Bet on It (63)

“Part of me wants to steal one.” She giggled. “I won’t, because the last thing I need is to get labeled a thief before I’ve even been here a year, but I really, really want to. A boring one, you know. One nobody would miss.”

“That’s incredibly evil of you, Miss Owens,” he joked.

“It would just be cool to take something home with me that has a little history, is all. Some of these books are so old it looks like they’ve been here since the house was built.” She flipped through the pages of a faded hardcover. “Also, I definitely get a kick out of how the original owners of this house—hell, even the current ones—would throw a fit at the thought of some little Black girl coming in here and taking something.”

“Even more reason for you to actually do it then.”

Aja looked back and forth between him and the bookshelves, seriously considering it. He didn’t want to sway her too much with his opinion for fear she’d end up doing something she didn’t want to. But he firmly believed that she should. He highly doubted any of the books in the room had been read in decades. The most action they probably saw was when the cleaning staff came by to do their weekly dusting.

“I don’t know.…” She slid the book she was holding back in its place. “What if I accidentally end up running off with someone’s favorite book? I don’t think I can.”

She left the shelves, coming over to sink into the couch right along with him.

“If it makes you feel better, the way Mayor Harris governs this place, I doubt he’s ever read a book in his entire life.”

Aja’s laugh reverberated through the room. The apologetic look she gave him when she remembered they were supposed to be keeping a low profile made him chuckle.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Choosing to have peach cobbler as the dessert this year is the best decision he’s made since he was elected.”

“Well, whichever mayor decided to get this couch did a great fucking job.” She sank in deeper, throwing one of her legs over his. His hand went to her skin immediately, thumb circling the ball of her knee. “In here is definitely much better than out there.”

“I agree. Comfortable couch, air conditionin’, the quiet.” He nodded. “That’s all you need.”

“Don’t forget about me.” She bit down on her lip. “I’m sure my company makes it even better.”

He leaned in enough to brush his knuckles against her cheek and bump her nose with his. “You have no idea.”

Those brown eyes flicked down to his lips. They were close enough that he could practically taste her breath.

“You should back up.” Her lust-roughened voice made him grind his teeth.

“Yeah, I should.”

“We have a pact, remember?” Even as she said this, she pressed her face in, rubbing their cheeks together.

“Right—we’re only allowed to do this when one of us wins a bingo.”

“Yes. Only then.”

His dick grew thick against his thigh, dripping like it knew what was about to happen before his brain did. “So why are we doing it now?”

Aja’s eyes closed briefly. “Because we’re awful, awful people who find it nearly impossible not to be drawn to each other?”

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t even help myself. Anytime I see you, my body just reacts. The way you smell, the way you move, the way you talk. I don’t think there’s anything about you that doesn’t make me feel like I need to fuck you until we’ve both had our fill.”

“We already tried to get our fill, remember?”

“Oh, I remember all right.” His memories were crystal clear, even with his eyes open. “I remember that shit every night, just about.”

Aja sucked in a harsh breath, and he could almost smell her arousal in the air. Her leg was still over his, the other on the floor. With her spread open, he had an unobstructed view of her cloth-covered center. Her shorts had ridden even farther up; the skin on the insides of her thighs was a little darker than the rest of her.

“I remember that too,” she admitted. “And as soon as I came, I knew that…”

“You’d never actually get your fill. That one time would never be enough.”

“Yes. Which is why the pact is necessary; it keeps us from chasing that high again and again until we screw ourselves over. Keeps us from almost having sex on the couch in the mayor’s sitting room.”

“Does it count if we don’t actually have sex?” He moved to rub his face against her soft jaw. “Not in the most traditional sense, at least.”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head to the side, giving him more access.

“I mean, what if we just played a little? Did some of the things we didn’t get to do last time? Things I’ve been dyin’ to do for longer than I care to admit.”

“I thought we did a pretty thorough job of it,” she whispered.

“Not nearly. Even after havin’ the best orgasm of my life, I was left wantin’. Mostly for a proper taste of you.”

Aja’s whine was high and hoarse, her legs moved a little as she tried to spread herself wider. “It’s been so long since…”

“Since what, Aja?”