Page 16 of Ruthless Game

The rest of me wanted to pull her against my chest, lock her in my arms, bury my nose in her hair, and get a good night of sleep for the first time in years.

The rest of me won.

With a low, alien sound of surrender, I did just that, tugging her reluctant body into my arms and wrapping my arms around her like a metal lap bar on a rollercoaster. The scent of lavender and warmth surrounded me immediately.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I told her gruffly, lost in the softness of her curves, her skin.

“I thought we were going back to Gehenom,” she snarked. “Did you change your mind?”

“Tonight,” I clarified.

But what I meant was, you aren’t going anywhere that I won’t follow.

“Can you get that thing off my ass?” she complained, clearly in the mood to fuss at me.

“Your body makes my cock hard. Don’t take it personally, and don’t worry—I won’t be fucking you with it. Yet.”

“If that’s part of our ‘deal’ …”

“It will be.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am now. Go to sleep.”

She shut her mouth then, rigid in my arms. Despite myself, I stroked her stomach over my t-shirt, like a claim or a promise I should never make, and she settled. Inhaling the scent I’d once thought of as home, I listened to her soft breathing, lulled by the sweet, sharp ache of everything I’d lost and never thought I’d have again.

As I fell asleep, I reminded myself this was only temporary. I’d take from her what I needed to, and after, I’d never need her—or anyone—to sleep again.

I slept more soundly that night than I had in three years.

5

Emma

Desire poured through me, slow, sticky, and sweet. I writhed underneath him, held in place by something, staring into his deep blue eyes as he played my clit with his thumb, making me gasp.

I moaned, and he kissed me, swallowing the sound as pleasure rose in me, ready to crest.

“I’m close,” I whimpered.

“Good.”

“Lawson …”

“Call me Max, Starburst. Call me Max while you come.”

“Maaaaaxxxxx …”

“Such a good girl, Emma.”

“Emma.”

I opened my eyes, reality coming into focus. An airplane seatback. A seatbelt across my lap. That’s what had been holding me in place in my dream.

We were in business class on the flight back to New York, and I’d been asleep. Dreaming of Lawson and me, together in a way we’d never been, but I still fantasized about, even when I was unconscious, apparently. Even now, with Lawson in the seat next to mine, head twisted and staring at me, amusement on his lips and lust coloring his gaze.

“Were you dreaming, Angel? You called me Max. What were you dreaming about, I wonder?” He tapped his chin. “Were we fucking?”