Page 77 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

He took back the empty bottle and sighed before tucking it away. Now he had both empties in his pockets.

Alexander Nash was many things, but he wasn’t a litterer. Too bad he wasn’t a magician who could produce more water.

Cocking my head, I glanced at the waterfall. Hmm. That could do wonders for cooling me off. It would also restore the equilibrium between us.

He thought I was the only thirsty one, huh? Well, we’d just see about that.

I rolled out my yoga mat and quickly shed my socks and sneakers. Followed by my sports bra—including Nash’s small roll of dollar bills—and training shorts.

“What the hell are you… Lindsey.”

The strangled quality of his voice delighted me in unspeakable ways.

Ignoring him, I checked my braids were still intact. All good. I moved to the edge of the water and stuck a toe in.

I shivered. It wasn’t warm, that was for sure, but I could handle it. I’d handled worse.

I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t too many slithery things. I’d spent time in oceans and held my own, but I couldn’t say I loved all sea life when it was winding around my calves.

Ick.

I sat on the bank and slid my legs into the water, watching carefully that nothing that belonged on the cover of some aquatic magazine paddled past. The water had decent depth too. It wouldn’t cover my whole body, but probably enough that I wouldn’t be indecent if Alex’s detested photographers crept out of the woods.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped under the surface. And squealed like a little bitch.

“Oh my God. Seriously? Seriously?”

Alex stood on the bank with the sun slanted behind him, adding a halo he so didn’t deserve. But hell if my nipples didn’t tingle—and not just from the water.

“Anyone could come by.”

That was a true statement. The fact that the water only came up to the bottom of my breasts unless I ducked way down would give them a show if they did.

I stretched my arms over my head, just for the sheer pleasure of watching his eyes glaze over. “So, get in here and protect me.”

I’d said it to be obnoxious. Like he would. He didn’t seem to be the spontaneous type in that way. Doing something just for fun? When you might get caught?

Nope. Forget about it.

I didn’t expect him to kick off his boots and socks then go for his sweats. I definitely didn’t think he’d hesitate at his boxers before yanking them off too. And he didn’t do a careful slide into the water as I had.

He fucking jumped in, splashing me and everything else. So, naturally, I squealed again.

“Quiet, duchess.” He covered my mouth with his absurdly big hand. The other moved between my legs.

So much for warming me up.

The ridiculous thing was that I already was. Just looking at him, and insulting him, and those smirks and eyebrow lifts of his were enough to get my motor running.

“You encourage me to do very bad things,” he said against my ear.

I panted against the hand he held over my mouth. Then I scraped my teeth over his palm. He swore, but he didn’t let me go. And his other hand turned ruthless between my thighs.

At first, he’d just toyed with me. Circling my clit, flicking it. After I sort of bit him? He started rubbing in mad circles that should have made me knee him in the balls. Too much friction, too fast.

But somehow it wasn’t. Not with him, not here.

I rocked into his palm, full on gasping now. My wet breasts and diamond-hard nipples dragged over his chest with every movement. He groaned, his teeth sinking into my earlobe as he dipped a finger, then two, inside me.

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