Night Games Read Online Free PDF

woman, a woman who could cope. This man might be delusionary, but so far he didn’t seem violent. She’d just keep him occupied with a meaningful question while she figured out what to do. “Fine. I get the broad picture. How about filling in some details?”
    â€œSure.” He offered her a grin that suggested he could fill in details she didn’t know existed.
    She paused for a moment of regret.
So beautiful. So flawed.
    They’d reached the horse, and she fumbled with the halter, knowing that he was watching and angry with herself for letting his gaze affect her.
    â€œThe game’s pretty simple. The teams play every Monday night. Eleven men on each side. Two hours plus a halftime rest. The team that brings the most women to orgasm wins.”
    She sensed him moving closer, and her fumbling grew worse. “And you do this in front of an audience?”
    He shrugged. “About seventy thousand in the stadium plus a few billion in the home audience.”
    â€œBillion?” She didn’t think she could be shocked by a fantasy, but he was doing it.
    â€œThe galaxy’s a big place.”
    â€œRight. I forgot the galaxy.” She continued to fumble with the halter as the horse stood patiently chewing a mouthful of grass.
    â€œYou know, controlling large animals with low-level caren waves would be a lot simpler, but I guess you won’t have that option for a few years yet.”
    Caren waves? Time for another meaningful question. “And you perform . . . naked?” Not as meaningful as she’d hoped.
    â€œYou have a real problem with naked, don’t you?” His soft laugh slid across the back of her neck leaving a trail of goose bumps.
    Keep him talking. Don’t think about naked.
“Uh, how do you know someone isn’t cheating, faking a climax?” This was all about being strong and resourceful, and a few deep breaths would slow her heart rate just fine.
    â€œMonitors are attached to the women. Referees can check readouts of blood pressure, pulse, spasms—”
    â€œOkay, heard enough. Don’t need to hear any more.” She made one more effort to buckle the cursed halter. “Your game seems so . . . cold.”
    â€œYou’re kidding, right?” He reached around her to pull the halter up and buckle it on the horse’s head. “Nothing hotter in the universe. Believe it.”
    His heat surrounded her as her body kicked into automatic anticipation mode. You’d think after one brief contact last night her body would have forgotten his touch. No luck. She dropped her hands from the horse and clenched them at her side. Tried to ignore the press of his chest against her back, the flow of muscle and fleshshe could feel all the way to her pounding heart. But no amount of concentration could make her ignore the spread of his thighs hard against her hips, the pressure of his growing erection against . . . Uh-oh, time for another thought-provoking question.
    Finished buckling the halter, he stepped back. She turned in time to catch his assessing stare.
    â€œDon’t know how you do that, babe. You’re lethal.”
    Ally squashed a twinge of triumph. She wouldn’t be drawn into his weird fantasy. “That should be a pretty normal reaction for a man who’s had thousands of women.”
    â€œDoesn’t work that way.
I
decide when to get hard for a woman. Self-discipline. It’s important in the game. You have to pace yourself.”
    She rolled her eyes.
    â€œThat’s why I was MVP of the Sex Super Bowl.” He grabbed the horse’s lead line and started walking back up the hill toward the wagon.
    She knew it was coming. She knew it was a mistake. She said it anyway. “MVP? Most Valuable Penis?”
    He stopped and turned to stare at her. Oh lordy, had she gone too far? She hadn’t gotten any danger vibes this morning, but too late she remembered her fear from last night.
    Then he