Page 67 of Over the Limit

I kiss him. It’s hard and reeking of desperation. God it feels good to finally take what I want without repercussions. Without thinking.

Don’t end.

Don’t fucking end.

But he frames my face with his hands—something about the action makes me feel wanted and desired—and leans back to look at me. His labored breathing feathers over my lips as my heart all but beats out of my chest.

“Zola helped get us on the golf course that night. I’m returning the favor. Her mom is the queen of trying to set her up. I’m saving her from some old guy by pretending to be her date.”

I tsk in response at his far-fetched bullshit. “You sure as shit are playing the part well, now, aren’t you?”

His grin widens. “I like this side of you.” I don’t. He bends his knees so that he’s the only thing in my line of vision. “Look at me. Monica Chamalet is the private advisor to Gravitas Racing. Yes, I’m helping Zola out here, but I’m also well aware of the game I’m playing. The one I need to play to guarantee I’m on the grid next year. Nothing less. Nothing more. What I want—you—hasn’t fucking changed one goddamn bit.”

I open my mouth and then close it. The conviction in his voice is as much of a turn-on as his hands on my cheeks.

The rumors must be true. If Monica’s advising now, I can see why people are saying she might take a step toward ownership.

I had no clue she was that involved. Or that he knew Zola well enough for her to ask for his help in fending off her mother’s matchmaking.

“So there’s nothing there? Between you two?”

“I only have eyes for one woman,” he says resolutely.

“And everything else is you just playing the game?” I whisper.

“It is. And obviously it’s rather convincing.” His smile lights up his eyes.

But watching him play the game is like having acid drip . . . it burns every time it hits but it doesn’t kill you outright.

“You think I don’t want you, Blair? That I’ve changed my mind?” He runs a thumb over my bottom lip, and I lean in to the touch. “You’re out of your goddamn mind. I’ve tried convincing myself of every damn reason why we shouldn’t. Why I can’t risk it. And all I keep coming back to is how I don’t have a fucking choice because I’m going mad without you.”

His lips slant over mine once more. He takes them like a man starving for air and I’m his only source of oxygen. There’s a potency to it I’ve never experienced before. I’ve been ruined by it because it’s all I’ll ever want going forward.

“Seven days,” he murmurs against my lips.

“What?” I all but shriek as he covers my mouth once again to keep me quiet.

“I told you, I don’t break my rules for anyone.”

“Lach?” Zola’s voice floats down the hallway. “The help said you were down here.”

His wince says it all. He’s playing a game.

“Hey, Tink?” He pulls me firmly against his body so that I can feel every deliciously hard inch of him. “These?” He runs his hands up and down the length of my bathing suit-clad hips. The heat of his touch against my bare skin is the sweetest seduction known to man.

The darkening of his eyes says he feels the same way.

“This is what I get off to. This body. These curves. This mind. You. Not hers. Believe me . . . it’s you.”

And just like that, the fury is gone, and the goddamn inferno of desire returns as he slides out the door of the stateroom, leaving me a puddle of want. Well . . . that just happened.

“This is what I get off to. This body. These curves. This mind. You. Not hers. Believe me . . . it’s you.”

And I can’t wait until it happens again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lachlan