Page 83 of Play Dirty

Again.

Haven didn’t hesitate this time. She didn’t pull back, or question it. Her mouth met mine like we’d already crossed whatever line this was supposed to be. Like we both knew there was no going back anyway.

Damn.

This wasn’t just a mistake, it was a distraction. A problem for me, for the team, for everything.

I found that I didn’t care. Not right now, anyway.

Her legs tightened around me, bare skin sliding against mine, heat bleeding through every layer between us until there wasn’t enough distance left to pretend this was anything but exactly what it was.

I exhaled sharply into her mouth, my hand moving before I could stop it. Slowly, deliberately, it traveled up her leg, feeling the curve of her calf, the back of her knee—

Higher.

Too high.

Her shorts were useless. Practically nonexistent. My fingers brushed the inside of her thigh, where heat poured off her, and—

She made a sound.

Soft. Barely there.

It hit me harder than anything else.

“Grayson…”

Fuck, I loved the way she said my name — like it meant something. The way she breathed it out, her lips pressed against mine.

And that was it.

That was all it took.

I tightened my grip instinctively, pulling her closer, my mouth finding hers again. I kissed her deeper this time, rougher, like I’d already lost the fight and didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.

This wasn’t controlled anymore. This wasn’t careful. This was—

I stopped.

Not completely, but just enough.

My hand stilled. My head cleared for one sharp, brutal second.

Too far.

I reached blindly toward the edge of the bed, grabbed the sweatpants I’d tossed there earlier, and pressed them into her hand.

“Put these on,” I muttered, against her mouth.

She blinked at me.

“What?”

“Put them on,” I said again, my voice lower now, tighter. “Because if you don’t—”

I exhaled, hard.

“—I’m not stopping.”