Chapters (48)
- Cover
- PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
- Titles by Alexa Martin
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
He takes a step toward the bed before bending down and reaching for the hem of my shirt. “Your turn,” he whispers before dragging his teeth against my earlobe.
Goose bumps cover my body at the same time my nerves kick in.
Me? Get naked? In front of that? Seriously?!
He must sense my hesitation because instead of waiting for me to do it, he stands back up . . . pulling me with him.
“Don’t make me beg,” he says into the dark room. “I’ll do it, but don’t make me.”
He would beg to see me naked? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but something seems wrong with this scenario.
“I kind of want to see you beg now.” I mean for it to come out as a joke, but I still haven’t quite caught my breath from watching him take off his clothes and from the orgasm on the couch, so it comes out more as a whisper. A request.
And instead of him laughing, he drops to his knees. I try to tell him to get up, but I’ve forgotten how to speak. My brain has gone awry and all of the muscles that just stopped quivering tighten again. He doesn’t even need to touch me. The sight of him, almost naked and on his knees, is enough.
But then he speaks.
“If you had any idea the amount of times I’ve walked into this room and pictured you right in this very spot, you’d think I was crazy.” He curls his fingers into the waistband of my leggings. The scrape of his fingernails against my skin makes me shiver. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You are funny and infuriating and brilliant. You’ve brought me to my knees, literally. Please, let me see you.”
My mouth has gone dry and I don’t trust myself to say anything, so instead, I bite the inside of my lip to try and hide my nerves as I nod my head.
“Thank you,” he says as he starts pulling down my leggings. He hasn’t gone far before he lets out a hiss of air. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”
“They’re legg—” I start to explain, but the explanation dies on my lips as soon as his mouth lands on me. “Oh my god.”
My eyes slam shut and my mouth falls open as his tongue finds the target on his first try. I dig my hands into his coarse hair. I don’t know if I’m doing it to pull him closer, push him away, or just to hold on.