A Game of Hearts and Heists: A Steamy Lesbian Fantasy Romance (Girl Games Book 1)

Stirling and I spent the evening packing the living room, boxing our meagre belongings and binning anything we weren’t going to keep. When I finally crawl to bed exhausted, it’s Quinn I’m thinking of.

That fucking skirt she wore, the way her breasts bulged out the top. The sharp lines of her undercut. It was torture trying not to stare at her curves, her arse, the way she leant on that fucking counter. I swear she did it on purpose. My neck and traps ache from physically restraining myself. All I could think of was pinning her to the counter and fucking her until she sobbed with pleasure. As I roll over and drift off to sleep, it’s with fury in my heart; I still don’t have new clients. I’m livid I’ve had to accept Quinn on the team. And so horny I swear my clit is swollen. As sleep drags me under, it’s Quinn I dream of, and instead of walking out of her shop, I stay, do exactly what I wanted…

“You want me,” Quinn says. Her deep green eyes boring into me, a glint curving her gaze. It sends fire through me. She sets me alight. My nerve endings burn and throb. How dare she presume such a thing.

“I want to kill you. Destroy your business,” I say, heat laced through the words.

“Liar,” she says, and her tongue wets her plump lips. I want them. I need them tracing smouldering kisses over my skin.

“You want to take me on this counter and fuck me until the only name I ever scream is yours,” Quinn says, her gaze so intense it makes my body vibrate. She hops onto the counter.

I march forward. One pace, two. Three. The space between my thighs hot and slick. Desperate for me to do as she says. To submit myself to her. Take her on the counter and taste her. Make her mine. Make her beg for everything I will give her.

“Tell me you need me,” I say.

Her gaze darkens, a twisted smile curving the corner of her mouth.

“Beg.” It’s a demand.

This makes her smile harder. She shakes her head and jumps up on the counter, her floaty skirt lifting and flashing a hint of flesh and lace. I’m instantly wet. My legs and neck are tight, straining to hold me back.

Quinn brushes her freshly cut hair, nudging the curls aside. The lines of her neck are smooth, her skin bare, empty, begging to be ravaged.

Her hand slips down her front to her thick thighs. I suck in a breath. Slowly, torturously slowly, she pushes the hem of her skirt up.

With each millimetre her skirt rises, her eyes never leave mine. Her expression darkens until her fingers nudge the lace aside and she parts her molten core.

I can’t take it.

I’m on her.

My hands grip her thighs, pulling her toward me, toward the edge of the counter. I shove my way closer, and she responds by wrapping her legs around my waist, locking her feet so I can’t escape. My lips meet her neck, fast and hungry, smothering her skin in kisses and bites. She smells like summer gardens and herbs, like deep, heady lust. I want her. I need to take her.

I nip the skin at her throat. She moans under me, wrapping her arms around me and digging her nails deep into my flesh. The sting sends pulses of pleasure down my spine. I pull her chin around. Push my lips over hers. They’re so soft, warm. She tastes like honey and cinnamon, like fire and magic. She pushes her tongue inside my mouth and it drives me wild.

She pulls my skin-tight top and sports bra off. Exposing my nipples to the air. Her mouth drops to the hardening nibs. Her teeth scrape the buds, and I can’t help but let out a guttural moan. My hands grasp her arms tighter.

I slip one hand to her leg, inch it up slowly, slowly. Teasing her the same way she did me. The heat increases the closer I get to her lace. She releases me and slips her top off. Her bra is lacey, her brown nipples peaking out.

“Say it.” It’s a command. I’m not messing around anymore. I need her. Need to taste her.

She grins at me. Places her hands on my shoulders and pushes me until I’m kneeling in front of her. All I have to do is lean forward, pull her knickers, and I’ll lay her bare. My tongue will make her come undone.

I just need her to say it.

“Do you want me?” she says.

“Don’t play games with me, Quinn.”

She closes her legs, hitches her bottom up, and takes her lace panties off. She dangles them in front of me.

“I want you,” she says, “to tell me exactly how much you want me. Tell me how much you want my cunt.” And she drops her panties to the floor.

I’m soaked between my legs, my whole body quivering with need.

“Well?” she says. She leans down, her breasts threatening to escape the lace fabric. I need all of her. To own her. Dominate her. Desire consumes me, fuelling my body like oxygen and fire.

She cocks her head, leans back, and spreads her thighs.

I inhale a sharp breath. The flowing fabric of her skirt covering her flesh. I want to see her, to touch every millimetre of her skin and savour every kiss. I want to feel her clench around my fingers, knowing I’ve made her body melt.

“SCARLETT?” A voice cuts through the reverie.

“Show me,” Quinn says and pulls me between her spread legs.

I’m shaking. My body is rocking. But it’s not Quinn. She’s not touching me.

“Scarlett? Get the fuck up.”

I peel my eyes open. My whole body still aching from sleep, from the dream. From the need.

“What’s your problem?” Stirling says. “You look like… actually, I’m not sure what you look like. But it’s time to get up.”

She takes a bite of an apple.

“Where the hell did you get that?” I ask. Fruit is expensive, we don’t normally keep it in the house.

“I know a girl,” she winks at me.

I rub my face, the fragments of Quinn’s sultry voice and her demands slipping from my consciousness.

“I need a minute,” I say, trying to work out whether I’m furious about the dream or disappointed it’s over.

“Hurry up, we’ve got shit to do today.” Stirling leaves and slams the door shut, and I lie down. Every time I blink, there are flashes of Quinn. Her thighs, the way her hand slipped up her dress. The way her mouth curved around my breasts. Her hands gripping my shoulders, demanding I fuck her.

“Fuck’s sake.” I slip my fingers beneath my pyjama waist band and over my pussy. Like the dream, I’m soaked. What is wrong with me, that my enemy can arouse me like this? I close my eyes, but all I see is Quinn. Her beautiful evergreen eyes. Stupid curves I want to drown in. My body stiffens as I move my hands over and over myself. I’m not gentle. I ravage my core harder, faster, rubbing the rage away, the fury that she could do this to me. How dare she. But no matter how many times I close my eyes, try to blink Quinn away, it’s her I think of as my clit swells and throbs and tips me over the edge until I’m riding a wave of ecstasy, of her. It’s Quinn my body aches for as I lie back in bed and grunt out a frustrated moan.

“I have to end her. Forget trying to screw her business. I’ll kill her instead. No one gets this much power over me,” I’m mumbling to myself, but Stirling has reappeared at the door, her arms folded as she leans against the frame with a pinched expression on her face.

“Oh dear, The Poisoner’s really got her claws into you, hasn’t she?” she says and takes another bite of her apple.

Cocky twat.

“Don’t you have some deal to go negotiate, supplies to source?” I say as I stand up.

“It’s not me you’re pissed at. Are you sure you can keep the feelings at bay?”

“I don’t have any feelings,” I bark at her.

But she tuts at me. “Scarlett. You know I was joking, right? I don’t actually think you should go down the path of luring her in only to fuck her over…”

“Too bad it was a good idea, and now I can’t let go.”

Stirling rubs her forehead. “Er, no. It’s a terrible one. All that’s going to happen is you’ll bring her in and fall for her and then not be able to go through with it.”

At this I march up to her. “I am a trained Assassin. A fucking High Assassin, no less. I don’t have feelings. They took them all away. I’m dead on the inside, like she will be when I’m done with her.”

Stirling sniffs and shakes her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You can still walk away from this. Don’t mess with her. Why don’t you… oh, I dunno. Be happy and date her?”

“How can you say that? You’re supposed to be my sister. She’s screwing with our lives. Our businesses. She needs to pay.”

Stirling kicks off the frame. “Does she though? Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself be happy? That legacy and status isn’t everything. That being in love is enough?”

I snort. “Coming from the biggest player I know?”

She looks at me with a pained expression, her eyes dropping to the floor.

“You don’t want to hurt her, Scar. For once, let it be.”

“I’ll be happy when I’m standing on the carcass of her business as High Assassin, holding the keys to our mansion.”

“It’s your funeral.” Stirling walks off and out the front door, slamming it as she goes. She doesn’t look back.

She’s wrong.

Obviously.