Play Dirty: Brooklyn Dawn Book 1

by Quinn, Cari

  “I’ll have to bring Jamie to that place.”

  “Is she partial to greasy spoons?”

  “You have no clue. Sure you’re not going to kill me?” I frowned at the shattered windows of the building we passed. I didn’t even know the side street we were on.

  “I may change my mind if you don’t quit asking.”

  “Message received.” I toyed with my phone in my pocket just for something to do with my fingers.

  Finally, he turned down an alley and punched a button on his visor. A stainless steel door rose without a sound, the smooth rollers in opposition to the graffiti-covered door.

  I might’ve listened to a podcast about a murder cave just like this one. Well, maybe not just like this one.

  I hoped.

  He parked and gave me a look. “What?”

  “Is this your house?”

  He inclined his head. “Garage to be specific, but yes, I live here.”

  I opened my door and slid out. The garage was massive with a panel of video screens along the far wall. A black Harley was tucked into the corner, as well as a low slung black Jag that made my heart race.

  Bad boy toys. Yet he drove an ancient Jeep built like a tank. If I wasn’t mistaken, it even looked a bit more banged up than the last time I’d seen it.

  So many questions flitted through my brain I couldn’t grasp them all.

  He held out his hand to me. “Come on.”

  I eagerly crossed to him, linking our fingers. He punched a password into the massive sliding door. It had a lever the size of my leg that he lifted with ease, then shouldered it open.

  My jaw dropped as we stepped inside.

  It was a massive open space with greenery everywhere. Moonlight came in from above us. Half the ceiling was glass, lending a silvery hue to the massive green fronds of some plants I would never be able to name. My idea of a plant was more like a cute plastic succulent that I couldn’t kill.

  A deep woof and scrabbling nails came flying over the hardwood floors.

  Nash immediately dropped my hand and went to his knees as a massive Rottweiler crashed into him, licking his face madly.

  “Okay, okay. That’s enough.” Nash tried to avoid the huge, lolling tongue, pushing the dog out of his face even as he scratched his neck. A red and black leather collar with tags jangled merrily as the two long-lost lovers reunited.

  I nearly jumped when something furry slid between my feet. One green eye blinked up at me as the cat slithered in and out between my legs. When I bent to pet the one-eyed gray-striped cat, it swished its tail and leaped away with a flash of fangs.

  “Okay, then.”

  “Don’t mind Sarge. He’s a little testy.”

  “Sarge?”

  “A former stray who decided he was staying with me.” Alex tapped his own eye. “Battle scar from life on the streets. Seemed fitting.”

  I smiled, then bent lower to say hi to the dog he’d mentioned in passing. “And this must be B.”

  The big black dog flipped onto his back to show me his belly.

  “Correct. This is Brutus, and he’s obviously an attack dog.”

  I rubbed his belly and his tongue came lolling out again, leaving a puddle of drool on the floor. Considering how much of a neat freak Alex was turning out to be, he didn’t seem too worried about the mess.

  He stood and took my hand again, leading me through the living space strewn with guitars in stands. An ancient upright piano was tucked into one corner with racks of albums lining the wall on either side. My gaze tripped over the massive leather furniture that screamed bachelor to the notebooks neatly lined up on nearly every table. He picked up a remote much like mine and soft music filled the room. Top of the line speakers had to be actually built into the walls.

  The music had a watery feel to it with a haunting voice I’d never heard before. I frowned. Actually, I had heard it before.

  It was my own, but nearly unrecognizable.

  His wild blue eyes searched mine.

  “From The Barn? You recorded it?” It was our song. The raw one full of imperfections and torrential emotions.

  “I pretty much record everything.”

  I pulled him to a stop on the way to the small kitchenette. “Everything?”

  He turned to me, our toes meeting, chests brushing. He brushed his thumb over my brow until it was smooth again. “Not everything. Some things are only for my ears, duchess. Only my memories.”

  I swallowed. “Is that so?”

  He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me with his eyes open. It was sweet and water-soft like the music around us. As the song deepened, so did his kiss. I twisted his shirt into my fisted hand as he opened me up for him. Took and took until I was fairly sure the oxygen in my very lungs was merely because he allowed it.

  He cupped my jaw, his thumb stroking down my neck with a butterfly touch. A soft sigh came out of the speakers and reverberated through me. I echoed it with one of my own.

  Then his voice layered over mine and I gasped.

  He’d kept our version together.

  I jerked back and he held me firm. “You listen to this a lot?”

  Worry flickered in his icy blue gaze. “Too much.”

  I swallowed, my fingers gentling on his shirt to lower and slide under it. His belly quivered under my touch. “Do you touch yourself while this is on?”

  His jaw tightened. “I haven’t come since I was last inside you.”

  My lips parted. “At all?”

  “My hand isn’t ever going to be enough after I’ve been inside you, duchess.” He nipped at my chin. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  I frowned. “No, I didn’t—”

  He stroked his thumb down to the skewed collar of my ripped sweatshirt, pushing my jacket off one shoulder then the next. “I’m not ashamed of it.” He tipped his head, his gaze never leaving my shoulder as he connected the handful of freckles I’d added to my collection, thanks to my waterfall sunburn. He lowered his mouth to the sensitive skin between my shoulder and neck, sucking lightly, then more forcefully. Leaving a mark as always.

  My nipples tightened under the ancient fabric.

  He lifted his gaze to mine as he gently dragged the back of his fingers over one of the tight tips. “Do you like the idea of that, duchess?” His mouth hovered over mine. “Me wanting you so badly that I can’t think around it. That I have to listen to your voice so I can stay sane enough to work?”

  Before I could answer him, he covered my mouth with his. The kiss was deeper. As if he wanted to search out and own every part of me. Not one to be passive for long, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and gripped his hair.

  The kiss built until I was wrapped around him, hanging on and giving back at the same time. It was too easy to do this. To lock into the lust that spun around us like we were the eye of a storm. Trapped in this place between where things felt too much like losing control and fighting for one-upmanship.

  I slowly controlled the kiss until it was softer. Until my fingers gentled in his hair to a slow, soothing stroke. He tore his mouth away from mine, his chest heaving.

  “What are you about, Lindsey?”

  “I’m about finding the real Alex in there. Not just the wild, hammering need. We know how to do that. We’re good at that.”

  His fingers dug into my hips. “Very good at it.” His gaze dipped to my mouth then back to my eyes.

  “I know we’re more.”

  The flash of fear made me wrap my other arm around his back to hold him close. I could feel him wanting to step back. It was easier to put the emotions in a box. Easier to walk into the blinding bolts of lust.

  But here, the shadows of emotion were more difficult to navigate. I knew I had to be the first one to give. I was just as untested when it came to this. The few relationships I’d had in my life were very surface.

  Fun.

  Easy.

  Forgettable.

  Alex was anything but forgettable.

  Eve
n if he ripped me apart, I’d never forget my time with him. I wouldn’t want to, I knew that now. The possible pain was worth the price. Worth the chance at everything.

  I went onto my toes and kissed him lightly. I snaked my hand up under his shirt where his scars lay. The places he tried to get me to avoid, I hunted them down. The uneven skin, the roughness, the so-called ugly parts of him he hated.

  His cock grew between us, pushing at me insistently even as he tried to back away from me. I would not be deterred. I pushed at his shirt until it landed on the floor.

  His inky hair was a disheveled mess from the misty evening and my hands. I trailed my fingers over the smoothness of his chest, touching the dark hair that grew around the mottled skin.

  Then I stepped around him, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder before coasting around to the other side of him. To his shoulder blades and the broad expanse of his back. Then to the rougher skin. The scars and silvery flesh, eternally discolored. He probably could have had plastic surgery to ease some of it, but I knew part of him wore it as his armor.

  He shivered as I kissed each and every inch, my tongue coming out to flick and dance along the burned edges of him.

  Accepting all the things about him he refused to share.

  I could be patient.

  The only thing I had to get through his stony skull was that I wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how much he growled.

  He was it for me.

  I paused at the skin along his arm as I made a complete circle around him.

  I loved him.

  I couldn’t deny it anymore. Not if I wanted him to own up to this thing growing between us. And not just the sex. The way he pushed me, made me laugh, made me scream.

  He was made for me.

  The same as I was made for him.

  His blue eyes were stark with emotion when I finally stood in front of him again. “I’m not afraid of us, Alex. I’m not afraid of the demons you carry. And if you’ll let me, you won’t have to carry them alone anymore.”

  He swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I do.” I cupped his face and he turned into my touch. I could see the disbelief swirling with the hope.

  Maybe, just maybe, we had a shot.

  I took his hand and led him toward the stairs. Luckily, the wide open space left little to the imagination. There was an upper level built in with an open half wall that looked over the main living space.

  I caught a glimpse of his bed and thought we would end up there. Instead, he pulled me deeper into the hallway beside his bathroom. There was another door with a palm plate.

  Glass and sky and moonlight greeted me.

  We climbed a sturdy wrought iron winding staircase. More greenery dripped and twined around the metal and wood as we got to the top. The air was steamy instead of cold. As if a greenhouse had been combined with the ultimate luxury oasis.

  A star-strewn sky greeted us. Somehow it even existed in the middle of the city.

  In the distance, Manhattan’s lights and life seemed set apart from this place. The whole area around Nash’s home was bleak and gray, but then there was this.

  He led me deeper into the space. Flowering vines twined up around three separate pergolas. He pushed a button and the windows slowly opened to the night sky. The coolness of the outside air instantly intruded on the wet heat of the space made for growing things.

  “This is incredible.” I slowly turned around to bring all the details in.

  Couches and tables were made up into little separate spaces. More notebooks and guitars were set more haphazardly. As if he lived here more than in the other space. A coffee cup, a bottle of water, even a Chinese takeout container sat on a table.

  This was where the real Alex resided.

  He came up behind me, sliding his arms around my waist. “My haven.”

  I twisted my neck so I could look into his eyes. “It’s gorgeous and wild.”

  He shrugged. “I like the sweet scents of flowers and tending plants calms the demons. I even added some that smell like you.” He pointed at the fresh shoots of orchids and night jasmine being trained to climb along a post stuck into an overflowing pot.

  My eyes misted. Thoughtful and sweet. Words I wasn’t sure I’d ever associate with this man. And yet he’d brought me here, to a place that was so secret in some circles people didn’t really believe it existed.

  Alexander Nash and his secret studio lair.

  I turned in his arms. “So, where’s the secret studio?”

  His eyebrow spiked. “Who says I have a studio?”

  “Unless you’re doing mixing in your bedroom with a tape recorder—uh, everyone.”

  He chuckled. “Is that really what you want to see right now?”

  “No. But you’ll show it to me?”

  “If you like.”

  I went onto my toes. “I like. I need to see where the magic happens.”

  He stepped back and led me to a huge U-shaped couch. “This is where most of the magic happens.” He sat down and patted the cushion next to him.

  “Oh, is that so?” I curled into the surprisingly comfy vinyl. Nash suddenly lifted me and settled me astride him. “Well now. More magic?”

  He leaned back against the couch, his long fingers on my hips.

  I settled my hands on his chest, squirming a little to get comfortable.

  “Easy, duchess. I’m hanging on by my fingernails here.”

  I lightly scraped my nails through the hair on his chest. “I like your haven.”

  “I do a lot of my work up here. I like the quiet. I have a very needy Rottweiler who likes all my attention.”

  “Is that so?”

  “He’s a cheeky little bastard, but I love him.”

  “Nothing small about him.”

  “You’ll learn that’s a very true statement when I take you to my bed.”

  “Who says I’m sleeping over?”

  “Well, it’s about twenty minutes until sunrise. So, I guess sleeping over is relative.”

  “Is it?” Surprised, I looked at the horizon where the first wash of buttery yellow was peeking from the midnight blue.

  “Even for early October, the sunrise is coming soon.”

  I was so buzzy on the new facets of Alex that I wasn’t the least bit tired. I knew the crash would come, and the idea of sleeping beside him held more appeal than I’d thought it would. I’d been single for so long, it seemed foreign to have someone in my space all night. We’d been sneaking around at Logan’s, then with my endless touring…

  Was that why I was so into him? That we actually weren’t together most of the time so it heightened everything?

  He lifted his hand to cup my head. “What’s going on in there?”

  “It feels like I’ve been yours forever.”

  His eyes heated. “You’ve been mine for three years, duchess. Even if you don’t want to own up to it.”

  “Who says I don’t?”

  “That perfect ass of yours was on fire as you ran from me that night.”

  I lifted my chin. “You weren’t exactly sweet. I’m not used to wanting a man who’s insulting me even as he’s fucking me.”

  His other hand came up to cradle my face and pull me down to him. “I was a fool.” His mouth landed on mine.

  This time, there was no dancing around the idea of what we would be. There was only the now. Showing him what we could be seemed even more important than our usual verbal sparring.

  I flipped off my shirt, and he went right for my breasts. I tipped back my head as he bit and licked and sucked every part of me. I arched my back to give him full access. No twisted clothing in the back of a car, no quick fuck fraught with the constant fight for dominance, and for once, there was no anger between us.

  I didn’t know what this was. I was too afraid to ask. So, I just let myself be in the moment.

  Where there had once been nothing but sunlight that day by the waterfall, we were now in the cool darkness bef
ore dawn. The heavy air of his greenhouse oasis mixed with the October air kissing my skin with each layer he peeled away.

  Pieces of me.

  Onion skins of armor.

  His.

  Mine.

  Shirts, pants, socks, boots. All of them scattered around us on the large tiles until it was nothing but me and him.

  Again, he drew me astride him—in a power position, which he almost never allowed. He always seemed to need to dominate me in some way. As if he was protecting me and holding me down at the same time.

  This time, it was languid and unhurried. Every kiss was as if he was starved for the oxygen only I could offer. His eyes were wild with lust and something more. Something I was scared to ask for even as I chased it.

  Emotions swirled in the haze of pleasure and the dreamy in-between place we never dared to step into. As he slid inside me, there was no race for the summit of pleasure. The cliff dive was as soft as a breeze, and for the first time, I didn’t fear the fall.

  I believed he’d actually be there with me the whole way.

  Sweat built up between our straining bodies. The slow and easy couldn’t last. Not forever. Not between us. The shift was effortless. The way he lifted his hips to get closer to me, the way he wrapped his arms around me until there was no space between us, the way he locked his blue flame gaze onto mine.

  I curled my arms around his shoulders and gripped his hair.

  I didn’t want it to end.

  Didn’t want to lose the closeness when he realized where we were heading.

  But the friction and the masterful way he owned my body destroyed the hazy limbo world and broke apart the last of my armor.

  I was already lost to this insane, overwhelming love.

  It didn’t make sense that it would be this man who found the way onto my lonely island. But he was mine now. His name was a keening cry to the sky before he covered my mouth with his and swallowed each shuddering breath.

  The warm rush of him emptying himself into me was like a balm.

  I shuddered with my own release and my nails raked through his inky dark hair as I swallowed his moans. Our heartbeats synced up in a whole new melody that would be forever ours.

  I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that. Me slumped over him like a boneless, melted marshmallow. The sun made its appearance, and I moaned as he shifted under me.