Page 70 of Dirty Player

I spin, my eyes casting around the parking lot, and hiss back. “Not here.”

“Yes, here,” he demands, then sighs, knowing I’m right. “Come back to mine. We need to talk.”

I cross my arms, snuggling my icy hands into my coat. “Levi.” I sigh. “Look, I just think we’ve gone as far as we can. As far asIcan.”

He stares back, his face almost expressionless. God, I wish he didn’t have such a damn poker face.

Blink.

Blink.

In my head I’m screamingsay something Levi. Tell me you love me. Or that you just want to fuck me. Fucking tell me where I stand.

“I missed you at Thanksgiving,” he finally says. His voice is soft, and I feel my heart skip a beat and walls start to melt.

Emotion flickers in his eyes and hope blooms in my chest.

“I should’ve replied.” I glance away, trying to weaken the effect Levi has on me.

“You should’ve been with me,” Levi says, and I draw in a breath.

He’s never said anything like that before, and I’m taken aback.

What does that mean?

“What?” My voice barely audible. “What...what are you saying Levi?”

“I’m saying...you should’ve been sitting beside me at our family table and in my bed.” He takes half a step forward. “Come home with me. Please.”

Emotion plows through me as my arms fall to my sides, letting him in.

Levi wanted me there with his family? That means something.

Doesn’t it?

God, this man moves as slow as a goddamn snail. But if I love him, and I think I stupidly do, then perhaps I just need to give him time to work it out.

As my head starts nodding, Levi glances around, then tugs me to him, crushing his mouth down on mine.

He’s still hiding you.

Shut up, brain.

My stomach swirls with all those butterflies I get every time he touches me, and I ignore the warning whispering in the back of my mind.

“Get your sexy ass to my house now. I’ve missed it.” He groans.

My core clenches knowing what he’s promising me and that he will deliver. But I wonder...did he miss my ass?

Or me?

Then Levi kisses me firmly once more, shoots me a grin and strides over to his Maserati and throws his bag in the trunk.

“Go. Get in the car.” He laughs.

I smile and head to my vehicle, but when the door closes, I sit still for a long moment, wondering why something doesn’t feel quite right.

When I arrive, the pin code to his penthouse works, and I step inside. Levi is in the kitchen leaning against the counter, swiping on his phone.

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