The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(75)

“Kiss me.”

His face softened and he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Dark and dirty, hot and horny, sweet and utterly seductive. Damn, the man could kiss.

“I want you inside me.” She swallowed hard. “I want . . . you.”

“You have me—all of me.” He pushed deep, filling her, stretching her, making her feel every inch of him. His smoldering eyes watched her intently, sending a current of need arrowing straight to her core. When she moaned, he moved his hips in just the right way to hit her most sensitive spot. Pleasure licked through her body and she surged toward the peak.

“Don’t stop.”

“No chance of that.” His gaze didn’t leave hers as he pulled out and thrust again, his hips moving hard and fast, arms braced on either side of her. The world fell away until there was only Jay, his scent, his heat, his muscles tightening and releasing, and his eyes locked on her like she truly was the most beautiful woman in the world. Heart-squeezing tenderness and wild heat.

She came in a roll of pleasure, a soul-deep release as she let herself go. Jay followed her with a quiet shudder that ripped the tension out of his muscular body with a groan.

“Fuck.” He fell forward, his body covering hers, taking his weight on his elbows beside her. Small kisses to her lips made her feel seen and not forgotten.

“We just did.” She looked up to her hands and he released them with one tug.

“Touch me, sweetheart. I want to feel your hands on me.”

She held him close for what seemed like forever, breathing in his scent of sex and sweat and the lingering hint of his cologne. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You made one of my fantasies come true.”

“Anytime.” He kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheeks and eyelids, branding her with his heat.

“Do you have a fantasy?” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, loving the feel of his rock-hard muscles beneath her palms.

He reached for his utility belt. “What we just did. But with handcuffs.”

Zara grinned. “This time I’m wearing the uniform.”



* * *



? ? ?

Hours later, after they’d exhausted every combination of uniforms and handcuffs, they lay together in Zara’s bed, her head on his chest, his warm hand stroking down her back.

“I’m sorry I left the event,” she said quietly, needing to address the unspoken tension between them. “I appreciated what you did, but I didn’t think you would want me hanging around after that.” Her hand fisted on his chest. “You were trying to impress your investors and I was trying to help you, but everything went wrong from the moment I put on that suit. It just wasn’t me and I could see things were going to continue to go downhill after I took off my shoes. I’m no Brittany, and I don’t want to be, but she’s the kind of woman you told me you were looking for when we agreed I would find you a match.”

“That was my decision, not yours.” He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “And don’t pretend this is about Brittany. You are much too self-assured to put yourself down that way. You know she has nothing on you. The real issue is that you like me too much.”

“Seriously?” Zara pushed herself up. “I like you too much? Is it possible to be more arrogant?”

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but you know it’s true.” Jay grinned. “You were going to stab your heel through her throat.”

She pressed her lips together and glared. “I was speaking metaphorically.”

“And I’m speaking plainly.” His face grew serious. “I’m not interested in Brittany or any other woman like her.” His deep voice rumbled through her body. “I thought I did, but what I really want is to be with a woman who takes risks, embraces life, and lives it on her own terms. Someone who brings joy and light and laughter when she walks into a room.”

Zara gave a begrudging huff. “She sounds not too bad.”

Jay laughed. “Her jealous streak is a huge turn-on. I think it’s her most endearing quality.”

“She also ruined your evening,” Zara pointed out. “Don’t forget that. You seem to only remember the good stuff and not the bad.”

“You got your autograph.” He ran his hand along the name scrawled on her upper arm in black Sharpie.

“Yes, and I also got a selfie with Lin-Manuel Miranda. And I got to tell him how amazing he is. It was awesome.”

“That’s all I wanted,” he said.

She tipped her head back to look at him. “I thought you wanted to impress Thomas and Brittany.”

“I want them to fund my international expansion. If they turn us down because you ran in bare feet to see your favorite musical star, then they aren’t the kind of investors we want handling our project. Now that the lawsuit is gone, we have other options.” He nuzzled her hair. “I just wish you’d waited for me. I wanted to see your face when you met him. I’d been looking forward to it all day.”

“I’m sorry.” Now that she understood him better, she regretted even more her hasty decision to leave. But what was she supposed to do with all his irritatingly attractive qualities? How was she supposed to keep him at arm’s length when he refused to be chased away?