Seven by Claire Kent Page A

hers.
    What she needed was a good fuck.
    A few random comments from earlier
gave her the hint she needed. She knew exactly what kind of sex would distract
her, would get her mind off love.
    She scrambled out of the bed, her
knees wobbling a little as she stood beside it. She saw Owen’s eyes crawl
greedily over her naked body, which was marked all over now from his hands,
mouth, and teeth.
    He wanted her. He had always wanted
her. It was something—and something she should appreciate.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, his
eyes settling once more on her face. “What about number seven?”
    She put her hands on her hips,
stretching her breasts slightly and feeling a little smile at Owen’s obvious
reaction to the move. “What makes you think I’m going to make it easy for you?”
    “You certainly haven’t made it easy
for me yet. But I’m up for any challenge you throw my way.”
    Amy glanced at the clock. “We have
sixteen minutes left,” she said as a plan came together in her mind. Not a plan
to win the wager, but a plan to make her focus purely on sex. To affirm what
their relationship had always been about.
    If Owen could do it, so could she.
    “What your point? That’s more than
enough time for me to give you one more orgasm.”
    “Maybe.” She shifted her stance in
preparation. “But only if you’re able to touch me.” She saw momentary confusion
on his face, so she cleared it up for him. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
    As enlightenment dawned on his face,
Owen moved, as quickly and dangerously as a predator. But Amy had been watching
and, as soon as he pounced, she squealed and raced to the doorway.
    He was on his feet and had taken two
steps toward her. Then he called out, “Damn it, Amy. I have a raging hard-on!
You’re not actually going to make me chase you around, are you?”
    Giggling, Amy skittered down the hall
and waited. Her plan was working. She was excited, aroused, and breathing
heavily. Was indulging in absolutely no mushy feelings, despite how adorably
aggrieved he had sounded.
    He appeared out of the bedroom, took
a step into the hall—scowling, naked, and very erect.
    “You don’t have to chase me,” she
taunted. “You could always just give up and admit defeat.”
    Owen growled at her in a way that
made her shiver. Then he paced toward her, not running, but each stride long
and purposeful.
    Amy turned around and hurried into
the living room.
    She wasn’t actually planning to elude
him for long. She wanted to have sex but wanted to get them both in the proper
mood before they fucked. Running over to the other side of the room, she
planted herself behind a leather armchair.
    When Owen approached her, she darted
away, leading him first into the kitchen. Then down the hall again. Back into
the living room. And then finally where she had planned to end up all along.
    In the corner near the window. Where
she would accidentally get trapped.
    He’d cornered here now, and he stood
in front of her, looking impatient and aroused and dominant.
    Amy lost her breath at the sight of
him—but her reaction was definitely from lust and not from tenderness. She was flushed
all over but she managed to throw out some teasing insults about what a wuss he
was, just so he’d know how he was supposed to act.
    From the clock on the cable box, she
saw that they’d only wasted three minutes on the chase, which still left them
plenty of time for wild, primal fucking.
    No love here. Just sex. Nothing in
the world wrong with that.
    Amy waited until Owen approached her.
    “I believe I’ve caught you,” Owen
said in a silky voice, raking his gaze over her possessively. “I guess that
means I can touch you now.”
    “Touch me all you want. You only have
a few minutes left, and you’ve yet to prove that you’re man enough to make me
come seven times.”
    She turned her back on him, giving
him a hopefully tempting view of her ass. Waited.
    Didn’t have to wait long.
    Amy squealed with real