Page 38 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

That melting expression in his gaze turned up about a million degrees. “Not done satisfying you by a long shot.”

Hmm, yeah, okay, I could work with that.

Before I chickened out, I straightened and pulled off the tank top. His expression bolstered me to continue, so I quickly undid my bra.

“Hair,” he gritted out when I would’ve gone for the shorts. “Take it down.”

“Like Rapunzel?”

He didn’t smile, so I complied. The still damp strands fell heavy against my bare skin and curled around my breasts like a protective shield. He brushed it back, his knuckles skimming my nipples and making me arch. God, if just his eyes and the lightest of touches could arouse me this much, how would I survive actual sex with him?

Spoiler—I probably wouldn’t.

Physically, yes, although his wand of destruction unnerved me more than a little. But emotionally, there was no doubt some part of me would be irrevocably changed after having sex with Oz Taylor.

I still wasn’t backing away. I’d been dreaming of this moment since the days when I thought sex meant promises and forever love. Not just a few sweaty minutes with the late afternoon sun pouring in the window, making him look both older and younger at the same time. His eyes were haunted, the grooves around them cut deep. But his mouth was so soft as he gazed at me. Unguarded. Almost as vulnerable as I felt sitting here topless under his perusal.

“You’re so beautiful. If I could sketch, I’d want to fucking paint you in watercolor.”

Okay, now we were getting into deeper water. “You’re mixing mediums. Besides, yours is music.”

His jaw worked. “Yeah, it is. Thanks for reminding me.”

I wasn’t exactly sure if he was being a smart ass, but I wasn’t about to engage him when it meant the keeper of my orgasms might just toss away the key.

I reached for the drawstring on the shorts, but his big hand closed over mine. “What’s your hurry,” he murmured an instant before his mouth met mine.

Whereas last night had been all hunger and need, today was something else. Oh, the desire was still there, but there was more. A gentleness that showed up at the oddest times with him and probably wasn’t surprising considering the way his other hand cupped my sore cheek. His thumb feathered across the swelling, and his kiss turned even sweeter somehow. We were both breathing hard, moving against each other in a simulation of what was to come, and all I could do was beg for more.

Over and over, like a mantra.

“You’ll get more,” he said between kisses, a smile in his voice as he grasped my hip to pull me over his lap. I straddled him as I had the night before, but it was so much different now because I knew we wouldn’t be stopping.

God, this was really happening.

I framed his face in my hands and moved back to search his eyes. They were heavy and so, so dark, with flecks of gold in the brown. I smoothed my fingers over his growing-in beard, reveling in the feeling of the burn against my chin

and around my mouth.

And against my breasts as he lowered his head to worship them, licking my nipples with a delicacy I’d never have expected from huge, strong Oz. The guy who tossed guitars in hot tubs and broke amps on stage and had earned every bit of his crazy rep. Here and now, he was thorough and tender, his teeth a welcome pressure against the tight tips.

I gasped and he bit down harder, laving his tongue over the sting he’d left behind. His big hands, rough with calluses from playing guitar, slid up my back, adding more sensation. Overloading me while he made love to my breasts. I squirmed against his hard cock, already impatient.

His low chuckle rumbled against my skin. “Slow down, Flannigan. This is gonna take a while.”

“It’s taken long enough. Let’s pick up the pace.”

He skimmed his mouth up between my breasts to a particularly sensitive spot at the base of my throat. Sucking softly, he toyed with the drawstring on my shorts, heightening my anticipation until I was ready to shove them down myself.

So much for playing it cool.

“You sure you’re ready for that?”

“What?”

“For me to put my mouth on you. Because that’s what’s going to happen when those shorts come off.”

I took a shuddery breath. I should probably tell him I’d never experienced that yet. Some fumbling finger bangs? Yeah, definitely. Once or twice I’d even had an orgasm from them, but they were far rarer than when I touched myself.

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