Gage grunts out a laugh behind me, and I kick him in the shins without even needing to turn around. That laughter immediately turns into a pained wheeze. “Oops,” I deadpan as Foster cackles. “My leg slipped.” Rough hands grab at my sides, but before I can fight back, his fingers race up and down my ribs and stomach. Tickling me. This fucker is tickling me. Someone is going to pay in blood. “Gage!” I squeal as laughter bubbles up in me, his fingers finding a particularly ticklish spot. His pine scent surrounds me as he pulls me against his chest, his fingers still skimming my sides. “Sorry,” he
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Bahahaha
