Page 163 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

“I like it.”

“Maybe you should take it then?”

“Is that your kink, duchess?”

She grinned and leaned up to kiss my chin. “You’re my kink,” she said none too softly, probably so our suddenly very occupied salesclerk could hear.

“And a scarf too. How very New York fall of you.” She tugged on the jacket I held out for her, then whipped the scarf out of the bag and wrapped it around her throat. “How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

“Your underwear,” I said simply.

The salesclerk fled.

Lindsey ran her fingertips up and down the side of her neck. “Not to mention someone likes to leave reminders on my skin. I probably should buy a few more of these scarves.” She looked at the deserted sales counter and let out an actual giggle. Not a sound I heard from her often. “Although I’d probably have to check myself out.”

I slipped my arm through hers and tugged her to the door. “We’ll find out when you sit down next if I left any other reminders on your flesh.”

“Oh, I feel it now. I’m walking. Barely.” She reached around to pinch my ass before pushing me out the door into the crowded street.

We walked for what felt like forever, Lindsey pulling me into random stores that caught her eye. In one, she draped herself dramatically on a floral patterned sofa, tossing her booted legs over the arm. I had to take a photo—and save it as my lockscreen. Then I held it out of her reach when she demanded to see it.

Not in this lifetime. I’d keep my moments of sentimentality to myself, thank you.

We drank cocoa and ate falafel we purchased from a street vendor. Strolled around Rockefeller Center and talked about how soon the Christmas tree would be up in all its tourist-drawing glory.

One way or another, we found ourselves riding up to the 86th floor of the Empire State building to check out the city from the viewing deck. I kissed her with sunlight bouncing off the skyscraper windows while stars glimmered in her eyes.

Once we were back on street level, we went by one more shop. This one had denim knee-high boots in the window with chunky belt buckles around the tops. I didn’t quite get the appeal, until Lindsey strutted out wearing them with her just-fucked-in sundress.

Yeah, now my eyes had stars in them, and there was no helping it.

“You’re a sight.”

She put her hand on her hip, glancing around nervously as a gaggle of teenage females wandered through the store. We’d been marvelously lucky all day long, not getting noticed even when Lindsey had tucked away her sunglasses. Of course, with her sunny hair hidden, she wasn’t quite as noticeable.

To people who weren’t me anyway.

I still wore my sunglasses, afternoon sun fading or not. I was used to living in permanent night. Or I had been before the last couple days, and the times I’d spent with her before that.

“Does that mean you think I should put them back?”

“No, it means I’m picturing you with them over my shoulders.”

She glanced around again, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “So, I guess I’m buying them.”

“Seems wise.”

We left with a large bag containing the boots and a leather belt she’d insisted on buying for me. The buckle was a microphone, and she’d made all manner of filthy suggestions in my ear while stroking the leather.

I probably would’ve bought three of them without a blink if she’d only asked.

Hand in hand, we wandered through the city streets. We could’ve been any touristy couple, doing usual couples’ things.

For once, that label didn’t rankle. It felt like possibilities.

Promise.

She announced she’d crossed fifteen thousand steps today and her arches were weeping, but she didn’t hesitate when I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere special with me once we’d ridden the train back to my side of town.

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