Page 130 of Play Dirty

Our mouths met in a slow, questing kiss, while our hands worked magic between us. And then suddenly I was being lifted upward by two strong arms. He held me there for a moment, suspended against the wall, before guiding me slowly down.

My mouth opened as he parted me.

My eyes flared, as gravity drove him inside.

Ohhhhhh…

And then I was straddling his hard, athlete’s body, fully impaled. Arms folded over his shoulders. Legs wrapped around his perfect flanks. Grayson kissed me again, harder, this time while buried achingly deep inside me.

All I could do was kiss him back, while grinding against him.

The shower cascaded against his back, splashing us with warmth as we grinded away. Minutes passed. Hours. Days. It could’ve been anything, really. Beyond the curtain of swirling steam, time held no meaning.

I should’ve been sated, but I wasn’t. The pleasant soreness between my legs should’ve reminded me of how many times I’d been taken by his teammates, over and over again. I should’ve felt greedy wanting more of this. It should’ve felt wrong, wanting him.

None of that seemed to matter.

All my body wanted was more.

Grayson held me steady, his arms not even wavering as I squeezed my thighs tighter around him. I wondered how long he’d wanted to do this. Tried to imagine at what point his will would’ve broken, had it not been helped along by the circumstances of tonight.

My breath was coming faster when he finally pulled back. It wasn’t to stop, though.

It was to guide.

“Come on,” he said, lowering me to the tiled floor. His hand took my wrist.

“Where?”

That faint, knowing smile was back again.

“Somewhere I don’t have to share.”

The water stopped, and I didn’t argue. I didn’t hesitate.

I only followed.

We drifted together down the stairs, through the hallway, into the dim silence of his bedroom. We dove into the warm world beneath his down comforter. The softness of pillows that smelled like him.

And for the first time all night, I didn’t feel pulled in three different directions.

Grayson’s hands found my legs, pushing them back. He spread me wide. Hovered over me.

And took me exactly where we’d left off.

Later, wrapped in warmth that had nothing to do with the storm, I lay against him, his arm heavy across my waist. His breathing slow and even behind me.

The house was silent. The storm still clawed at the windows.

But inside that room—

I lay awake longer than I meant to.

Not thinking about what had already happened. Not even thinking about him.

I was thinking about tomorrow.

About the fact that they were all still here.