Page 75 of Dirty Fighter

Jesus, I can’t stand that she’s carried this alone for so long. That her mother did such a number on her that it’s taken until now for her to be able to tell someone what happened in her past. Why she was afraid.

The fact that she trusted me is beyond humbling.

I want to take her in my arms and promise her that she can tell me anything. That I’ll be here for her. That I’ll love her. Because yeah, I’m in love with her. A part of me has been in love with her from the night we met, and maybe it was a youthful kind of love without the depth of understanding about who someone really is or who they will become… but after these last days together, I’ve seen who she has become. And I love her.

But telling her that now?

It wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.

I don’t want to take her hard-earned freedom or her hope of finding that easy sense of escape from her.

Her former fiancé and the plans they’d made together are barely in the rearview. She told me flat-out that the last thing she’s looking for is a relationship.

So yeah, I know what I want. But before I go after it, I’m going to give her what she asked for first. Some fun. Okay, a lot of fucking fun. A few easy days together. And then, maybe I ask her for her phone number before I ask her to move to Chicago with me.

Maybe.

26

Rowan

I’m not sure who woke who up.

It’s unclear which wandering hand made first contact while we lingered in that hazy half-asleep state. Or how exactly we went from holding each other to devouring each other to Jason’s southbound detour. But…

“Please… like that… Jason!” My fingers are knotted in his hair as I shamelessly beg this man, whose seductive skills are beyond measure, for more.

And he’s giving it to me. Making me gasp and writhe and tip into his deepening kiss.

“Up, baby,” he growls from between my legs. “Want you to watch me make you come.”

Wow. I almost finish right then. But I do as he says, somehow managing to push to my elbows so I can see the sexy satisfied look in his eyes when he⁠—

“Jason,” I gasp as he licks and sucks at my most sensitive flesh, pleasure-laced tension building deep inside me, straining and pulling.

“Give it to me, Rowan.”

He sounds like he’s getting off on this more than I am. Impossible.

“Come on… Let me have it.”

More ravenous kisses.

“So… close.” I’m almost there.

More of that building perfect ache.

More of that too-intense, too-sexy eye contact.

“Want to taste you coming on my tongue.”

And that’s it. I’m tipping over the edge, coming hard in wave after wave of relentless bliss while Jason’s eyes never leave mine.

His kiss softens. Slows as he lingers with me in the aftermath. And then he’s rising up on his knees, looking me over in a way that promises what he just gave me was only the prelude.

God, that look is so potent, my body is already starting to ache for him again.

“Need you,” I whisper as he moves over me, powerful arms braced at either side, impossibly broad shoulders flexed, the gilded tips of his bedhead begging for my fingers to get lost in it.