Page 39 of Property of Player

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.

Player moves to the bedside and lights a fat candle, then returns to me.

He takes both my hands in his. “Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

I nod, lost in the deep feelings I see in his eyes and completely under his spell.

He threads his fingers through my hair. “Soft as silk. Always was.”

I lift my hands to the snaps of his denim shirt, popping them free, one by one.

He shrugs it off his shoulders, then strips the black t-shirt underneath.

My gaze drops to his muscled chest and the colorful ink that scrolls across it. In the moonlight I can’t make out what it all is, but it looks badass, and I stroke my palms over his skin. His belly quivers under my fingertips, and he drags in a shuddering breath.

At my touch?

He’s ridged with muscle and just a soft, thin trail of hair to his belly button that disappears into his jeans.

I lift my gaze to his. He’s got that same smoldering hunger in his eyes I remember so well from high school, only this time it’s mixed with danger and a commanding presence that ups the heat level off the charts.

“Turn around,” he orders softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his hands already on my waist, turning me, taking control.

He’d already ripped the hoodie over my head, and it lies on the floor. Now he works my t-shirt slowly up my ribs, then off. His mouth nuzzles the nape of my neck, and his lips press kisses along the bare skin of my shoulders until the anticipation has me trembling.

He mistakes my reaction, whispering in my ear, “You nervous, Taylor?”

I shake my head and tilt it, giving him better access.

“You know I’d never hurt you, not in a million years. I can take this as slowly and gently as you want—as you need—sweetheart.”

I melt inside at his words and drop my head against his chest. He tugs my jeans down, and I step out of them. His palms trail up my bare legs and ass as he stands, then reaches for the hook of my bra. It falls to the carpet at my feet. Now I’ve nothing on but a pair of lacy satin panties.

He steps closer, his arm snakes around my waist from behind, and he hauls me against his big, solid body. I gasp, and his rough hands close over my bare breasts, turning the gasp to a moan. The candlelight flickers over my skin in golden hues while desire licks over my body. Player dips his head to my shoulder, his cheek to mine, and he watches as he squeezes and thrums his thumbs over my peaked nipples. And oh my God… the way it feels.

I loll my head on his shoulder and moan in pleasure.

“God, you’re beautiful. The way you react to me, Taylor… prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I rub myself against him; his words working their magic on me and making me want to give him everything—anything—he wants. I love the feel of him pressed tight to me, his chest to my back, and his arms around me.

It feels… safe.

“What’s this?” His fingertips brush over the small tattoo on the swell of my left breast—the word Player drawn in swirling cursive with a small crown next to it. “Is…” He hesitates a moment. “Is that for me?”

No use denying it. The truth of how I feel about this man—how I’ve always felt about him—is written on my skin.

He turns me to face him and searches my face. “Why?”

My eyes fill, and I shake my head. I can’t say the words, but I can show him.

I loop my arms around his neck to pull his mouth to mine. This time his kiss is savage, taking everything I give as I drop my head back and let him drink his fill.

He growls deep in his throat, the sound vibrating from his mouth to mine.

He guides me to my back, kneeling over me.

His hands slide to my thighs, and I whimper in pleasure as his palms glide along my inner thighs, pressing them open. I clench my knees together out of instinct.