Free Hour by Hour (Games & Diversions #2) by Natalie E. Wrye Page A

the candles on the tabletops, setting everything on fire, huh?
     
    The Asshole:
    I figure what the hell. We could use the wax…
     
    I want to laugh… but my heart starts to race. A Daytona 500 contest is happening beneath my breast, and I can’t seem to do anything to stop it.
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    I’m sure MY date wouldn’t appreciate that.
     
    The Asshole:
    You’re on a date?
     
    I cross my legs underneath the table, using a hand to rearrange my wine glass. I glance at the person sitting on the other side of my table.
    My fingers freeze.
    Almost a minute passes by.
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    Yes.
     
    The Asshole:
    Are you enjoying this date?
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    Yes.
     
    The Asshole:
    Is he making you laugh?
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    Yes.
     
    The Asshole:
    Do you want him to fuck you the way that I fuck you?
     
    My phone drops in my lap.
    My nerves are shot , my already shaky fingers made even worse by my galloping heart that is making it hard to concentrate on anything else.
    Lukas’s text takes me from nervous territory straight into a pre-mature Parkinson’s.
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    That’s none of your business.
     
    The Asshole:
    It is.
    The second you let me between your legs, you MADE it mine.
     
    Warmth spreads between my thighs. I’m taken aback.
    I’ve met “Asshole” Lukas, and I’ve met “Computer Whiz” Lukas. This ?
    This must be “ Possessive ” Lukas.
    And like all the other versions of Lukas Griffin, he is just as aggravating … and twice as sexy.
    Hell , the “Just Breathing” Lukas is completely mouthwatering. How can I resist this latest Lukas?
    But he’s wrong. He’s so wrong .
    In the real world, making love to him gives him no “say” or input as to whom else my love life involves.
    But in this suspended universe, this transient world that I’ve been living in ever since I crawled into this beautiful bastard’s bed, the guidelines are different.
    The rules are suspended.
    The punishments are what I make them.
    And when the bastard beckons, “this world’s” Elena obeys … at least until the ultimately damned dream world comes tumbling down—which it may, at any moment.
    I excuse myself from the table, rushing to the restrooms so that I can hyperventilate in peace. I’m sweating through my white button-down shirt by the time I manage to even walk away.
    And when I hit the bathroom door, I push inside of it, leaning next to the knob while I gather my wits.
    I slide my sweaty glasses back up the bridge of my shiny nose. I poke hesitantly on the screen held tightly in my hands.
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    What do you want out of this, Lukas?
     
    I wait. Seconds pass… then a minute. I suspect an answer will never come until I hear an unexpected ping from my phone.
     
    The Asshole:
    Isn’t it obvious?
    You, Elena.
    That’s all I know right now. I have to be honest with you…
    I’m just taking this step by step, hour by hour…
     
    Fire-breathing Dragon:
    More like minute by minute for me.
     
    The Asshole:
    Then let me give you what we both want, what we both fucking need.
     
    The magical ellipses start to take shape.
     
    The Asshole:
    Where are you?
    I’m coming to you.
    Right now.
    I’m coming to Memphis.
     
    His words steal my breath.
    I suddenly feel claustrophobic within the confines of the dimly lit restroom.
    I need to get out.
    I swing the doors open to exit and find myself staring at the back of a familiar set of broad shoulders.
    It’s a man, exiting the restroom adjacent to mine.
    He is dark-haired.
    He is tall.
    And… he is completely unaware of my presence.
    He turns, but I don’t let him get far. My hand shoots out without pause, tapping him before I can withdraw it.
    “No need to come to Memphis,” I find myself saying.
    “Turn around.”
     

Raising the Stakes

    There is no sympathy in poker. Always keep cool. If you lose your head, you will lose all your chips. – William J.