Page 61 of Endgame

“Oh god.” I’m seeing stars. He’s filthy, and I can’t wait to get dirty with him.

The feeling consumes me, causing my nipples to turn to peaks, starving for the smallest touch. His teasing is close enough to my aching core I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm draw near.

Until he moves away again, setting out on a new destination—one that will leave me breathless the same.

My head is thrown back into oblivion, long brown hair grazing the bathroom mirror, as I give my body over to his touch and let myself enjoy him.

The way his eyes follow his every movement tells me he’s enjoying touching me.

We know this thing between us can’t happen—but the teasing distracts my mind from the roadblocks striving to stand in our way.

Would it really be so bad? One time might be enough for us, and then we can agree to move on cordially.

But I don’t think that’s possible—at least for me.

I can confidently say I know he’s ruined me for any other man. That thought terrifies me.

“You’re mine, Dakota.” He’s never been ashamed of wanting me.

It’s exhilarating to be seen by someone so passionately, the opposite being what I was accustomed to feeling.

Being needed is a much different feeling than being tolerated. I can see now the difference between being liked by a boy and loved by a man.

There’s no comparison.

“I want to be yours, Callaway. More than you know.”

My eyes open in seconds, finding the biggest smile lighting up his entire face. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it shine so vividly.

I gave him a lead. A small possibility. And he’s ready to run with it.

“That’s progress, angel. I’ll take it.”

I don’t realize he stopped his teasing touches until his hand gently reaches to tuck a strand of my wild hair behind my ear, an action he seems to love doing. My smile feels warm and comforted with my sexual desire fading.

He’s becoming so much more than a man I want to fuck and forget.

He’s constant and kind. Those traits seem to be the things that make me the weakest.

A sudden knocking on the door breaks our trance—or, I should say, breaks the bubble of possibility built around us.

We’ve been here too long.

He’s got my full attention now—there’s no way I could have ever missed him. My exterior wall is breaking, leading me to think a thought that not long ago would have never crossed my mind—I’d like to move forward with him.

Callawayand I decide to exit the bathroom one at a time to avoid any gossip, which I know will happen anyway with the length of time we’ve been gone. My freshly tousled hair is the perfect bait to feed the starving crowd of friends we have.

Entering the tavern's main room, not one person seems to notice we’ve been gone because, apparently, a new field of entertainment has stolen the moment.

It looks a lot like Tenley Abrams, and she’s about to conquer the next round. Walking up to the bingo table, I lean over her shoulder to get a good read of her board. Cal silently walks past me, taking his seat beside Bodhi.

Her final spot calls for her todo a body shot off a stranger;watching her contemplate who her lucky victim will be is hilarious.

Before I can offer up my help, she stands to attention and yells at her chosen victim. “Graves, get on the goddamn table,” pointing to the designated spot.

I’ve never seen Gus so caught off guard. His eyes are practically bulging from their sockets, and words have yet to leave his mouth. I’ve always been convinced the woman who finally locks him down will be one who surprises him.

Well, look what we have here.

---