Page 108 of Play the Game

My mouth begs to be on hers.

“Because we’re not real,” she finally says. “This isn’t real.”

I press myself into her again, and she gasps. The only thing that is keeping me from making her mine is the thin silk of her panties and my sweats. I catch her chin with my hand when she tips her head back with pleasure. I zero in on her mouth and make it my job to show her that what's happening in this current moment is as real as it gets.

“This is every bit of real, baby.”

I press my mouth to hers, and suddenly, everything feelsright.

She’s as eager as I am. Her legs fall open when our lips touch, and she gives me the silent go ahead to explore every inch of her mouth. Our tongues intertwine, and our kiss grows deeper. The softest, sexiest whimper moves within our kissing, and I can’t keep my hands to myself.

I keep kissing her, only stopping to take a quick breath, and pull her panties down her legs. Her hands fall to my biceps, and I flex beneath her grip because just the touch of her against me sends me into a fucking frenzy.

“This…” I groan, sticking a finger inside her, “is real.”

She curves her body, and I lift her shirt. Her breasts are perfect. I blow on one nipple, and when it puckers, I give it a quick flick of my tongue.

“Emory.”

“Yes, wife?” I’m breathless.

She tightens against my finger.Fuck me.

“You were telling the truth. You do like it when I call youwife.”

Her body moves against my hand, and I’m in awe, watching her completely let loose in front of me. It’s mesmerizing. Making her mine feels an awful lot like I’ve won the Stanley Cup.

“You’re beautiful like this.” I say it without even registering how intimate it sounds. Scottie’s cheeks flush an even darkershade of pink, and I bend down to kiss her again and again until she can’t hold on any longer.

My hand falls to her mouth when she cries out, because although the only thing I can think about is how I want to live in this moment forever, I remember my parents are down the hall.

“Fucking beautiful,” I mutter, watching her eyelashes flutter.

The blue of her eyes is electrified, and I swear when she drops her attention to my mouth, they grow wild.

“You wanted me to act like your wife, right?” she whispers, still moving against my hand to ride out her high.

There’s a slight edge to her voice that is sexy as fuck. A quick flick of my chin is all I give her. I’m frozen when she reaches down in between us and slowly pulls my hand out from between her legs. My finger is covered by her, and I’m obsessed with it.

Crazed, even.

“Well, go ahead, then,” she whispers, lying there for the taking. “Treat me like your wife.”

Forty-Five

SCOTTIE

I’m goingto regret this.

I know it.

When this is all said and done and we’ve made it to the end of our contract, I’m going to miss the way he makes me feel. I’m going to miss the fire in his touch when he grazes a hand down my arm. And I’m especially going to miss the eagerness in his eyes when he’s taking care of me.

Not just in this way.

But in other ways too.

“You want me to treat you like my wife?” Emory’s brow line deepens, and his jaw tightens. “You sure about that?” he asks.

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