Chapter Twenty-Nine Reese
Twenty-Nine
Reese
Grace looked at Reese in surprise. “Lie down on the board?”
He nodded. She hesitated a moment then did as he asked.
Reese knelt beside her, looking down at her.
The velvet dress she’d put back on had ridden up to mid-thigh, beading catching candlelight with every breath.
The board was under her back, property cards scattered around her like confetti, and she had a hotel clutched in one hand like a weapon.
She looked like trouble. The best kind.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “We’re still buying properties. But instead of what’s on the board,” his hand cupped her breast, “I’m buying you.”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He grabbed a handful of Monopoly houses. “I’m going to buy you. Property by property.”
“Oh no you’re not. That’s not how this works.”
He shook his head. Why did she keep challenging him like this? “Then how does it work?”
She stood up and pointed at the board. “You lie down.”
“Grace—”
“I’m buying you. Those are the rules. I consider myself a feminist, Reese.”
Reese looked at her. At the determination in her eyes. The challenge.
He could fight it. Take control the way he usually did.
Or he could let her win this one.
“Fine.” He lay down on the board.
Grace’s smile turned triumphant. “Good boy.”
She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off him. Then she picked up a green Monopoly house and set it on his bare collarbone. “Old Kent Road. Cheapest property on the board.” Her fingers traced down his chest, and he felt himself go rock solid. “But you have to start somewhere.”
Another house. This one on his sternum. “Whitechapel.”
Another. Lower. Just above his navel. “Kings Cross Station.”
Reese’s breathing had gone shallow. His muscles tense. He was acutely aware of every point where she touched him. Every place a tiny plastic house rested against his skin. He needed to taste her skin, be inside her.
Fuck this game.
He grabbed her wrist but she shoved him away.
“Stay still, I’m concentrating.” She picked up a hotel. The big red one. “You can only move if I give you permission.”
Christ.
His cock responded, obvious and aching against those vintage pants.
Grace noticed. Her smile widened.
“Mayfair,” she said, setting the hotel low on his hip. Right at the waistband. “Most expensive property. Prime real estate.”
Her fingers hooked into the waistband of the pants. Pulled them down just slightly. Just enough to make him crazy.
“You know what Mayfair gets me?” Grace asked.
“What?”
“Everything.” She leaned down. Pressed a kiss to his hip bone, right next to the hotel. “I win.”
Grace picked up the dog—her game piece—and walked it up his body. Over his stomach. Up his chest. Stopped at his throat.
“I’m going to win this game,” she said. “And you’re going to let me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She leaned down. Lips brushing his ear. “Because you owe me. And because—” Her hand slid lower. Over his stomach. Down. “—you secretly like it when I take control.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Reese lay there, covered in Monopoly pieces, completely at her mercy, and realized this was the hottest thing that had happened to him in years.
“Grace,” he said, voice rough. “C’mon now…touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean.”
Her hand stilled on his stomach. “Ask properly.”
Oh, she was playing dirty.
“Please,” Reese said. “Fucking touch me. Now.”
Grace smiled. Victorious. She then unzipped his pants and pulled him out, wrapping her hand around him in a way that made Reese stop thinking entirely.
She stroked him slowly. Deliberately. Watching his face the whole time while Monopoly pieces scattered around them with each movement of his hips.
“Stay still,” Grace reminded him. “Or we start over.”
Impossible. Staying still was impossible when she was—
“Grace—” Her name came out strangled. “I’m going to—”
“Not yet.” Her hand slowed.
Oh, she was enjoying this. The power. The control. Turning the tables on him completely.
Fine. Two could play that game.
Reese sat up in one quick motion. Grace yelped as he grabbed her waist, flipped their positions, pinning her to the floor.
“All right, that’s enough,” he said. “Time I got a turn.”
Grace looked up at him, flushed and startled and so beautiful it hurt.
“That’s cheating,” she said breathlessly.
“Hey, you said it. We’re just winging the rules now, remember?” Reese grabbed a handful of Monopoly money. Let it flutter down onto her chest. Her stomach. “Now I’m buying you.”
He pulled her dress over her head. More Monopoly money scattered across her skin. Grace lay there in just her underwear, breathing hard, eyes heavy with want.
“Regent Street,” Reese said, placing a house on her collarbone. “Oxford Street.” Another on her sternum. “Bond Street.” One more, just above her nipple. “I’m building a monopoly.”
“Just another day for you,” Grace breathed, squirming under him.
“Sure it is.” He set a hotel between her breasts. “See? Full set.”
Her nipples were hard. Peaked. Perfect. Reese placed Chance cards on each one, watching Grace’s breathing hitch.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Frustrated.”
“Good.” He kissed her, deep and thorough. Then he pulled back. “Now you know how I felt.”
Grace glared at him. Then she reached over and grabbed a card, placing it against the hardest part of him. “Go To Jail.”
Reese shoved it away, slipped a condom on and pulled her underwear to the side, settling between her thighs.
He looked down at her, spread out beneath him.
Long legs, small breasts with peaked nipples, the slight curve of her hips, pink-blond hair tangled around her face.
Her skin was pale, unmarked except for a small scar on her knee.
No tan lines. No artifice. Just Grace, uninhibited and real.
“I’m already in prison.”
Then he thrust into her, Monopoly pieces and money scattering everywhere.