Page 80 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

Every sharp breath he took rocketed through me. He licked his lips and I mirrored the move, pulling a groan that sounded like pain from his chest. Then I dove down again, pushing my now tumbled hair out of my face when it blocked my view. He leaned up and gripped the messy ponytail, moving it aside so he could watch each pull of my mouth.

When I cupped his sac, he braced himself on the mat and dropped back his head.

I had to taste him there too.

He thought he was the only one who knew how to shock? Not even close.

His salty, oh so male flavor skated over my taste buds. Not unpleasant at all. I was so crazed for him that I nearly growled as I took his length in my mouth again. In my throat. Sucking him and twisting my hand along his shaft took almost all of my attention.

The rest was for his eyes. I was waiting for that minute flicker that would tell me he was about to finally give up what I wanted.

No holding back.

“Lindsey.” The warning made me move faster. He thought I’d retreat? Hell no. I craved the taste of him.

Every damn drop.

Color dotted his cheekbones and his gaze locked on me like a laser. He said my name again and again, not the nickname he’d christened me with. Along with it, he muttered Irish words I didn’t understand. They could’ve meant love or bitch, and I would’ve been none the wiser.

His hands were so fucking gentle in my hair. Never forcing me to take more than I was able to.

Here, finally, he could be tender.

I didn’t stop until his thighs turned to granite beneath my straining arms. He thickened in my grip, and his touch roughened for an instant before he let go. His body strung tight and then he was on my tongue, coming so fast that I wasn’t sure I’d catch it all. But I didn’t stop swallowing and although it cost me, I couldn’t look away from the beautiful tragedy of his face.

His eyes were so raw, so broken. I’d torn something from him that sounded like my name and made me ache for him even as he shook under my hold.

Once I’d caught my breath, I went back for the stray drops I’d missed. I wound my tongue around his softened shaft, sliding up and down without hesitation.

“You’re far more wicked than I gave you credit for.”

God, his accent. When we were intimate, it was nearly more than I could take.

I crawled up his body, leaving kisses in my wake. Taking my time on the uneven skin he thought made him less and instead, made him so much more.

Carefully, so carefully, he drew my mouth to his. We’d shared so much else. This was just one more thing.

We kissed forever. Not since I’d been a horny teenager h

ad a man spent so much time on my mouth. Especially one who’d just been inside it.

Inside me.

When we ran out of breath, I sank onto his chest. Fully naked, sprawled in the morning sun as if we were kittens. Damn anyone who might see.

I didn’t have the capacity to worry about mirrored lenses in trees right now. Some part of me would relish having proof this incredible day had happened. Even if I regretted my foolishness later.

At least I was living for myself. Not singing songs on a stage while I channeled emotions I ran from in real life.

I didn’t have time. Didn’t want to get involved.

Wasn’t looking for any of that.

I’d found it anyway. Or it had found me. I was fucking terrified who I’d be when it was all over.

Because it would be soon. It had to be.

Didn’t it?

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