Page 40 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

His breathless statement caused me to lift my head. “We don’t?”

He smoothed his ridged fingertips down my arms. “You’re shaking.”

Was I? How incredibly mortifying. “I’m turned on.” And also shaking. Now that he’d mentioned it, I was covered in goosebumps—and the room wasn’t cold. “But you’re intimidating.”

He didn’t chuckle or preen. So much for taking his mind off of my spectacular fail. “We’re moving kind of fast.”

“Fast? I’ve been wanting you to take my virginity since I was seventeen. Maybe sixteen.”

Possibly fifteen, but I wasn’t admitting it.

When he didn’t speak, I looked up at his face and wanted to cry or laugh at the sheer shock that resided there. “There’s no way.”

I tried to recover. “I spied on you in the shower one time while I was waiting for Kerry. You were my first example that cold water doesn’t make everything shrink.”

He reached up to take my sore cheek in his palm, his eyes searching mine wordlessly. I expected him to say something incredibly humiliating and shut this down, but he just drew my mouth back to his. He shifted us on the bed, changing our positions until I was half underneath him and his long hair fell down around us.

So dense and dark and sexy as fuck. Just like the man himself.

His lips touched mine while he stroked my breasts. His caresses were soft and easy, and my rocketing heartbeat slowed even as the heat between my legs bloomed once more.

His kisses were endless and unhurried. Eventually, he moved them to my shoulders and back to my breasts.

Methodically driving me wild.

He turned me on my side so that my back was to his front and kept right on brushing kisses over whatever spots he could reach. I was getting impatient, but whenever I tried to lift my leg so he’d get the hint, he just kept kissing and touching me as leisurely as if we had all the time in the world.

Maybe we did.

He shifted behind me and then the hot, hard column of him skimmed my ass. Instead of freezing up, I rubbed against it, needing the friction. Wanting to know. He still didn’t hurry, just lifted my leg over both of his, opening me up so that the ceiling fan paddling overhead streamed cool air over my warm flesh. Then his fingers were there, working their magic. Stretching me open again with seductive purpose.

“I don’t have condoms here,” he said in a guttural voice I scarcely recognized. “I’ve never needed them. I should have some in my wallet, but I haven’t needed those in a while either.”

Inside, I did a mental cheer. Oz—the most gorgeous rockstar in the entire history of them as far as I was concerned—didn’t carry condoms in his wallet. Not because he was riding every groupie bareback, but because somehow. He. Did. Not. Need. Them.

Sure, he might’ve been feeding me a line, but I trusted Oz. If I hadn’t, we never would’ve been in this situation.

Until I realized exactly what his lack of latex meant for the destruction of my virginity. “Are you clean?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to risk you like that.”

“What’s the risk? I mean, I know what they are, but if you’re clean and you pull out—”

“As if I’ll ever want to leave that sweet pussy.”

I swallowed hard. “Consider this the practice round. We’ll refine the dance card later.”

“More mixed metaphors.” His low laughter flowed out with the brush of his lips over my shoulder. “Nothing is practice with you. It’s game on.”

I shimmied against him and reached back to slide my hand around the back of his neck. This time when our mouths met, the head of his cock slid against my pussy. Just one testing push. I would’ve tensed if he hadn’t made me so goddamn needy. But he knew. His thumb rolled over my clit as he adjusted his placement between my legs a

nd drove forward. One long, slow thrust that left him buried inside me.

I didn’t cry out because I bit my lip. Which was now bleeding.

Holy fuck, he was huge.

“Sorry. Did I hurt you?” He turned my chin toward his and kissed me, saying nothing about the blood.

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