Page 49 of Playing With Love

“More.”

“Tonight,” he declared.

I didn’t want to wait however many hours that was.

“Now,” I pleaded and tightened my legs around his hips.

“Tonight,” he firmly affirmed. “I want to take my time.”

As amazing as that sounded, because I knew what Tucker could do when he took his time, I still didn’t want to wait.

I was hot and bothered and wanted what I knew only Tucker could give me.

Before I could protest…or more aptly beg, he rested his forehead against mine.

“You have no idea how hard it is.” He flexed his hips, grinding his erection against my ass to punctuate his point. “Literally, Lizzy, so fucking hard it hurts. But I don’t want a quick fuck in a hotel room. I want us to have time.”

A quick fuck in a hotel room. We’d had that once. Well, it wasn’t quick, it was an all-nighter. I knew what came the morning after. I knew how badly it hurt to have him walk away. I knew the torturous pain of being friend-zoned. It didn’t matter that pain was worth having him in my life any way I could’ve had him, but it was still pain. And two years ago, I put an end to it, then endured a new kind of agony—losing him altogether.

At that, I snapped out of the sex fog Tucker had created with a kiss.

A kiss.

That was all it had taken for me to forget. No, that wasn’t true, it was a really good kiss. The best. The kind of kiss that bent reality and catapulted you into an alternate universe free of pain and heartbreak.

I loosened my legs and wiggled.

“Put me down.”

Tucker’s grip tightened. Our size difference being what it was, made it easy for him to hitch me higher and keep me where he wanted.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean nope?” I squeaked, having a gut feeling I knew what he meant so I wiggled more.

He pivoted and pushed my back against the wall. Once he successfully pinned me in place he went on to declare his scary intentions. “Not until we get a few things straight. You admitted yourself you love me. I told you I’ve been in love with you from the beginning. We’re talking this out. After that, I’m taking you to my bed and I’m taking my time showing you how much I’ve missed you. In return you’re gonna show me.”

“Tucker—”

“Go ahead, baby, deny it. Lie and tell me you weren’t into that kiss as much as I was. Tell me you haven’t missed me. Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do. I won’t believe you but I’ll listen. I’m not giving up. I’m not letting you retreat. I’m not letting you run. I’m taking us where we should’ve gone two years ago. You can fight it all you want, but, baby, I’m dragging you with me.”

That didn’t sound good mainly because it was everything I wanted and I rarely—as in never—got what I wanted. From as far back as I could remember there were two things I wanted more than anything and I never got them. I wasn’t worthy of them. One day Tucker, too, would figure out I wasn’t worth the trouble, I wasn’t good enough for him. And when he turned his back on me it would hurt worse than all the times my dad told me he didn’t have time for me. I’d learned to live with the sting of my father’s rejection. I’d never live through Tucker throwing me away.

I’d wilt and wither until there was nothing left.

“Just because you’re a good kisser and I remember how good you are in bed doesn’t mean I want a relationship with you.”

Tucker smiled.

The man actually smiled at my snarky, untrue remark.

“Right.”

“And I said I loved you. Past tense.”

“Sure,” he returned, drawing out the word so there was no missing he didn’t believe me.

“And you don’t love me.”