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Play Dirty: Brooklyn Dawn Book 1

Page 30

by Quinn, Cari


  “Alex,” I yelped as he stood up.

  He just grinned at me and locked his hands under my ass. “I need my bed, duchess.”

  My head fell onto his shoulder. “I can walk.”

  “Sure about that, Gumby?”

  “Shut up.” I wasn’t quite at modeling clay status, but it was damn close. “You’ll kill us if you try to go down those stairs with me.”

  “Handy, I have an elevator.”

  “You do?”

  “You think I brought up all those plants and furniture through my bedroom?”

  “Hmm. That’s true.” I laced my hands behind his neck and swung my legs a little. “Romantic fool.”

  “Fool is right.”

  I bit his shoulder, thrilled when he growled in response. He ambled under another pergola with thicker vines and exploding flowers to an industrial elevator, cage door and all. It smelled of earthy things I’d never be able to name, but it seemed sturdy enough for the two of us. We went down one floor, but instead of going through the same gate, he turned around and punched a button. The other side of the elevator slid open with barely a whisper.

  “Oh my God, do you have a secret passageway?” Giddy, I bounced a little in his arms.

  He grunted. “Possibly.”

  “How positively medieval.” I peered around the narrow hallway lit with a thin line of LED lights along the floor. It wasn’t candlelight and spiderwebs, but I was not surprised Nash had a secret passageway.

  I would’ve actually been disappointed if he hadn’t, considering his level of secrecy in all things.

  He pressed a button and the end of the hallway opened into a dimly lit room. He kept walking and the soft click of the doorway closing revealed a huge shelving unit. “So cool.”

  He shook his head, but his lips were twitching.

  I gripped his shoulders as he swung me around to the bed, but it was too late, he let me go. I bounced onto the bed with a snap of teeth. “You’re such an asshole.”

  He crawled over me with a devilish grin. “You love that I don’t treat you like glass.”

  I scuttled back and bumped into something furry. The hiss of a cat had me curling around Nash again.

  He laughed then reached over me to stroke down the massive tabby cat. Sarge’s green eye didn’t leave mine even as he purred for Nash. He neatly leaped down to the floor and sauntered out of the room.

  The thump of heavy paws was my only warning before Brutus, who weighed about as much as Jamie, leaped on Nash and the two of them flattened me.

  I let out a gasp that turned into a giggle as Brutus stood on Nash’s back, his huge paws digging into his shoulder. I peeked over to see his massive paw denting my man’s superior backside as well.

  Nash tried to wiggle him off, but Brutus thought it was playtime.

  My laughter turned into a squeal as the dog hit him in a tender place. Nash let out a howl, which Brutus echoed with feverish glee.

  I was curled into a ball laughing while Nash tried to push him off the bed. “Not today, B.”

  I pulled a pillow in front of my chest to protect myself from Brutus’s sandpaper-grade feet. “Does he sleep with you?” I couldn’t put the smile away, especially when Nash’s cheeks went hot. “Oh, he does.”

  “I don’t have houseguests if you recall.”

  My laughter faded as the dog finally settled between us on the wide mattress. I tucked my chin into the heavy muscle of the dog’s neck and stroked his huge block of a head. He cuddled back against me, wiggling for more, kicking Nash right out of bed.

  “Nice.” He stood with his hands on his hips. It didn’t seem like anything was the worse for wear. Mostly.

  I cuddled into the dog. “Grab me a T-shirt. Looks like this big baby wants to snuggle too.”

  “Cock-blocked by my fucking dog,” he muttered and stomped away.

  He came back with a pair of boxers on to protect himself and a black Ramones T-shirt for me. He tossed it at my head. “Should I leave you two alone?”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes.”

  I giggled and nudged the dog to the other side of the bed to make room for Nash to curl around my back. Brutus settled in with a grunt and a snore.

  Nash narrowed his eyes as he walked around the bed. “Does this mean you don’t need the T-shirt?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Skin to skin is reserved solely for you, pal.”

  He grunted, much like his dog, and crawled in behind me. “I suppose that will have to do.” He stroked a proprietary hand down my hip and slapped my ass. “My dog won’t save you every time.”

  I grinned and settled back against Nash. “I don’t need saving.”

  He gave Brutus a quick stroke down his silky ears then wrapped his arm around me. “Lights.” His voice was loud enough to carry, and the whole room fell into darkness save for a shaft of sunlight beaming down across the plants on the lower level.

  Our little haven was thick with shadows, and the warmth of the both of them soothed my weary heart. The day had definitely taken a turn. For now, I was just going to enjoy the moment and let the rest of the details work themselves out later.

  “I’m glad you’re here, duchess.”

  I smiled into the dark. “Me too.”

  Twenty-Nine

  I sat at my office desk. The trio of forty-inch screens set up with my favorite tools of the trade blipped to life. I pulled the studio headphones over my ears.

  My skin was still buzzy from the hit of the pharmaceutical and street cocktail I used to get through the day.

  I’d had to bump it up last night. Enough that I couldn’t enjoy listening to my favorite personal podcast. It took some studio magic to make it worthy of re-listens, but I was a fucking magician. My fingers shook a little as I tapped the keys to pull my recordings from Nash’s house.

  The microphones I’d placed only recorded when it picked up a voice.

  I was tired of the endless self-flagellation. Jagged piano and lyrics at all hours didn’t give me anything to work with.

  Except that one song. The one he’d left behind in Winchester Falls.

  Too distracted by his bird to pay attention to his precious lyrics.

  I’d made a few tweaks. Sending it off to Angel Martin had been inspired.

  But that had been a bit ago. A surprise visit from her should give me plenty of new audio for my collection.

  I flicked through the channels on the lower level of his house and frowned at the conversation.

  It was too short.

  I flicked to the bedroom. No data.

  Sweat prickled the back of my neck. I checked that I had the proper channels cued up.

  The time stamp didn’t match the small recordings from downstairs.

  I rewound and lifted the volume.

  “I’m not afraid of us, Alex. I’m not afraid of the demons you carry. And if you let me, you won’t have to carry them alone anymore.”

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

  “I do.”

  Jesus. He didn’t deserve any of that. None of it.

  I pushed the sliders all the way up on my board. Silence.

  I snarled at the screen. Incremental ambient noises.

  Not enough.

  “Fuck.” When I stood, my chair wheeled away.

  I clicked through all the rooms on my three screens.

  There. A small spike. I zeroed in and heard the metallic latch in his bedroom.

  I kicked my studio chair and bent over the keys, fast forwarding and rewinding. Their voices faded.

  I lifted one of my screens and hurled it against the soundproofed wall. Cords snapped and everything went black across my monitors.

  There was only one place I didn’t have microphones.

  Only one place that was off limits to everyone.

  Even me.

  Loyalty and blood didn’t matter when it came to that one space.

  And he brought that whore there.

  The rooftop.

/>   Thirty

  Boneless.

  I rolled onto my stomach with a sigh. My entire body felt like melted caramel. Such a difference from the last few weeks. I’d pushed too hard, demanded too much of myself.

  Now I felt like I was living on a cloud.

  I didn’t ever want to leave this bed.

  This hotel had magical properties.

  No.

  I drew in a breath as pleasure dented the dream. Warm and wet and soft. Languid waves turned into tingles and tripped out of my lips on a sigh.

  “Are you finally awake, duchess?”

  I hugged the pillow to my chest, afraid to open my eyes and ruin the moment. I smiled into the pillow, his scent making me dizzy.

  “I’ll just have to wake you up then.”

  My toes curled as he spread my thighs and the warm, wet sensation went from dreamy-sweet to intense.

  I reached up to find something to hang onto and found the corner of his mattress. He had me laid out diagonally on the bed. We’d been conforming to the human-sized Brutus all night, but he was gone.

  Now there was just Nash. And his ridiculously talented tongue.

  His laugh vibrated against my inner thigh. “That’s right, duchess. Hold on.”

  He invaded every inch of me. There was nothing off-limits when it came to us in bed. Not that we generally did this sort of thing in a bed.

  I scrabbled for the headboard. It was leather and smooth. Nothing to hold onto.

  When he slid two fingers inside me, my eyes popped wide.

  The bedside table came into view, as did an unblinking cat. “Oh, God.”

  His dark laugh in answer ramped up the thick, syrupy drowning sensation I loved to lean into. No one could make me as mindless and blissfully empty as Alex, but I couldn’t…let go with a cat watching me.

  Alex lifted me onto my knees, and I yelped.

  Sarge lifted a paw and licked it, then stroked his ear. The whole time, still fucking watching.

  “Ignore him.” Alex teased a thumb between my cheeks. “Concentrate on me.”

  “I can’t.” I put my head into my hands. The T-shirt slid down to my neck, giving me a little cover, but I could still feel Sarge’s eyes on us.

  Dispassionate and judgy at the same time.

  Alex reached up to cup a breast, tugging at my nipple until I hissed out his name. “I thought you liked an audience.”

  “Onstage,” I said on a groan. “God, what are you doing with your…”

  His laugh was answered with the swirl of his tongue as he searched out every inch of my pussy. Then he flipped me over. “Eyes on me, Lindsey.”

  My eyes widened. He so rarely said my real name. The Irish was thick and soft around it, making it sound even more like an endearment.

  He slid his hand up over my hip, then detoured to the slim strip of blond hair above my slit. He followed the proverbial arrow to my clit and stroked it slowly. His eyes were more of a stormy silver in the sunlight. His dark hair tumbled around his face, making it seem softer and less severe.

  Everything seemed easier today.

  I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers with his between my legs.

  Silver went to smoke as we both stroked the swollen folds.

  I lifted my other hand to cup my breast.

  “Shirt off. I want to see you.”

  My smile was slow. I lifted the ancient Ramones shirt until the edge of one nipple was revealed.

  His gaze narrowed and his fingers tightened around mine, peeling me open so he could take more. He flipped my knee over his shoulder to get me open even more. “Shirt.”

  I tugged at my nipple and watched him. “Not yet.”

  He sucked my clit hard, letting it go with a snap of his thumb as a chaser. I bucked under his mouth, but then he moved his tongue to the outer edges. It felt good, but it wasn’t where I needed him.

  I plucked my nipple. I even tried to twist my fingers out of his, but he held me fast.

  “Feel that tight little clit? I know what you need, but not until I see those perfect tits.”

  I tugged the shirt up a little more but hid the other breast. “I’m not ready to show you.”

  He used my own thumb to strum over my clit. “Is that right?”

  I closed my eyes against the teasing pressure. Not enough to make me come, just enough to make me insane. I tugged harder at my nipple, the T-shirt covering my free hand.

  “Duchess.”

  I arched, rotating my hips against my thumb to get what I needed.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” He held my thumb tight to the top of my clit and fucked me with his tongue.

  It was amazing, but not enough to fill me. To stretch and touch all the parts of me he knew so well.

  “Fucking tease,” I growled.

  “Who’s the tease? I’m here doing all the work. The least you can do is show me those perfect breasts.”

  “Work?” I ground the heel of my foot into his shoulder.

  He grunted, but he was smiling around his so-called work.

  Bastard.

  The lashes of his tongue slowed to barely a lick. “I’m waiting.”

  I pulled a pillow under my head, propping myself up until the T-shirt slid down to my ribs. I traced lazy circles on my belly. “Me too.”

  He crawled up and over me, never letting go of my hand. Instead, he pinned it over my head and hovered over my mouth. “Do you live to be obstinate?”

  “Only around you it seems.”

  He glanced up and over my shoulder. “Beat it, Sarge.”

  “Oh my God, is he still watching?”

  “Cats are a bit like you.”

  “Shut up.”

  He smiled down at me. “They their own thing, giving a disdainful look down their nose as they do it.”

  I wrapped my legs around his hips and flipped him until I was on top.

  “Jesus.”

  I reached between us for his very tight, very crowded boxers. “I’d say you need a little relief, sir.”

  He shifted until it was him with the comfy pillow, watching me out of narrowed slitted eyes. “And you’d be the one to give it then?”

  I tipped my head with a grin, then flipped my shirt off. I was tempted to toss it at the cat so he’d stop watching, but to hell with it. I loved animals too much to scare one.

  Nash’s gaze was appreciative enough that I tossed it at his head instead. His belly laugh made my heart arrow its way up my throat. Dammit, this man would tear me to pieces, and I still couldn’t stop loving him.

  It got worse with each day.

  I wanted to strangle him.

  I wanted to fuck him.

  I wanted to kiss him and hold onto him.

  I wanted to fix him.

  And that was dangerous in so many ways.

  He brought the shirt to his nose and inhaled. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to change my sheets or wash this shirt. I like your scent on me.” He licked his lips. “All over me.” He tried to pull me up higher on his chest. “I want more of it. Always.”

  My head spun. “You make me crazy when you say stuff like that.”

  “Only right since I’ve been fucking insane since I met you, duchess.”

  I caged him in with my hands on either side of his head. “We make each other insane. But it’s more than that, Alex.”

  His eyes were wary, but he didn’t dispute it. And that would be enough for now. Everything between us was still brilliant and chaotic. I brushed his lips with mine. He tasted of me and rumpled sheets. Of too little sleep and perfection.

  He tasted mine.

  I nipped my way over his jaw to his ear. “Put your cock inside me, Alex.”

  He growled and slipped his hands between us. “Fuck you, duchess? Isn’t that what you mean?”

  “No.”

  He stilled.

  “I want more than that.” My arms shook with nerves. I wanted him to make love to me—with me. I was being a coward, but I wasn’t sure I could take him pushing m
e away right now.

  I wanted him to want this.

  I didn’t want to have to force him to see what was so good between us.

  His eyes, flinty silver with so much endless blue in them, were vivid with some emotion I didn’t want to define. I didn’t want to be wrong.

  But he had to feel it.

  Please God, let him feel it.

  He shoved his boxers aside and slipped into me. I sat up, so I was astride him, taking him deeper. I smoothed my hands over his chest and up to his neck. I had to fight the urge to drive myself up and over that precipice that was still so close. I was pretty sure the anger and passion would always war within us, but for now I wanted only the joy.

  We deserved it.

  He stroked his fingers down my arm to my wrist, and finally, to my hand. Lacing his fingers with mine, he rose up to meet my mouth in a long, silky, drugging kiss. He wrapped his other arm around my back, and we moved like air and water.

  Tender and gentle with one another.

  His jagged pieces were met with my curves and softness.

  My need matched his.

  We were a twisted jungle of vines in the center of his bed. Sweat and laughter rushed up between us. He sucked his way up my neck and pushed my hair out of the way so he could tug on my ear.

  “Nothing feels like you. Nothing will ever match this.”

  I shivered at his words, wrapping my arms around him. His thrusts came harder. We couldn’t avoid the end.

  It was always there, waiting for us.

  “This is just the beginning,” I panted into his mouth. I bit down on his lower lip as the strangling vines of pleasure wrapped around me and strengthened with each thrust. His name was a chant and a prayer as the bright, sunny room went dark for a moment.

  His groan echoed into me and flowered like the orchids he planted for me.

  He held onto me as I shivered and vibrated around him.

  He tucked his chin against my neck. I was pretty sure he was shaking just as badly. All I could do was hold him back.

  We stayed like that until our legs were too numb to hold the position.

  We slumped onto the bed. The shafts of sunlight had moved to slash across our tangled legs. He kissed my shoulder and opened his mouth to say something.

 

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