Page 152 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

It got worse with each day.

I wanted to strangle him.

I wanted to fuck him.

I wanted to kiss him and hold onto him.

I wanted to fix him.

And that was dangerous in so many ways.

He brought the shirt to his nose and inhaled. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to change my sheets or wash this shirt. I like your scent on me.” He licked his lips. “All over me.” He tried to pull me up higher on his chest. “I want more of it. Always.”

My head spun. “You make me crazy when you say stuff like that.”

“Only right since I’ve been fucking insane since I met you, duchess.”

I caged him in with my hands on either side of his head. “We make each other insane. But it’s more than that, Alex.”

His eyes were wary, but he didn’t dispute it. And that would be enough for now. Everything between us was still brilliant and chaotic. I brushed his lips with mine. He tasted of me and rumpled sheets. Of too little sleep and perfection.

He tasted mine.

I nipped my way over his jaw to his ear. “Put your cock inside me, Alex.”

He growled and slipped his hands between us. “Fuck you, duchess? Isn’t that what you mean?”

“No.”

He stilled.

“I want more than that.” My arms shook with nerves. I wanted him to make love to me—with me. I was being a coward, but I wasn’t sure I could take him pushing m

e away right now.

I wanted him to want this.

I didn’t want to have to force him to see what was so good between us.

His eyes, flinty silver with so much endless blue in them, were vivid with some emotion I didn’t want to define. I didn’t want to be wrong.

But he had to feel it.

Please God, let him feel it.

He shoved his boxers aside and slipped into me. I sat up, so I was astride him, taking him deeper. I smoothed my hands over his chest and up to his neck. I had to fight the urge to drive myself up and over that precipice that was still so close. I was pretty sure the anger and passion would always war within us, but for now I wanted only the joy.

We deserved it.

He stroked his fingers down my arm to my wrist, and finally, to my hand. Lacing his fingers with mine, he rose up to meet my mouth in a long, silky, drugging kiss. He wrapped his other arm around my back, and we moved like air and water.

Tender and gentle with one another.

His jagged pieces were met with my curves and softness.

My need matched his.

We were a twisted jungle of vines in the center of his bed. Sweat and laughter rushed up between us. He sucked his way up my neck and pushed my hair out of the way so he could tug on my ear.

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