Page 110 of Gamebreaker

"My turn."

She caught my hands. "You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Most people don't bother." She said it simply, like a statistic, like it was a fact about her she'd stopped noticing. "They let me take care of them. That's how it goes."

My heart squeezed again. I thought about everybody who'd been in her bed had let her do all the work and then gone home, and how she'd decided that was just how it went.

"Well," I said, "I'm not most people. I'm a lot more annoying."

The laugh that came out of her mouth seemed to surprise her. I loved that I could do that.

"Please," I said. "Let me."

She looked at me for a long moment, doing the math. Then she leaned back against the headboard, spread her legs, and folded her arms behind her head.

"Five minutes," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"You get five minutes. Then you're mine again."

"That's not how taking turns works."

"It's how it works here." Her eyes glittered. "Clock's running."

I scrambled between her legs so fast I nearly elbowed her in the knee.

I put my mouth on her, and she exhaled, long and slow, through her nose. I wanted more than that. I wanted to dismantle her composure the way she'd taken mine apart, so I went slow, the way she had, learning her. Where she was sensitive. What made her thighs tense. What made her breath catch. Found it. Did it again. And again.

Her hand came down into my curls. Not pulling. Just resting there.

I slid two fingers into her and curled them, remembering exactly how she'd done it to me, and her hips lifted off the bed.

"Fuck," she said. "Harper."

Oh, I liked that. I liked that a lot. I did it again. She was getting close. I could feel it from the way her thighs started to tremble, hear it in the low rough sounds she was trying and failing to swallow. Her hand tightened in my hair.

So I stopped. Pulled back. Looked up at her with my most innocent face.

"Oops," I said.

Her eyes snapped open, golden and dangerous.

"Payback," I said sweetly. "You made me wait. Now it's your..."

She moved.

I didn't even see it happen. One second I was between her legs feeling extremely proud of myself, and the next I was flat on my back with both wrists pinned in one of her hands above my head and her whole long body stretched over mine, and she was looking down at me like I was the most entertaining disaster she'd ever witnessed.

"Time," she said.

"That was not five minutes."

"It was four and a half. Thirty-second penalty for getting greedy." She shifted her grip, transferred my wrists to the mattress, and pressed them down. "Leave them there."

"Or what?"