Page 21 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

I bit

my lip, dropping back my head as the pleasure climbed inside me, twining with the pain of knowing it would be over soon. That peak meant the drop would hurt even more.

His teeth scraped over my nipple, and the jolt snapped me back into my body. I couldn’t find distance. There was no way to cushion my landing. To do anything but to take every bit of his hand flexing against me, demanding all I’d held back for my own safety.

We didn’t need words. We just needed this.

I shook and cried out as I came, moaning into his mouth. Somehow it was there to meet mine, his lips gentle instead of punishing, his fingers coaxing instead of relentless. Nursing me through the moment, extending it, rather than forcing me to give him everything. He was taking it all.

I dropped my head to his shoulder to catch my breath, burying my face in the thick ropes of his hair. Smoke and sweat and destruction, surrounding me. Centering me as his big hand rubbed up and down my back.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and the thickness of his voice made me want to cry. I didn’t know if they were happy tears or leftover from nearly dying or because I knew this moment would probably never happen again.

I didn’t know how it had happened now.

The silence grew between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. My heartbeat fell back into an easier rhythm and the gentle movement of his hand could’ve lulled me to sleep if he hadn’t let out a groan and shifted, reminding me exactly how big he was and how small the space.

“Sorry. Sorry,” I repeated, backing up too fast again and hitting my head for what, the third time? I’d lost track.

He shook his head and reached up to rub my scalp, soothing me yet again. “You can drive.”

It made me giggle—and cry. The tears would’ve embarrassed me if he hadn’t reached up to cup my cheek and smoothed them away, one by one.

Sniffling, I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand. “I haven’t come in a really long time.”

“Okay.”

It made me giggle again. “You’re wondering if you just had your hand in the panties of a crazy person, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Don’t be so effusive, Osmond.” When I would’ve eased back in a futile attempt to collect myself, he just wrapped his arms around me and cuddled me close.

Even surrounded by his heat, my eyes widened. As stupid as it seemed, I didn’t know he knew how to hold someone. That he could feel so good, so right, holding me.

“Stop thinking so loud. Just take a minute.” He rubbed his chin against the crown of my head. “Give me one.”

I gave it to both of us because I couldn’t do anything else.

“Daisy.”

Gently, he shook my shoulder. I blinked and lifted my head, taking in his slow smile with confusion.

“You fell asleep,” he said, wincing as he shifted beneath me. “And so did my ass and my left hip. Holy Christ, these seats suck.”

I grinned and yanked up my top. “I’m moving.”

His quick frown was a bolster to my ego I hadn’t realized I needed. “I really liked that view.”

“Good to know.”

“Daisy.” He gripped my hip. “Thank you.”

“For driving? You’re welcome. I’m eager to sleep in a real bed too.” Not wanting anything to bring back the tension that had nearly killed us, I flashed him a smile and shifted back into the passenger seat. And happened to slide a glance at his groin.

“That has to be a trick of the light,” I muttered.

“What light?” He pulled his seat back into an upright position and seemed to gather the direction of my gaze. And smirked in full Oz mode. “Nope. That’s a trick of genetics. One good thing I can thank my worthless pop for.”

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