Lark lay perfectly still under Max who kept her pinned to the ground. The sound of Ollie and Johan wrestling over the flag Ollie had no right to touch, a soundtrack to their own battle.
“Chère, you tried to shoot me in the d**k,” his voice was hot in her ear.
She giggled unable to stop herself. “If I was trying to shoot you in the d**k I would have. I aimed high.”
“And my ass?”
“Well, that I meant to hit.”
“And my face?”
She looked over her shoulder in alarm and noted the stain on his face. Her last shot must have grazed his face. He must have turned his head right at the last second but in order for the ball to burst it needed to have hit somewhat. “Oh god, no. Max I didn’t mean to –”
He shook his head, “this one hurt. A lot.”
“I bet,” she rolled under him to look up and wiped the
