Page 183 of The Wrong Play

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t soft.

It was desperate, possessive…full of every promise he had ever made. And as my knees went weak, as my body melted against his, I didn’t fight it.

I let him catch me.

The room was still bathed in the afterglow of what we’d just done, our breaths still uneven, the heat of Jace’s body pressingagainst mine as we lay tangled in the sheets. My head rested on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing, anchoring me in the quiet darkness. His fingers lazily traced circles on my bare back, his touch soft, unhurried.

I could have stayed like that forever.

But then I shifted, stretching slightly, and my hand brushed against his ribs.

He flinched.

I froze, my fingers barely skimming his skin. Jace Thatcher was not a man who flinched.

Frowning, and before he could stop me, I lifted myself onto my elbow, peering down at him through the dimness in the room to see if he had some bruise from football that I hadn’t noticed.

His smirk was lazy, satisfied, but his eyes flashed with something almost…nervous.

That should have been my first warning.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice still husky from multiple orgasms andhim.

“Nothing.” His grip on my hip tightened slightly, like he was trying to distract me. “Come back here, Riley-girl. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

I narrowed my eyes. He was hiding something.

And when Jace hid something, it usually meant chaos.

I pushed myself up further, shifting the sheets down his body, and that’s when I saw it.

Ink.

Of my name.

Etched onto his ribs like it had belonged there all along.

I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering. “Jace…what the hell is that?”

His lips twitched, but his hand reached for me again, like he knew I was about to freak the hell out.

“Riley, before you?—”

“You tattooed my name on your ribs?” I hissed, my palm flattening against the inked skin like I needed to confirm it was real.

And it was.

His skin was still warm from the healing process, slightly raised, the ink fresh. My full name stretched across his ribs in an elegant, bold script, right beneath the edge of his heart.

I gaped at him.

He grinned up at me like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. “I was going to wait until the right moment to show you, but…” He exhaled, cocky and completely unrepentant. “You’re evidently a nosy Nelly, babycakes.”

“Nosy? I’m nosy?” My voice pitched. “Jace, you tattooed my freaking name on your body!”

“Yeah,” he said, completely unbothered, dragging a hand through his messy golden hair. “And?”

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