Page 57 of Playboy’s Purgatory

I lick my lips without even thinking about it. The question comes out breathier than I’d like, “Why?”

“Because they’ll both have a blast,” he explains. “And because you’re a really good mom and you’ve realized this is a chance to expand your daughter’s horizons.”

A scathing retort is on the tip of my tongue, but it dies as Playboy takes another step closer to me. The distance between us is completely gone now. All I can feel is the heat coming off his body.

As the air around us charges with something lusty and needy, I try to tell myself to step away and put distance between us. My feet stay rooted right where they are.

His large hands come up and cup my face, his brown eyes darkening as he studies me. “Tell me to back off.”

His words are a warning. A plea. A hope.

I don’t say anything.

Then his lips are pressed against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, filled with something tentative and fragile. I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to pull away, slap him, or scream.

But I can’t do any of those things. Because all I can do is feel the way his other arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer. And the way his body goes rigid as he tilts my head and deepens the kiss, his tongue invading my mouth like he’s out to win a damn war.

Maybe he is.

Kissing Playboy is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s hot, heavy, and filled with dirty promises. There’s something else as well, something reverent and lasting.

My mind drifts and I get lost in kissing him. His mouth leaves mine whenever we both need to breathe before devouring me again. He doesn’t let up and before I know it, I’m clinging to his shoulders because my legs are no longer able to support me.

Just as I snap back to reality and my muscles tense to push him away, small footsteps can be heard coming back toward the kitchen. Playboy pulls away first. Very fucking slowly.

His eyes search mine before he lets go and steps out of my personal bubble. The loss of his nearness shouldn’t feel profound, but it does.

“I’m done,” Vanessa shouts as she rushes into the kitchen while waving a piece of paper above her head.

She doesn’t look at us like we’ve just been caught doing something we shouldn’t; she doesn’t even notice.

When Vanessa hands him the drawing, he holds it up and looks at it for a long moment. It’s not the kind of moment adults use to prepare themselves to spew bullshit. He looks at it with an appraising, and serious, eye.

“I think this one is even better,” he praises her instead of brushing her off.

Another crack in my resolve forms. Damn it.

“I should get going,” he glances at me and I swear I see him blush, “I know you ladies have an early start tomorrow.”

“That’s what I hate most about school,” Vanessa gripes, “waking up.”

With a laugh and an awkward look in my direction, because I’m now committed to doing my best statue impersonation, Playboy is gone. But I feel the press of his lips against mine for a long time.

I’ll never admit just how long.

CHAPTER 14

PLAYBOY

“Today I get to see you in your full bikini glory,” I tease Lara the moment she walks into my shop.

She rolls her eyes and tries to scowl, but I catch the way one side of her mouth tips up. When she notices Riti cleaning up her station, she pauses for a moment. I’ve made sure the shop is empty every other time Lara has come in.

I didn’t want any distractions or for someone else to have any of her attention. I’m aware it makes me sound selfish as hell. Here’s the thing—I really don’t give a fuck.

Being close to her, earning her little smiles and laughs while breathing in her sugary scent, has become an obsession. I won’t apologize for it.

I also won’t be stopping any time soon.