Page 45 of Playing Hard to Get

So good.

So fucking good.

Vivian pulled me to her as she lifted her hips to meet mine, a steady rhythm set between us. Those long, delicate fingers grazed over my flesh, my scars, my ink. Learning me. Knowing me.

Reminding me.

I would tell her. Somehow. Somehow, I’d find a way. But not now. Not now. All I wanted was to feel her. Fill her. Taste her.

“Vivian,” I murmured against her neck. She moaned as my tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat.

“Please, Mitch, don't stop.”

I rocked with her, gentle and unhurried, making love to my sweet, sweet girl. How she could ever think she was bad, I’d never know. Because everything about her—her taste, her smell, her touch—they are all heaven-sent.

When her walls tightened around me, when I heard those moans of her pleasured release, I let go, spilling everything I had. Her name fell from my lips, brushing against her skin in whispers as I pulsed inside of her.

I hovered over her, grounded in her center, and kissed her sweet, sweet mouth. Her tongue swirled mine, claiming me and all that I was. Taking my breath, my heart, my life.

She pulled me down next to her and my hot skin cooled against the tile. Vivian snuggled against me, one leg wrapped over mine as her fingers crawled across my chest.

“That was beautiful,” she told me.

My eyes met with warm ocean waves. The subtle smile on her face pulled hard at something inside of me.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered against her forehead.

“Don't.” Vivian lifted up, her face close to mine. “You’ll tell me when you're ready.”

Nodding, I kissed her lips. She settled her head against my shoulder, but jumped when my cell phone came alive on the kitchen table.

“That’s for work,” I mumbled.

Her hand splayed against my chest. “Just let it ring.”

“Can’t.” My eyes squeezed shut, my heart began to race. A line of sweat formed on my upper lip. “They need me. Can’t let them die.”

“No one’s dying,” she told me, palm cupping my cheek. “It’s just wo—”

“I can’t let them die!” I yelled, panic gripping me tight.

Beside me, Vivian flinched. Pulled her hand away. My scars throbbed, the screaming in my ears blaring so loud, even pinning my palms to the sides of my head couldn’t stop the noise. I felt like I was dying. Felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Felt like death would be better than this.

The ringing stopped, and I sucked in a sharp breath. My eyes flashed open, frantic, only to find her wide, terrified baby blues staring back at me. She held the phone in her hand at her side.

“Viv.” It was a plea, but for what, I didn’t know. Just wanted things to go back to how they were. Wanted her sweet body under mine, the slow rocking of our hips, the tight flutter of her walls around my dick. Wanted her lips, her ass, her breasts, everything about her.

Wanted her to take away my pain.

Her brow furrowed, beautiful lips pulling down into a frown. When the phone at her side rang again, she held it out to me. “You better get that.”

I rose, forcing myself out of the dark depths I’d sunk into. Forced myself to take a breath, to slow my heart. I stepped into my shorts, then pressed a kiss to her pouty lips before taking my cell from her outstretched hand. I grimaced as I read the name on the screen.

My greeting was full of this sad sort of cheer I couldn’t muster up inside me, but I forced out anyway. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Mitch, we need you in Florida,” Frankie said, ignoring anything but the business on her mind. The girl needed to learn to chill out sometimes. “Daginger let Weston go. He’s demanding a replacement ASAP, and you're our guy.”