Page 172 of Playing for Keeps


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I tugged my hand away from his and reached down to the little space open under the armrest, towards Adam’s thigh. My hand shook, but I couldn’t stop now.

Adam reached over, grabbed the armrest of my chair, and yanked it close to his. The chairs clattered together when they cut the space between us and the people in front of us glanced back with a frown.

Oh, god.

Long, agonizing seconds passed until they turned back to face the screen. My face was flushed with embarrassment, but that was nothing compared to the heat pooling between my legs. I wanted him. I wanted him so badly it was all I could think about.

Adam reached over my chair and took my wrist in his hand. He bypassed all my hesitation and all the planning. With a hard breath, he pressed the palm of my hand against his cock, rock hard in his jeans.

I whimpered.

It pulsed under my hand, throbbed under it. My vision swam. I ran the flat of my palm against his shaft and I could hear Adam swallow back a groan, music to my ears. Nothing felt better than this. Nothing could feel better than this.

This was everything I’d been pushing away from and it felt so good.

Someone stood up in the row in front of us and I jerked back my hand, shrinking down in my chair. We were at a movie night with everyone and I was feeling him up. If anyone saw…

Adam slipped off his hoodie, pulling it quickly over his head.

What was he doing? It was already getting chilly up on the rooftop and that was with the heaters plugged in at the end of the rows. I started to tell him to stop. I already had a hoodie of my own, he didn’t need to take it off.

He threw it onto my lap, and my eyes flickered down to his hand, going over the armrest to rest on my thigh.

Oh my god.

Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I dug my fingernails in the chair. I couldn’t make a scene, there were too many people in front of us. But actually keeping quiet was a whole other story. An impossible one.

Adam ran his hand over my thigh. My nerves lit up like a line of neon signs down the highway—I could barely hold it together. My breathing labored.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

His fingers went to the buttons of my jeans, unbuttoning them one after another, looking straight ahead.

“Adam,” I choked out. “If anybody turns around right now—”

“I need to taste you, ice princess,” he rasped.

Heat rose to my skin, my lips parted. Did he just say he needed to taste me? I couldn’t pretend like I was watching the movie anymore. I gazed up at him and gripped the chair.

Keeping his dark eyes on me, Adam dipped his fingers in my panties while I struggled not to fall apart. Slowly, achingly slowly, he ran his fingers along my sex, soaking wet.

He breathed out deeply. Pleased.

I had to swallow the whimper but I grabbed his arm, desperate for something to hold on to. This whole thing was supposed to be about making him feel good. How did I give up control so easily? My eyes rolled to the back of my head while he caressed me, drawing out every little sound I tried so hard to fight against.

Someone in the row ahead stood up and Adam froze, his hand inside of my jeans.

Oh, god. Please, no.

They walked slowly along the row, off to grab something from the snack table, and Adam dipped his finger inside of me and I choked back a moan.

Without bothering to button me up again, Adam drew back his hand and his eyes caught mine again, locking them in place. He placed his finger in his mouth. Tasting me. Tasting how aroused he made me.

I stared. Blood roared in my ears.

He returned his hand to my thigh and his hand crept towards my sex, resting at the closest part he could of my thigh. Just waiting.

Waiting for the movie to end.

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