Play With Me (Playing for Keeps, #2)

by Becka Mack

If it’s my time to go, at least the dessert was orgasmic.

“I’m so fucking tired of pretending.” “Pretending what?” It’s nothing but a breathy whisper as he prowls toward me, matching each of my steps backward. His strong hands cup my face, piercing gaze locked on mine as he looms above me. My heart slams in my chest as his thumb sweeps across my lower lip, and his eyes dip, watching as my lips part on a jagged inhale, before flipping back up to mine. “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m not in love with you.”

“I’m not crying,” I cry. “Just in case you were wondering.” I choke out a pathetic sob. “It’s allergy season.” “It’s February.” “Shut up.”