Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I call out. “Run!”
He smirks. “I don’t chase.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll never catch me.”
Spinning around, I race for the other side, but Army is suddenly there, in front of me. I halt, rearing back, but he catches me by the neck, a wicked smile curling his lips.
The paint from his hand is ice on my neck.
He peels my jacket off my shoulders, and I let it drop down my arms, catching it in my hand.
“You’re too old to see me naked,” I taunt him.
He arches an eyebrow. “Assuming I haven’t already …” What?
He runs, and I stand frozen for a second as naked people rush around me.
What did he say?
I shake my head and run for the safe spot.
He didn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean he’s talking about that night. It simply means he saw me naked once. Maybe he saw me on the couch the morning after. I was on my stomach, and the blanket was mostly covering me.
Mostly.
Or there was that time in June when Trace and I were in the pool alone. Really late, and we were caught up in the moment. Maybe everyone wasn’t asleep.
I land in the Jaeger garage, toss the jacket down, and check the vest for paint. Nothing is dripping through. Good. I know Liv said I could keep the outfit, but she put a lot of work into it. I’d feel bad ruining it.
A woman passes in front of me, shirtless and with her bra strap hanging down her arm, and nearly every guy is without a shirt.
The Jaegers plus Aracely stand out in the rain, ready, the music kicks on again, and some guy next to me holds up his arms.
“Go!” he shouts.
We all run. Trace tags me. I lose the hat. Dammit.
Music stops and starts again, and I run, laughing as I leap over someone on the ground, and almost make it to the other side before Aracely almost catches me on the stomach.
Three more rounds, and I lose both shoes and one sock as Dallas, Army, and Trace stalk me and I struggle to stretch this out as long as possible while everyone around me is damn near naked.
Most quit once they’re down to their underwear, only about four of us left.
Iron watches me the whole time.
“Go!” they shout again.
Music starts, we rush, more Jaegers than runners now, and it’s only a matter of time.
I splash through the puddles in the road, rain streaming down my face. Army sees me, stops, and looks like he’s about to give chase. I stumble.
Right into Trace’s arms.
He laughs, squeezing my ass in both hands.
I push, squirming out of his hold until he lets me go.
“You don’t get to touch me there anymore!” I fire back at him.
“Yeah, let’s keep pretending like you made that decision.”
Asshole.
He veers around me, holding my eyes. “I want that skirt, Krisjen.”
I yank off my last sock, throwing it at him instead.
He tosses his head back, laughing up into the night sky as he runs off. “Coward!”
I shoot off for the safe zone; the music stops, and I pace in front of the opening of the garage, alone. The last three players are in the garage next to mine, and I’m guessing the nearly naked couple behind me making out behind the tool bench are done for the night.
Iron watches me, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking off any more clothes.
So why don’t I just quit?
The music blasts loud over the rain; I run, and Trace swoops toward me. I laugh so hard I almost choke, but I dive, rolling underneath him and away.
I don’t have time to see where he went before I’m locked between two legs towering over me.
Dallas stares down, holding his fist out. He squeezes, and I see red paint start to drip. I close my eyes just in time, feeling warm drops—one after another—land over the side of my mouth.
I open my eyes and glare up at him through the rain. “You should be nice to people who handle your food,” I growl.
I climb to my feet, starting to run, but all of a sudden, everyone is here.
Aracely hits my legs.
I scream.
Army splashes my back.
I suck in a breath.
Trace pinches my nose.
I rage. “What the fuck, y’all?”
I whip around.
And find myself in Iron’s arms, his painted hands gripping my waist.
That’s five. That’s more than the rest of my clothes.
Five hits. Everything else I’m wearing. More than everything, actually, as I only have three items left. Skirt, vest, and underwear.
The music plays, and Iron bites the corner of his mouth. I stare up at his lips.
“You want all these people to see me naked?” I ask him.
“You want just me to see you?”
Maybe.
If I like him, then I’ll want more, right? What will he be like when he gets out in three years?