Page 77 of The Playboy

I was just glad that she’d finally agreed to come out to eat with me after playing hard to get.

“But it was delicious, wasn’t it?” I didn’t wait for her to respond before I continued, “Like I told you, random eating is the best.”

“There might just be a new sweet and savory combination that’s become my favorite.”

My hands went to her sides.

She didn’t push them away, although she noticed the placement because her expression immediately changed. Her breathing did as well, speeding up as her body stiffened.

When I took a step closer, she didn’t move back.

She didn’t move forward either.

She stayed right where she was, waiting for what I was about to do.

What I wanted was to convince her that we were perfect for one another. That I was everything she needed.

But I suspected she already knew this.

She was scared. Unprepared.

She used timing and muddiness as her excuses.

The truth was, there was never a perfect scenario for anything. Things happened. You learned to roll with each hill you faced. As you got older, you got busier. And you attempted to find a balance despite how hard that was.

Somehow, someway, she would learn this too.

Even if I was the one who had to show her.

I held her even tighter, exhaling as I took in those beautiful eyes. “You know … I have your number now.”

She looked at my smile and began to laugh again. “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to use it for reasons other than texting me that question in a week?”

“You’re right.” I drew her in even closer. “I’m not going to give up, Brooklyn. I want this.” I licked across my lips. “I know you do too.”

She wasn’t speaking her thoughts, but I could hear them.

There was too much happening in her life. She didn’t know how to separate work from pleasure.

But this felt good—and was that okay?

I was going to show her just how all right it was.

My hands slowly slid up her ribs and shoulders and neck and stopped at her cheeks, where I tilted her face up at me. “I want to take you home.”

Her eyes closed, and I felt her take the deepest breath. “Macon …” When her eyelids opened, she studied my stare.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” When she stayed silent, I added, “Spit it out. I don’t care what it sounds like, just get it off your chest.”

She filled her lungs, holding in the air until she finally voiced, “My head is all over the place. It can’t even form a solid thought that makes any kind of sense. And then there’s my body. A body that wants you. A body that is addicted to you.”

Why were those words so fucking sexy?

Especially when they were spoken in such a needy tone like hers.

“Every time I’m with you,” she continued, “I unplug. I forget. I’m not filled with any stress or that overwhelming feeling that causes my chest and lungs to tighten. And then there’s the flip side to that. The side that surfaced tonight with the opportunity you presented. One I’ve dreamed about since I started college.”

“And things suddenly just got muddier.”

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