“You were saying?” he murmurs against my skin, his tongue flicking ever closer to my clit as his fingers slide along my folds. But just like the torture king that he is, he won’t give me the satisfaction.
Not yet, anyway.
I smile down at him, my hips arching toward him as his hands run along my body. “Maybe you got lucky.”
“That must be it.”
I glance to my right, spying a game. Grabbing it up, I hold it out to him. “What’s this?”
“Not something I’m interested in doing right now?” Dylan chuckles at my heated glare. “It was a Christmas gift from some people in the office a couple of years ago. Do you want to play?”
“Is it sexual?”
He takes the box, leading me over to the pile of blankets in front of the fire. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you lying?”
“Do you want to play or not? This was your idea.”
I plop down by the fire, nodding in his direction. “Sure. I’ll go first.”
Dylan smirks, shuffling the cards before pulling one out. He shakes his head, laughing as he reads the card. “Forget it. I think I know the answer to this one, and if I don’t, I don’t want to know.”
“Come on, what’s the question?”
Dylan inches closer to me on the rug. Then, just like we used to do a decade earlier, he plants one foot on either side of me, and I rest my forearms on his knees. It’s how we always talked—about love, life and the great beyond. “Where’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? I’m going to be so upset if it’s not the water tower.”
Should I mess with him? Tempting idea, but I’ll be nice. This time. “Oh my God, the water tower. It was freezing! What were we thinking?”
“That we were horny and needed to fuck?”
“Good point,” I concede. “Granted, we were always horny.” I grab the cards, pulling one from the deck. “Do you own any sex toys? Dylan, this is totally a sex game.”
“Do you want me to answer the question or argue about the sexual nature of the game?”
I sigh, shaking my head in mock anger. “On with it, then. Do you own any?”
“I think that’s more a female thing. I have condoms and that’s about it.”
“I don’t think that qualifies as a toy by any stretch.”
“No, but it does allow me to play.”
I still, his words ripping through the fun banter. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but my brain doesn’t care. It sends out a flash of visuals, all of Dylan engaging in safe, condom-filled sex with a variety of eager women. “Right. It’s your turn.”
If he senses my sudden discomfort, he doesn’t let on, as he pulls another card from the deck. “Request a kiss from any player. Lay one on me, Sunshine.”
I hate how handsome he is, leaning back on his elbows, the flannel shirt unbuttoned enough to show a hint of his dark chest hair.
“It doesn’t say that,” I counter, smacking lightly at his knee.
Without missing a beat, Dylan flips the card around, proving that it does indeed say that.
“You said this game wasn’t sexual, but every question has been sexual.”
He shrugs, that sexy smirk decorating his face. “I may have lied.”
“I am shocked and appalled.”
“And stalling,” he reminds me.
Bastard. I crawl toward him, wincing as I graze my injured knee. With great ceremony, I cup his face, planting chaste kisses on either cheek.
“Poppy, that doesn’t even qualify for half credit.”
My hand flies to my chest, my eyes widening with fake shock. “The question said to request a kiss from another player. I gave you a kiss. Two, in fact.”
“If you’re happy doing the bare minimum, then I suppose it will have to do.”
“You think you can do better?” I watch his eyes alight at my question.
Watch out Poppy, this man is getting ready to rock your world.
Dylan raises up, his hands drifting up my legs. “Without a doubt.”
I move back, resting against the pile of pillows, and offer him a sweet smile and shrug. “Show me, then.”
He’s on top of me in the next moment, propping himself up on his hands as his body skates along mine. His lips hover mere centimeters from my skin as his breath heats up my every cell. Traveling up from my waist to my collarbone, along my neck, down my jaw—almost touching but never making contact.
Upping the ante. Making me desperate for him. Dylan loves when I’m desperate for him.
His lips barely dust mine, the texture of his beard adding in a whole new level of sensation. “Do you want me to kiss you, Poppy?”
I can barely breathe. I’m wound tight as a drum, my hands clenched at my sides. I open my mouth to speak, but words are too tricky. All I can manage is a low moan.
“Is that a yes?” Dylan presses, smiling as he tongues the corner of my mouth. “I couldn’t quite understand you.”
I raise my hands to his face, tracing along the chiseled jaw covered by the soft beard. “I hate that you’re even better looking than I remembered, which I thought would be impossible.”
He tilts his head into my hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I thought you hated men with beards.”
I feel my cheeks burn. “I…may have been lying.”
“Oh, you were? I damn near shaved it off this morning.”
I bite my lip, my fingers tracing along his mouth. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Admit that you like it.”
“What do I get if I admit it?” I’m not above bargaining, particularly when my body is primed and ready.
“Everything, my Sunshine Girl.”
Our gazes meet, his dark eyes probing my soul. He can read me like a book. “I want everything.”
Dylan nuzzles my lips, his fingers tightening in my hair, his tongue gliding along the seam of my mouth, begging entrance. The last couple of kisses were imbued with anger, frustration. This kiss is nothing short of spectacular.
Kissing him is like coming home to a memory. Waking up in the dream. All the passion, all the anguish vanishes as his mouth captures mine. With a sigh, I fall into the kiss, our tongues sliding against each other. Remembering. Rediscovering. Desperate for more I twine my arms around his neck, pulling myself against him.
Dylan’s hands wrap around my hips, sliding under the panels of my robe to caress my skin. A low groan sounds from his throat as he controls the kiss. Every move slow and torturous and delicious.
I pull back, licking my lips, my gaze holding his. “That kiss is much better than all those angry ones.”
“A definite improvement. But I think we need a ton more practice.”
“Agreed.”
I see all the passion in his gaze, as his fingers pull apart my robe, exposing my body to him. “Poppy, my God. I could feast on this body for hours.”
“What’s stopping you?” I inquire, dancing my fingers along his scalp.
“Nothing now.” My nipples harden as he cups my breasts, taking first one and then the other into his mouth and flicking his tongue across the tips.
Any vestiges holding me back from Dylan release, and I arch toward him, desperate for his touch. He wastes no time stripping me down, and I see the approval dancing in his eyes as he sweeps the entire length of my body.