takes my hand, tugging my whole body with him as he walks through the gate and into one of the enclosed buckets. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

For some insane reason, I let him pull me in with him. My knees are shaking and it feels like my blood is rushing much too quickly through my body. I
really
don’t like heights. He pulls me down gently onto the seat beside him and lets his lips graze my cheek softly. I hear him breathe in heavily as he nuzzles my hair fleetingly and it makes me shudder. He positions his bag on the floor between his feet and gives Mike a one-minute sign with his hand.

The seat is hard and cold and I stare at Sebastian as he digs around in the tote bag, and I try not to panic. He pulls out a large, soft, gray cashmere throw blanket and begins to drape it over both of us. I smooth my half over my lap. It’s as soft as a cloud. Seb digs back in his bag and comes out with a thermos and two metal camping mugs. He hands me one of the mugs as he unscrews the lid on the thermos. Steam curls up from it and he beckons for me to hold out my mug. As he pours the steaming liquid into my mug, the scent of chocolate fills my nostrils. And something else…something with a sharper scent.

He gives me a deep, almost dark smile and whispers. “Bailey’s and hot chocolate. It’ll keep you warm and calm your nerves.”

With the thermos stored back in the bag and both our mugs filled, he turns to Mike and nods. Mike walks over to the controls. I feel a rush of fear. “Sebastian, I don’t know about this…”

His eyes lock with mine and he smiles, but it’s smug. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever used my full name.”

Is it?

He leans closer; his lips brush my jaw. “You should say it next time you come.”

The wheel lurches forward and I let out a squeak of panic. He slides closer so our bodies are pressed to each other and his arm is around my shoulders. I feel instantly warmer and instantly calmer. Not totally relaxed but much better than a second ago. We both take a sip of our hot chocolate. It’s delicious. And the Bailey’s leaves a soothing warm trail down my throat on its way to my belly.

I keep my eyes on him, refusing to look out at our surroundings, which I’m sure are inching farther and farther away as the wheel chugs upward. He notices my intense, focused stare and grins his sexy, panty-wetting grin. “You’re honestly scared, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” I argue, and his grin deepens because it’s ridiculous. Fear is plastered all over my face, I know it. “I just am not a big fan of heights.”

His grin is cocky and slightly arrogant. “I found something that throws you off balance. I like it.”

“I’m not off balance, Frenchie,” I retort to prove I’m just fine. Which I am so not. As I realize there is nothing in my peripheral vision but inky, black sky—the lights from the peer and the parking lot are gone—I press my hands harder against the warm mug to keep them from shaking.

“Look at the view,” he demands quietly, turning his face to scan the horizon. “It’s very pretty.”

“So are you,” I argue. “So I’ll keep my eyes where they are.”

His deep belly laugh fills the chilly air and causes the bucket we’re in to shake. My heart lurches and tightens in fear. I reach out and grab his knee. “Stop!”

He laughs harder, and I grip his knee so tightly it hurts my fingers. He uses his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer and nuzzles his face against my neck. I know he’s technically clean-shaven but it’s rough and gives me a delicious tickle anyway. My fear dims ever so slightly. “You must be terrified if you’re willing to hand me a compliment to keep from facing your fear.”

His words are dripping with such smug egotism I’m surprised they aren’t making a puddle at our feet. My competitive side roars to life, which also helps quell my fear. I am not going to let him feel like he’s got something over me here. “It’s got to be the lack of light. You look much better in the dark.”

He didn’t see that zinger coming and it shows as his cocky little grin slips, but then he laughs again and the bucket we’re in—now a million feet above the ground—rocks again. I make a weird little sound—like a gurgle of fear—and clutch his leg again, this time much higher than his knee. His laughter stops instantly. “
Ma belle
, if your hand gets any higher you’re going to death grip something that will ruin the night for both of us.”

Our eyes meet again. “Then stop shaking this death trap.”

His eyes soften. “Drink,
mon amour
.”

Despite the fact that I hate being told what to do, I raise my mug to my lips and take a big sip. The warm, alcoholic liquid does help calm me down. He sips his own and leans close again. “Look out. I promise it’s worth it.”

“I don’t like to be scared,” I reply firmly. “I appreciate the gesture and the trouble you went through. And I’m enjoying being with you and the boozy hot chocolate, but there’s no need for me to terrify myself.”

He reaches up and pushes my hair back over my shoulder. His hand stays tangled in it, loosely cupping the back of my neck. His rough fingertips gently rub back and forth over the nape of my neck. It’s making me horny, which at least is helping me ignore the fear. “I think you need to live a little. Take some risks.”

“You’re a risk,” I mutter back. He smiles and tilts his head. My stomach flutters as I think he’s going to kiss me but his lips simply glide by mine. I almost groan with disappointment.

“Nah…” he argues softly. He finishes the hot chocolate in his mug and places it on the seat next to him. Then he raises his hand and puts it under my chin and tries to gently nudge my face toward the skyline stretching out in front of us. I let him but promptly close my eyes. I feel his lips against the crook of my neck and it makes me shiver. He sucks lightly on the skin there for just a moment before pulling back to whisper, “I dare you.”

“You’re lucky I don’t throw you out of this thing,” I spit back as his hand drops from my chin and lands in my lap on top of the blanket.

“You’d have to open your pretty little eyes to do it, so something tells me I’m safe.”

I feel his hand move under the blanket and come to rest in the crease in my leg where my thigh meets my hip and my… His fingers fan out.
Oh my God.

My eyes open, and before I can turn my face to look at him, the man with his fingers spread across my inner thigh, pressing against my core through my jeans, presses his forehead to my cheek, keeping my face straight forward. I have no choice but to look out at the skyline stretched before me.

We are so freaking high! The entire city is spread out below us, glimmering and shimmering, and it’s breathtaking, but so is my fear. Even though I know it’s the worst possible decision, I inch forward in my seat and look down through the glass of our bucket. The water below looks like a giant black hole and I am overwhelmed by the panic for a second until I feel his fingers move. They brush purposefully against the center of my jeans and the spike of fear is equally matched by a spike of pleasure.

“Frenchie…”

He either doesn’t hear the caution in my voice or he just doesn’t give a fuck, because his fingers press harder and begin to move against my middle. He’s pressing the seam of my jeans into me; I only wore a thin, very lacy thong and the friction is…It’s fucking incredible. I bite my top lip.

“See…it’s not so bad, is it?” he murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek, and his fingers pressing and rubbing in just the right place. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

I nod and put my hot chocolate mug down beside me. His lips press firmly to my cheek, a fraction of an inch from my mouth. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting you from your fear.”

He kisses me again. I turn my head, as our bucket crests the top of the wheel and…stops.

My body jolts, and I sit up perfectly straight and clutch him again exactly where he was worried I would clutch him, but I’m not nearly as forceful as I want to be. His hand between my legs lifts as he startles.

“Why are we stopped?” I ask, my eyes wild and my head turning from side to side, looking for something trapping us up here. The pod looks fine, but then again it’s dark. “We’re stuck? Oh my God, we’re stuck!”

He’s…laughing? He’s fucking laughing! I twist to face him on the tiny bench. He tries not to laugh, pressing his lips together tightly, but it’s impossible and he laughs even harder. I hate him.

“Frenchie! I don’t want to sit up here swinging in the abyss!” I wail and yeah, I am totally wailing.

He stops laughing, but he’s still smiling, so I still want to punch him. He lifts his hands like I’m holding a gun. “Okay! Okay! Relax, I just thought, if he gave us a moment at the top, you would enjoy the gorgeous view and I would enjoy you.”

The bucket continues to rock ever so slightly and my heart lurches with every tiny swing. I place my palm flat on my chest and try to sound calm and serious as I say, “Sebastian, I want to get down. Please.”

“Okay. Okay,” he coos and slides close to me again. “All I have to do is text him when I want it started up again.”

“Text him.”

“Kiss me first.”

“Are you kidding me?” I would seriously punch him except I’m sure his phone has a password and I won’t be able to text Mike to start this death trap.

He shrugs, smirking. “You might not be able to enjoy the view, but I still want to enjoy you. That way the night isn’t a total loss.”

“You’re a crazy, insane egomaniac, you know that?”

He nods and leans closer. “Yeah. So?”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “Text him.”

“Kiss me.” His hand slides back between my thighs but this time lies still. I open my eyes and he’s taken off his glasses. Even in the darkness, his eyes are light and mischievous and so damn sexy under those dark, thick eyebrows. He squeezes my thigh. “Just. One. Kiss.”

“Enjoy it because it’s the only time you’re going to touch me tonight.” Then I reach up, grab the back of his head and kiss him for all he’s worth.

Shay is not fucking around. The kiss is aggressive. Her lips are strong and they part mine instantly, her tongue sweeping into my mouth like she owns it. She twists her fingers in my hair, tugging, and her body leans into it, her legs parting slightly and giving me better access. She most likely didn’t mean to do it, but I’m taking advantage anyway. I press my fingers into her jeans and then slowly slide them upward.

Without a second’s hesitation I unbutton them. If she notices, she doesn’t react; she’s too busy with the kiss, which is so hot I swear it’s causing every ounce of blood I have to rush to my dick. She pulls my lower lip between her teeth but her gentle tug turns into a warning bite as I slide her zipper down.

“Frenchie.”

“Sebastian,” I correct her. “Remember I like the way it sounds when you say it. Now I want to hear you pant it.”

“And I want to be on solid ground again,” she replies, but there’s much less conviction in her voice since the kiss. So I move my fingers into the space created by her open zipper. Lace greets my touch and I smile as I press my lips to her jaw and kiss my way up to her earlobe.

“Look at that view,
ma belle
,” I whisper and skirt the edge of her underwear. “Just look for a second. Take it in. This city…that brought you and me together.”

Her lips part and I know she’s going to tell me no, or tell me to text Mike again, so I kiss her and slip my fingers under her lacy underwear. She surprises me because she doesn’t scoot away from my hand or grab it and move it away. She pushes into me, parting her legs and lifting her ass a little to give me even more access. My fingers slide over that neat little triangle of hair and down lower where I find her wet and wanting.

I force myself not to smile into the kiss but damn, I’m fucking happy. I love her response to me because I have the exact same response to her, as the hard bulge pressing against my jeans proves. She reaches for my hair again as I slide two fingers into her.

She moans into my mouth and bites my bottom lip. I burrow my face against her neck, my lips tracing every inch of skin I can. “You’re so beautiful, Shay,” I whisper against her skin. “You may be scared but you’re turned on too. You like being pushed out of your comfort zone. You enjoy the way I challenge you.”

I start to pump my fingers in and out of her; she bucks up to meet me as her mouth turns away from mine and her head starts to tip back, her mouth falling open and a sexy little pant slipping out. Her hips push into my hand, and I tease her clit with my thumb. “Frenchie…oh my God.”

“Say my name, baby,” I demand, rubbing her clit and pushing my fingers deeper. “I love the feel of you hot, wet around my fingers. I want you to look at the view and I want you to come on my hand. And I want you to say my name when you do it.”

She’s close. Her hips are moving hard against me. Her skin is pink, and her eyes half closed and fluttering, a taut moan escaping her parted lips. I’m so absorbed in watching her chase her release that I don’t even realize she put her hand on top of the bulge in my jeans.

“Say
my
name,” she challenges in return and begins to rub her palm over my length. Holy fuck, this girl just never lets me win—and it’s so fucking perfect.

I push deeper, palming her and rubbing every part of her. “Oh…yes…”

She’s managed to get my zipper down and she doesn’t even flinch when she touches my hot, hard flesh instead of underwear, which I don’t wear all the time and am not wearing tonight. Her fingers play over my tip, playing with my precum, and I’m already so turned on it sends spikes of heat barreling up my spine. I am so close to coming it’s insane. I haven’t gotten off with a woman on anything less that a wet mouth or a wet pussy since I was a teenager. The woman is going to make me come with just the tips of her fingers.

“Oh…Oh…”

“Say my name.” I gently bite down on her earlobe and curl my fingers, deeper, and find her sweet spot.

Her eyes open, she’s looking out at the world below us and she gasps. “Sebastian…”

Her fingers wrap around my length as best they can in the confined space and as I watch her come, I push up into her hand. She tightens her grip and I punch up my hips again and come. I fucking come from watching her come and a few feeble pumps into her hand. And when I do her name tumbles from my lips. “Shayne…”

The words I bite back are
I think
I’m falling in love with you.