Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(16)



I’m just speechless. As our relationship progresses? I’m stuck like stupid on that one sentence.

“What relationship?” I ask, confused. “We’ve known each other for three minutes. We haven’t even had a whole date.”

Will’s jaw drops and he blinks rapidly, then clenches his jaw and glares at me.

“What, exactly, do you think I’m trying to pursue here, Megan? If I just wanted to f*ck you and bail, I would have backed off as soon as you told me no at my sister’s party.” He shakes his head and pushes his pizza away.

“I just…” I begin, but he interrupts me, not hearing me.

“Yes, it’s early, but f*ck Megan, all I do is think about you. You’ve gotten under my skin. I want to learn your body. I want to know what it feels like to sink inside of you.” He swallows hard and so do I as I squeeze my thighs together and feel myself go wet.

“But I also want to know what makes you laugh. What pisses you off. What you’re passionate about. I just want to learn everything about you. You’re in my head, and I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Jesus, I don’t give shout-outs to women during every game for f*ck sake.”

He looks truly rattled and I soften, just a bit. Moving fast? A little. But he wants me safe, and I can appreciate that.

We have a relationship. Huh.

“I want to get to know you too,” I murmur and smile happily.

“So,” he continues and looks up at me with serious blue eyes. “Please be patient with me, and just set the damn alarm when you leave, and when you’re alone inside.”

“Okay,” I shrug like it’s no big, and continue eating my pizza.

“You’re not going to argue?”

“No, why would I? It’s just an alarm. But I don’t like being bossed around, so just talk to me about stuff, okay?”

Will smirks and sets both of our empty plates aside. He lifts himself onto the couch, his arms flexing all sexy-like and I just sit back and watch him move.

He’s just so… hot.

Suddenly, he’s pulling me in his arms, settles me against him, kisses the top of my head and grabs the remote to my television.

“What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh.

“Watching TV.”

“Why?”

“Because you won’t let me make love to you, so I have to distract myself somehow.”

Holy shit on a stick.

I gape up at him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about the three date rule?”

“Are you turning this whole pizza and TV thing into a date?” I ask him, suddenly hopeful.

“You noticed.” He kisses my nose and smiles proudly at me.

“Then no, I haven’t changed my mind.” I settle against him and watch him flip through the channels. When he gets to the movie channels, and finds them blocked out, he frowns down at me.

“No movie channels?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They charge an arm and a leg for them, and I wouldn’t watch them often anyway. I just go to one of the kiosk things for movies when I’m in the mood.”

“Hmm, okay.” His hand is moving rhythmically up and down my side, gently caressing me through my dress. My arm is around his lean waist, and I really, really want to feel his smooth skin, so I lift the hem of his soft shirt and slide my hand under it against his ripped abs. He sucks in a breath and his stomach tightens, but as he gets used to my touch, he exhales and kisses the top of my head.

I smile smugly as I feel him lift the hem of my dress and slide his hand under it, caressing my skin along my thigh.

God, that feels good.

I sigh and continue to touch him, enjoying his skin, the way his breath hitches when I hit a ticklish spot. I feel him wince when I touch one of his ribs and I frown up at him.

“Does that hurt?”

“A little,” his face is calm and he doesn’t explain further. I move my hand lightly over the rib again and he grimaces.

“A little, my ass.” I climb over him and pull his shirt up so I can see his ribs and sure enough, there is a deep purple bruise. “Sunday?” I ask.

“Yeah. No big deal.”

I glare up at him and then down at the bruise again. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m not in love with it myself, sweetheart,” he laughs and pulls me back to him.

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Meg, I have three hundred pound guys crashing into me. Of course I get bumped and bruised. I’ll live.”

I frown again and look down at his chest, not saying anything. I hate the thought of him getting hurt.

He tilts my head back with his fingers on my chin and smiles softly down at me. “I’m okay.”

I run my fingers down his smooth cheek. His eyes close as he leans into my touch, then he kisses my palm, and pins me with those blue eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispers.

“It’s about time,” I whisper back. He grins and kisses my forehead, down to my nose, over to the dimple in my cheek, and then lays those lips on mine, resting them there, for just a second, and then he starts to move. Those amazing lips nibble mine, and finally his tongue licks my bottom lip and leisurely makes love to my own, dancing and twirling, gently exploring me.

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