Page 56 of Playing Mr. Perfect

In a few hours I’ll have nothing but time for work.

It’s just one night.

I realize I’m still running my fingers through Clay’s hair and set down my phone. I gaze down at his handsome face, so unguarded and serene. I wonder if that’s how I looked falling asleep in his arms the last two nights. The first morning we woke up together feels like it was a month ago. I wish I hadn’t run from him.

Too many emotions stack up inside me, and I toy with the idea of staying for another day. I can see us lazily welcoming the morning, exploring more of the city, or spending the day in bed, pleasuring each other. Just as I feel myself smiling, my hand stills in Clay’s hair.

Have I lost my mind? I shouldn’t even have taken today off work.

That’s how dangerous Clay is for me. All it took was thinking about spending more time with him and I’m pondering shirking more of my responsibilities.

I take my hand out of his hair, but the need to touch him is too strong to deny. I put my hand on his back, feeling the sure and steady beat of his heart, and close my eyes, reveling in it as I accept the hard truth.

This wonderful man is far more dangerous than I thought. Not just to my heart, but also to the business I’ve worked so hard to build. Too hard to jeopardize it.

Chapter Fourteen

Clay

I wake to a dark room, with my head still in Pepper’s lap, and remain still, waiting for the pounding in my head to start. When it doesn’t, I’m more than relieved. I turn my attention to the incredible woman in my arms, feeling bad for the way our night ended. I’m also immensely grateful for her thoughtfulness. Nobody has ever taken care of me the way she did.

She stirs, moonlight illuminating her beautiful face as her eyes flutter open.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I whisper, and slide her down to the mattress beside me, catching a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand. 3:45. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Where would I go?” she asks sleepily, and touches my cheek. “How’s your head?”

“Better, thanks to you. I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t be. You can’t help it if you have a migraine.”

“No, but I can make it up to you now.” I lower my lips to hers, kissing her tenderly.

“Yes, please,” she whispers.

Her arms circle me as our mouths come together in a slow, sensual kiss. I savor the taste of her, memorizing the feel of her soft curves against me, knowing this is our last morning together. The longer we kiss, the fiercer our passion becomes, and soon we’re desperately groping, grasping, clawing at each other. Her needy moans spur me on to earn more of them.

“I can never get enough of you,” I grit out as I strip off her top. I tease her breast as I push her pajama pants down, and she wiggles out of them.

She tugs at my boxer briefs. “Off!”

I strip them off, need coursing through my veins, and I snag a condom from my wallet, quickly rolling it on. Our eyes lock as I come down over her. She grabs my forearms, her hazel eyes drilling into mine with so much emotion, it’s inescapable. Without sneaking around, without alcohol messing with my senses, this feels intensely intimate, amplifying every scintillating sensation as I thrust slowly, taking her inch by inch. I watch her, wanting to see her passion brewing as our bodies become one. Her lips part, her fingers tightening around my forearms and her eyes widening as I bury myself to the hilt. I’m swamped with that feeling of completeness again, and the wonder in her eyes tells me she feels it, too.

“Clay” falls desperately from her lips at the same time a rough growl escapes mine.

I stroke into her again, loving the hunger in her eyes. The rampant beat of our hearts roars between us like a ravenous beast. Her fingernails cut into my flesh with every thrust of my hips. The pleasure is so intense, so excruciatingly perfect, it consumes me, shattering my restraint. I take her in a brutal kiss, pounding into her. She’s right there with me, rocking her hips, moaning as we feed our carnal desires.

“Come for me.” My demand is harsh and unrelenting, and the staggering pleasure in her eyes has me clutching her ass so hard, I’m sure I’ll leave marks. I’ll probably go straight to hell for thinking it, but I fucking love marking her, and as my name tears from her lungs and her pussy clamps around my cock, I know she loves it, too. I crush my mouth to hers as her climax ravages her, feeling every pulse and gasp.

She shivers and shakes as she comes down from the peak, and I take her right back up. I want to stay buried inside her forever, but she feels too fucking good. I wrap her long legs around my waist, angling my hips, driving deeper into her, gritting my teeth against the climax that’s barreling toward me.

“There. Ohgo—”

Her words are lost to a cry of pleasure that sends the world spinning on its axis, carrying us both into oblivion. We pump and grind, clinging together, draining each other of everything we have, until we’re too spent to move.

I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. I’ve never felt so in sync with someone in and out of the bedroom, and somehow I know this unstoppable connection is only the beginning.

“Jesus, Reckless. You fucking destroy me.”