21. Playing to Win
21
Tessa
Iwalk down the grocery store aisle with Hadley by my side, pushing an empty cart toward my destination. I search the shelves for the cheapest price, and when I find what I’m looking for, I start loading the economy-sized packages of toilet paper into the cart.
“Seriously? This is what you’re going with?” she asks, watching me dubiously.
“Do you have any better ideas?” I ask.
I know toilet-papering someone’s house is a juvenile move, but it was the best I could come up with on short notice. After talking a big game to Riggs this morning, I had to scramble. It’s not my fault. The sight of his big, broad, bare chest left me a little brain dead.
“No,” Hadley says, answering my question. “I just don’t understand why you’re still pranking him. Especially after you…had sex.”
She whispers the last two words, making me laugh as I stack another pack of toilet paper into the cart. “Think of it as foreplay.”
She scrunches her face, saying, “Gross. I’d rather not think of foreplay and toilet paper in the same sentence.”
I shoulder bump her with a laugh, saying, “I know I started this war in anger, but honestly, Had, it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. I’m not going to stop just because the man gave me a few orgasms. I’m playing to win.”
Hadley and I part ways with a hug in the parking lot after she helps me load the toilet paper into my car. I watch her as she walks to her own vehicle, making sure she makes it safely inside before I pull out of my spot and head home.
When I pass by Riggs’ house, he’s out in the front yard, still shirtless, pushing a lawnmower across the grass. Stopping in the driveway, I get out of the car, watching him for a moment. My body comes to life as my eyes rake over his sweat-covered chest. Fuck, he really is a dark-haired Adonis with all those muscles.
He looks up then, a grin on his face like he knew I was watching him. Stiffening my spine, I give him a firm nod. He jerks his head back in return, and I force my pace to remain slow and steady as I walk up the steps onto my porch to the front door. Sticking my key into the lock, I turn it and push the door open. I chance another glance at Riggs, and he’s still watching me with a heated expression.
My stomach flutters, but I ignore it for the moment. I’ve got business to take care of tonight, and I refuse to get sidetracked. I just have to wait until it gets dark, and Riggs is in bed.
I don’t see or hear from Riggs the rest of the day, and as night falls, the anticipation threatens to kill me. I didn’t ask any of the girls to help me this time. No, this war is between me and Riggs, and I want all of the glory of my victory when he wakes up in the morning and finds his house completely covered in toilet paper.
I force myself to wait until ten p.m. Riggs is usually up early for his morning workouts, so he must go to bed early, too, right? As soon as the clock strikes ten, I slip out through my front door. I don’t want to open the garage and tip him off that I’m out and about, which is why I left my car in the driveway earlier. Everything looks quiet over at Riggs’, so I hurry over to my car and slowly ease open the trunk. Ripping open the plastic on a pack of toilet paper, I pull out several rolls and tiptoe over into his yard.
He doesn’t have any trees in the front, so I have to get creative. Unrolling several yards of paper on one roll, I hold the end of it in my left hand while rearing back to throw the rest of the roll over his roof. With any luck, I’ll make it over in one try, and he’ll have toilet paper trailing down from the roof in the front and back. I have over a hundred rolls, so by the time I’ve finished it will be a veritable curtain of toilet paper hiding both the front and back of his house.
Widening my stance, I prepare to chuck it, but before my arm can move forward, I see a shadow barreling toward me in my peripheral vision. I scream as arms wrap around my middle, yanking me to the ground in a full-on tackle. My assailant twists around, taking the brunt of the hit to the ground before rolling over to pin me beneath him on the grass.
Riggs’ smiling face beams down at me in the darkness as he says, “Hey, Tess. What are you up to tonight?”
“Ugh,” I groan, lifting my hips to try to buck him off. “Get off me, you big lug.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, not budging an inch. “Whatcha doing with all that toilet paper in your trunk?”
“None of your business,” I grunt, trying to dislodge him again.
“Oh, I think it is my business since you were just about to throw some on my house.”
“I was not.” Deny. Deny. Deny.
“Mm, hmm,” he hums, wiggling his hips to settle between my thighs.
I can feel his cock hardening against me, and I can’t stop myself from rubbing against it. All thoughts of war flee my head when his eyes drift closed with a moan. My breathing accelerates, my heart pounding against my ribs as he reopens his eyes, and I see the fire in their dark depths.
His head dips, and his lips brush over mine. Once, twice, three times, until I grip the back of his neck and pull him closer so I can kiss him properly. His tongue invades my mouth, licking against mine as his hand slides up my side to cup my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and he groans into my mouth as he realizes I’m not wearing a bra.
Sliding his hand back down, he slips it beneath the hem of my tank top and back up to press his palm to my flesh. His fingers toy with my nipple, plucking it until it’s a hard nub of sensitivity. His mouth trails down to my neck, and I arch into him, wanting more. Needing more.
A dog barks somewhere, and we both freeze. Fuck, we’re in the middle of his front yard where anyone––and by anyone, I mean Miss Nelly––can see us.
Riggs pulls his hand free and stands before helping me to my feet. Then he bends, pushing a shoulder into my gut before straightening with me hanging over his shoulder. I try to wriggle free, but he stills me with a light slap to my ass as he carries me inside his house.
When he finally sets me to my feet, I brush my hair out of my eyes and look around. We’re in his kitchen. Dropping to his knees, Riggs tugs down the black sweats I’d pulled on for my endeavors. I hold onto his shoulders as he yanks my feet free of the elastic, marveling at the look of desire on his face as he slowly pulls down my underwear.
Once I’m free, he smooths his hands up my thighs with a low groan, then stands. Cinching his hands around my waist, he lifts me up and sits me down on his kitchen table.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he walks over to the refrigerator and opens it.
Turning toward me, he holds up a bottle of chocolate sauce and says, “I’m starving, so I thought we’d come in here so I could have a little snack.”
His eyes drop to the apex of my thighs as he says that last word, and a shiver tattoos down my spine. Then he stalks toward me like a man on a mission, so I whip my shirt over my head and offer myself up for his feast.
I may not have won this round in our little prank war, but I still feel victorious as Riggs pops open the bottle of chocolate syrup with a lecherous grin.