Breathe With Me (Playing For Keeps #5)

by Becka Mack

Jesus, I don’t think the man has stopped smiling. He tips his head. “Emmett Brodie, at your service, my queen.” Oh my God, fucking finally, a well-deserved nickname. I want to bask in it like sunshine, roll around in all that glory, but Emmett Brodie doesn’t appear to be done.

I cross my arms over my chest to hide that my nipples have risen to attention. “My, you’re eager. Aren’t you going to ask my name first?” “Nah. Already know it.” With a perfect, wide grin, Emmett Brodie deposits his phone into my hand. It’s opened to the New Contact page, except the name field has already been filled out. Mrs. Brodie. For the first time in my life, my heartbeat trips. A shadow falls over me, and the air is sucked from my lungs as perfect, lush lips dip to my ear, warm breath dancing down my neck. “C’mon, Mrs. Brodie. The quicker we get through the formalities, the quicker we get to the fun stuff, like my ring on your finger and you in my bed for the rest of our lives.”

Look, I love men. They’re hot, eager, and some of them know how to use their fingers, tongue, and their cocks—I call that the holy trinity. But Jesus Christ—and I say this with the utmost respect—at least 75 percent of the men I talk to have me thinking: Really? You were the fastest sperm?

I was unstoppable before Emmett. With him, I’m indestructible.

I was unstoppable before them. With them, I’m indestructible.

“Oh, of course. One-of-a-kind ring for my one-of-a-kind queen.”

“I like M&M’s,” she breathes as she shoves my jeans over my ass. “And Skittles.” “Fuck yes.” “At the same time.” “Weird, but I’m into it.” She shoves me down to the bed, straddling my lap. “I don’t like to share.” My heated stare dips down her body. “Neither do I.” “Skittles,” she clarifies. “You can eat the oranges and yellows.” I smile. “Why don’t you just get the berry package?” “They’re not always available.” “I’ll keep my pantry stocked.” “Back to the sharing thing. I don’t do it, period. I won’t tolerate being made to look stupid. I’ll give you two minutes of my time to rip your cock off and feed it to you, and then you’ll never see me again.” “Baby, this cock is yours for the rest of time.” “I don’t know anything about hockey.” “I don’t care. Just want you wearing my name on your back.” A shiver ripples down her spine. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” “Of course not. You already have a husband.” The quirk of her lips before she gives me one more push. “I don’t want to be tied down.” “All right.” Flipping us over, I push her down to the bed, pin her wrists together above her head, and yank my belt free from my pants on the floor. I trail the tip of the brown leather down her torso. “Then how about tied up?”

both our eyes fall to my thigh as he finds the delicate tattoo right at the top, a single word in his handwriting. Mine.

His. I’m his. I always have been, and I always will be.

“I fear for my life when I make you unhappy.”

“I hope your journey takes you wherever you want to go, and I hope you find peace along the way.”

don’t know who’s the first to wrap themselves around us. All I know is that one moment we’re standing here, barely holding it together, and the next, we’re not holding it together at all. But it’s okay. Because maybe we don’t need to hold it together when we have them holding us up.

Inadequate. Defective. Failure. This time, the voice in my head whispers one more. Worthless.

think so, baby.” He kisses my lips, then grips my hips as he crouches at my belly. “I hope you’re in there, baby. Your mama’s got the most perfect home for you to cook in for nine months.” My heart pulls taut, and when he presses his lips to my stomach, I close my eyes and pray that our love is enough to will this baby into existence. That I’m not about to break my husband’s heart.

will not cry over Taco Bell and ice cream.”

“Cara, I need you to let it go. There’s so much going on in your head right now; don’t let this have any of that precious, brilliant space. You’re used to giving a hundred and fifty percent, I get that. But all I’ve ever needed is for you to show up in whatever capacity you’re able to, and you do that over and over.” “I’m always going to show up for you,” I murmur, resting my chin on her hair. “Just like you show up for me.” “We’re good at that, huh? Showing up for each other?” “It’s second nature.” “Because that’s what true friends do. That’s what healthy, safe relationships look like. Showing up in whatever capacity you can without fear that you’ll be punished for it, because at the end of the day, your relationship is rooted in empathy, respect, and love.” My eyes fall shut as I sink into Olivia. “I knew you were my soul sister the moment I saw you.”