Getting Played (Getting Some, #2)(78)

Because right after I do, she slaps me. Hard and fast. With enough force to jerk my head to the side and leave my left cheek pulsing with the sting. It’s impressive.

“Ow.”

And it’s not like I didn’t deserve it.

But looking back now, that’s really when I should’ve known.

In that perfect, indelible, moment as we stare at each other—my eyes lapping her up and her jade gaze swallowing me whole, as each shiny copper strand on her head calls to my hands to stroke and twist and tug.

As we take each other in. Just a few dozen inches apart—taking and taking each other, and already craving more.

I should’ve known it then.

That she was going to wreck me, and I would happily let her.

That I would ruin her, and she’d make me swear to never stop.

That this . . . one splendid kiss and a spectacular slap . . . this was just our beginning.