Free James Games by L.A Rose Page A

the hard contours of his chest, my nose inches from his shocked expression, and thanks to the positioning of my lady parts, I can feel exactly what happens when he notices how very naked I am.
    “Are you okay?” he asks, which is not the first thing I expected to hear from the mouth of doesn’t-care-about-nobody, too-good-for-everybody James Reid.
    “Since you caught me, yes,” I manage.
    He nods, still beneath me, the damp grass soaking into my knees. “Good. Now get the fuck off and try not to fall out of the sky next time someone’s walking below you.”
    There it is. The assholery he’s famous for, the kind the press loves to burn him for but he still gets away with it because he’s such a damn fine actor. And because he’s so damn fine. 
    I’m about to tell him exactly why I’ve plotted his murder eight different ways since last week when Amber sticks her head out the window.
    If she sees me naked on top of James Reid in the beer-soaked grass, she will break several world records in how quickly it takes to decapitate someone.
    I spin James in front of me and shove him into the bush. Fortunately, there are no thorns or hobos. Just facefuls of branches and leaves. James is too stunned to speak—it’s not every day that a world-famous actor gets shoved into a bush by a naked college freshman—and I take advantage of his silence, pushing him into the dirt on his back and covering his mouth with my hand.
    “Fiona?” Amber yells above us, blood in her voice.
    I took further advantage of James’s involuntary silence to tell him off. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me who you were. Do you have any idea how much trouble you got me into?” I hiss just loudly enough for him to hear.
    “Are you down there, Fiona? Everyone’s waiting for you.”
    I stab my thumb upwards. “Do you hear that? That is the sound of my death. If she finds out I slept with you, I am fucked. And not the good kind.”
    Amber finally lets out a frustrated grunt and lets the window slam shut. I take my hand from James’s mouth. He sits up slowly, still cover-photo gorgeous even with twigs in his messy dark-blonde hair. His storm-blue eyes are burning, and when he opens his mouth, I know that I’m about to get it.
    Instead, he kisses me.
    Hard, like fire, like a whiplash, his lips sear into mine, knocking the breath from me. Like lightning he has me on my back, pinning me into the dirt like how I had him barely seconds ago. His mouth ranges over my neck, toward my breasts, and as my head falls back and I gasp, as I fumble to feel him with my free hand and we tear at each other like two starving lions finally loosed, I realize that life really is all about choices.
    At this particular moment, my choice is between A: getting hazed to death and B: getting it on with James Reid. Again.
    Then again, sometimes your body makes choices for you.
    I let my head fall back, gasping as branches press into my back and James Reid presses into my front. The sight of me naked has put a wild look in his eyes. And the sight of that wild look fills me with fire. I forget about Sigrid, forget about everybody. All I want is his hands, his skin on my skin. Yet again, he’s flicked my crazy switch.
    But no. I swore I wouldn’t do this again.
    “Get off me, you crazy bastard,” I grunt, gearing up for a shove, but he notes my resistance and sits back immediately. There are twigs in his more-tousled-than-usual hair, and the moonlight lines his whole body with silver. My mouth waters, but I slurp the saliva back. Stop it, Fiona.
    He actually gives his head a little shake, like a punch-drunk dog trying to get water out of its ears. It’s adorable and unexpected. And I realize that he’s as much of a victim to this insane force between us as I am.
    “Why are you naked?” he finally asks, his eyes narrowing. “Put some damn clothes on.”
    “I’ll be naked if I want to be naked, thank you very much.”
    He starts to stand, but I grab his collar and