Page 146 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

“Even for early October, the sunrise is coming soon.”

I was so buzzy on the new facets of Alex that I wasn’t the least bit tired. I knew the crash would come, and the idea of sleeping beside him held more appeal than I’d thought it would. I’d been single for so long, it seemed foreign to have someone in my space all night. We’d been sneaking around at Logan’s, then with my endless touring…

Was that why I was so into him? That we actually weren’t together most of the time so it heightened everything?

He lifted his hand to cup my head. “What’s going on in there?”

“It feels like I’ve been yours forever.”

His eyes heated. “You’ve been mine for three years, duchess. Even if you don’t want to own up to it.”

“Who says I don’t?”

“That perfect ass of yours was on fire as you ran from me that night.”

I lifted my chin. “You weren’t exactly sweet. I’m not used to wanting a man who’s insulting me even as he’s fucking me.”

His other hand came up to cradle my face and pull me down to him. “I was a fool.” His mouth landed on mine.

This time, there was no dancing around the idea of what we would be. There was only the now. Showing him what we could be seemed even more important than our usual verbal sparring.

I flipped off my shirt, and he went right for my breasts. I tipped back my head as he bit and licked and sucked every part of me. I arched my back to give him full access. No twisted clothing in the back of a car, no quick fuck fraught with the constant fight for dominance, and for once, there was no anger between us.

I didn’t know what this was. I was too afraid to ask. So, I just let myself be in the moment.

Where there had once been nothing but sunlight that day by the waterfall, we were now in the cool darkness bef

ore dawn. The heavy air of his greenhouse oasis mixed with the October air kissing my skin with each layer he peeled away.

Pieces of me.

Onion skins of armor.

His.

Mine.

Shirts, pants, socks, boots. All of them scattered around us on the large tiles until it was nothing but me and him.

Again, he drew me astride him—in a power position, which he almost never allowed. He always seemed to need to dominate me in some way. As if he was protecting me and holding me down at the same time.

This time, it was languid and unhurried. Every kiss was as if he was starved for the oxygen only I could offer. His eyes were wild with lust and something more. Something I was scared to ask for even as I chased it.

Emotions swirled in the haze of pleasure and the dreamy in-between place we never dared to step into. As he slid inside me, there was no race for the summit of pleasure. The cliff dive was as soft as a breeze, and for the first time, I didn’t fear the fall.

I believed he’d actually be there with me the whole way.

Sweat built up between our straining bodies. The slow and easy couldn’t last. Not forever. Not between us. The shift was effortless. The way he lifted his hips to get closer to me, the way he wrapped his arms around me until there was no space between us, the way he locked his blue flame gaze onto mine.

I curled my arms around his shoulders and gripped his hair.

I didn’t want it to end.

Didn’t want to lose the closeness when he realized where we were heading.

But the friction and the masterful way he owned my body destroyed the hazy limbo world and broke apart the last of my armor.

I was already lost to this insane, overwhelming love.

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