Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(44)

“It’s okay, but next time, hit your flippers.” Colt released the spring again, sending the next ball to the left side. India continually pushed the buttons.


He murmured, “Slow down. Not yet. Wait for it.”


His husky voice sent a shiver up her spine. She completely forgot what she was doing until the flash of the silver ball caught her eye as it rolled down the center.


Colt groaned.


India groaned. “I did it again.”


“It’s all right.” His warm breath fluttered over her neck. “Just takes practice.” He flicked the ball high, murmuring encouraging comments in her ear.


Whoa. Tandem pinball had serious benefits. Colt did a little hip wiggle, positioning his hard body firmly into her backside and a blast of pure sexual heat rocketed through her. She closed her eyes to savor the moment.


Colt’s disgruntled snort forced her eyes back open.


“What?”


“The key to this game is concentration. I know you can do it.


I’ve seen you with a tattoo gun. Focus.” His hands tightened over hers on the flippers.


She imagined his warm, rough palms sliding up her arms and across her chest. First he’d squeeze her breasts, then pluck her nipples between his fingertips. He’d keep smoothing those wicked hands down her stomach until they landed on her hips. His fingers would meet in the center of her body; one quick tug and the top button on her jeans would pop open—


“Are you even watchin’? Because you didn’t use your flippers once—”


She spun around so quickly he staggered, grabbing onto her shoulders for balance. “Actually, I wasn’t paying attention. It’s distracting when you’re pressed against me.”


“Sorry.”


“Don’t be. I liked it. A lot.”


The scant space between them crackled with energy. Neither spoke, neither broke eye contact. Several long seconds passed before Colt lowered his mouth to hers.


India’s head buzzed while his lips moved back and forth.


Lightly. He kept the kiss soft, sensual. Rough thumbs caressed her cheekbones before his fingers tunneled into her hair.


He canted her head to his liking. Teased her with soft lips and sharp nips of his teeth and warm breath, sweet there-and-gone kisses. His hands began traveling down her body. He slicked the very tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips and her mouth opened to him.


India boldly thrust her tongue in further, hoping for a stronger, more complete flavor. He tasted faintly of root beer and toothpaste; with an underlying hint of spice she’d associated as uniquely his.


Colt gripped her hips and pressed his pelvis closer as he maneuvered her against the pinball machine.


A sharp pain jabbed her spine. “Ouch.”


“Hang on,” he muttered against her throat, hoisting her on top of the pinball machine. Urging her knees open, he positioned himself between her thighs and clamped his mouth over hers with renewed fervor.


Lights flashed, bells clanged and India knew it wasn’t from the arcade games. His cunning hands and hot mouth unleashed a steel ball of desire and it broke free to ricochet wildly in her blood. She wanted the heat bubbling under her skin to ignite his. She let her head fall back as he trailed openmouthed kisses down her neck.


His hot breath scorched her. He yanked her shirt down, exposing more skin to run his tongue and his teeth over without impediments.