Page 143 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

It was my own, but nearly unrecognizable.

His wild blue eyes searched mine.

“From The Barn? You recorded it?” It was our song. The raw one full of imperfections and torrential emotions.

“I pretty much record everything.”

I pulled him to a stop on the way to the small kitchenette. “Everything?”

He turned to me, our toes meeting, chests brushing. He brushed his thumb over my brow until it was smooth again. “Not everything. Some things are only for my ears, duchess. Only my memories.”

I swallowed. “Is that so?”

He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me with his eyes open. It was sweet and water-soft like the music around us. As the song deepened, so did his kiss. I twisted his shirt into my fisted hand as he opened me up for him. Took and took until I was fairly sure the oxygen in my very lungs was merely because he allowed it.

He cupped my jaw, his thumb stroking down my neck with a butterfly touch. A soft sigh came out of the speakers and reverberated through me. I echoed it with one of my own.

Then his voice layered over mine and I gasped.

He’d kept our version together.

I jerked back and he held me firm. “You listen to this a lot?”

Worry flickered in his icy blue gaze. “Too much.”

I swallowed, my fingers gentling on his shirt to lower and slide under it. His belly quivered under my touch. “Do you touch yourself while this is on?”

His jaw tightened. “I haven’t come since I was last inside you.”

My lips parted. “At all?”

“My hand isn’t ever going to be enough after I’ve been inside you, duchess.” He nipped at my chin. “Is that what you want to hear?”

I frowned. “No, I didn’t—”

He stroked his thumb down to the skewed collar of my ripped sweatshirt, pushing my jacket off one shoulder then the next. “I’m not ashamed of it.” He tipped his head, his gaze never leaving my shoulder as he connected the handful of freckles I’d added to my collection, thanks to my waterfall sunburn. He lowered his mouth to the sensitive skin between my shoulder and neck, sucking lightly, then more forcefully. Leaving a mark as always.

My nipples tightened under the ancient fabric.

He lifted his gaze to mine as he gently dragged the back of his fingers over one of the tight tips. “Do you like the idea of that, duchess?” His mouth hovered over mine. “Me wanting you so badly that I can’t think around it. That I have to listen to your voice so I can stay sane enough to work?”

Before I could answer him, he covered my mouth with his. The kiss was deeper. As if he wanted to search out and own every part of me. Not one to be passive for long, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and gripped his hair.

The kiss built until I was wrapped around him, hanging on and giving back at the same time. It was too easy to do this. To lock into the lust that spun around us like we were the eye of a storm. Trapped in this place between where things felt too much like losing control and fighting for one-upmanship.

I slowly controlled the kiss until it was softer. Until my fingers gentled in his hair to a slow, soothing stroke. He tore his mouth away from mine, his chest heaving.

“What are you about, Lindsey?”

“I’m about finding the real Alex in there. Not just the wild, hammering need. We know how to do that. We’re good at that.”

His fingers dug into my hips. “Very good at it.” His gaze dipped to my mouth then back to my eyes.

“I know we’re more.”

The flash of fear made me wrap my other arm around his back to hold him close. I could feel him wanting to step back. It was easier to put the emotions in a box. Easier to walk into the blinding bolts of lust.

But here, the shadows of emotion were more difficult to navigate. I knew I had to be the first one to give. I was just as untested when it came to this. The few relationships I’d had in my life were very surface.

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