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One last bounce, and chaos erupted as Aaron’s strides came to a stop.
“Put. Me. Down.” I punctuated my words by attacking his back with my
weak fists. Judging by his lack of reaction, I doubted he was even feeling it.
“Hey.” He turned around, giving me a view of my sister, who was still
under the goal.
She might have just been scored on, but she was smiling.
Aaron continued, “I knew you were bossy, but I didn’t know you were
this violent.”
“You haven’t seen anything,” I gritted through clenched teeth while he
remained casually standing there, unaffected by the weight of the woman he
had tossed over his shoulder.
His chest shook under my hips and thighs.
Was he laughing?
The nerve of him.
The situation called for extreme measures. So, with all the skill I could
gather, I stretched down until my hand reached his backside and pinched his
butt.
Yep. I, Lina Martín, had just pinched Aaron Blackford’s butt.
And I regretted it immediately.
One, because it was Aaron’s butt cheek I had pinched. And how could I
ever come back from doing something like that when I had to see his face at
work—every working day of every week—and he’d soon become my boss?
And two, because it had been so smooth and firm that I wanted to do it a
second time, just to be sure that an ass that hard was real. I wanted to doublecheck
if a butt could really have that many muscles.
And that, together with reason one, made me question my sanity.
As that spun in my head, I realized that Aaron had noticed my unfriendly
pinch. I knew because he had instantly frozen. My fake boyfriend’s body—
which was still underneath my hips, stomach, and legs—had gone very, very
still from the moment my fingers came into contact with his ass.
Tempted to pinch him again to check if he was breathing or if I had
shocked him as much as I had myself, I waited.
With astonishing care, his hands moved to my waist. Aaron lifted me
from his shoulder, positioning my front against his chest, still holding me so
my feet wouldn’t touch the grass. Our heads were at the same level, our gazes
irremediably meeting.
His face was this unreadable blank mask again, as if I had pinched all