The arms of Gezza shook, and he took Mia to her bed, her legs clung around his waist, the hot flesh of the girl touching his own.
Her vanilla-rose perfume filled his nostrils, and combined with the lavender light of the candle in her night stand.
The fairy lights bearded on her pink walls give a dreamy finish where her blonde hair is transformed into a sparkling halo.
He placed her on the plush comforter, and in the intoxication of his triumph and disbelief his heart sank within his breast. The room was stuffy and oppressive with their combined breathing and the low creak of a bed frame.
"You are not backing down now are you?" Mia was coquet with a purr of a voice, and her blue eyes shone with carnal longing.
He reached out to her lacy panties barely clung to her hips, her curves shining in the faint light. The breath of Gezza stopped--all of her was a dream, even more exquisite than his posters in the basement.
"Hell no", he croaked, his voice coarse with desire, His hands trembling to the slip of her panties down, the lace playing on her thighs to bare him up.
His vision was as though a blow, his erection painedly high.
"Like what you see, Gezza?" she said, leaning her elbows, and her lips curling in a wicked smile.
She was speaking more in fun, when the fire in her eyes was not natural, but born of the illusion in the book. "Come on, show me what you've got."
Her sentence was a challenge, the perv in Gezza creaked to its feet, his insecurity was drowned in the magic that made him run through his blood.
He got up on the bed, the mattress strain under his weight, and kissed her, and their tongues were dancing together in a sloppy, desperate fashion.
Her lips, sweet mint and latte, flowed through his mouth, and her gases were pressed against his lips.
His hands were cruising over her body; they were touching along the dotted line of her waist, the plumpness of her breasts, her skin hot and sweating.
"Fuck, Mia, you are perfect", he said, with his voice deepened, and his fingers touching her nipples, which caused her to moan sharply and shoot a jolt right to his heart.
She bent into him, her nails drawing fire on his back through his hoodie.
"You talk too much", she teased, and the heat of her breath on his neck was much too much, so she pulled his hoodie off, falling softly on the floor with a thud.
Her fingernails scratched as her hands went down his chest. Gezza groaned, the air cold on his heated flesh, and the grin of Mia became predatory.
"Need you inside me", she said, and pulled him nearer... her legs parting to receive him.
He crept down into her, taking time to feel just how firmly and slickly she gripped on to him, an experience that would have blinded him so strong was it.
Goddamn, he swore, gasping, and his hips were reacting naturally, each stroke drawing a moan of low pain out of her.
Her body replied, and she was rocking against him, her walls contracting with each movement as though she were moulded to him.
"You feel... so fucking good", he growled, and his voice was savage, and his thrusts were increasing in intensity, in depth, and the bed was creaking along with their bodies.
Gasps gave way to whimpers and Mia clung to his shoulders with her hands and scratches her nails like crescent patterns into his flesh.
"Faster, Gezza", she said, her voice a mottled cry of need and command, her blond hair flyaway around the pillow like a halo out of control. "Don't hold back."
Her words kindled him, and he followed her, his strokes unremitting, and each one of them scraping her walls with a sharpness which he was not conscious of having.
The damp and rhythmic beat of their bodies, the scraping noise the bed frame made, and the increasing screams of her.
Her smell, sweat,roses, raw desire, twisted about him, and the fairy lights faded into a fog of stars and he lost himself in her.
she was writhing under him, and her body was pleading with him, her moans a requisition. The satisfaction was drunken, more diving than the delight, and it was reality, and made his revengeful passion her fixation.
Before he could say another word, she screamed his name, with a low voice, a grin tearing his face in half as he punched harder.
"Ah... yes. Fuck me", She moaned, in a breathy voice, as her eyes rolled back up with that unnatural satisfaction.
She dragged him down, and kissed him furiously, her tongue in his, her nails tearing his head.
It was a storm of pleasure, winding round his very being, and he heard her walls throb around him, and her cries were rising to their climax, and he was almost at her brink.
To Gezza, his climax was a freight-train, a white-hot blast that caused him to gasp and his body to tremble when he emptied himself into her.
Mia trembled under him and her moans turned into a contented sigh, her body shining under her sweat, her bosom swelling against his.
The bed creaked as they fell together, SO thick with lavender and the musky reek of their frenzy.
The beating of Gezza, his mind reeling. He had fucked Mia Larson, The second in the playbook.
A goddamn miracle Book had made his sleazy dreams come true again.
Mia curled up against him, her breath was hot in his neck, her fingers coming in circles on his chest in a lazy way.
"Gezza, you are something different", she muttered, her voice gentle, almost tender, and yet with that same Playbook-hotness.
He smilied, and as smug as hell, prepared to revel in the glory. Yet there was a chill of something prickling his skin, Mia was touching his jaw with her lips, and he was on the point of drawing her into the second round, when the bedroom door flew open with a bang.
"What the hell--what the hell--" a woman screamed, and it was a shrewd, indicting screech. Gezza stood still, heart sinking in his chest, and looked in the doorway to see a brunette, with her mouth open in disbelief.
Younger, perhaps twenty, with the sharp cheekbones of Mia, and a more fierce scowl. Her sister? The similarity was too close, but her look was undiluted poison.
Mia screamed and pulled the comforter off of them, but it was too late--they were caught, sweaty and entangled,