Page 7 of Playing Hard to Get

I’d do it just this once.

Rolling out of bed, I padded over to his door. It was like he knew I’d be coming. His door was open before I could knock. Mitch stood there wearing nothing but his jeans. His fly was open, and from the heated look in his eyes, I took it as an invitation. My lips met his as I reached into his pants and stroked him. One of his hands gripped the back of my neck as his other arm closed around my waist, holding me tight. The deep rumble in his chest set fire between my legs. I pushed him backward and fell onto the bed on top of him.

He wasted no time relieving me of his shirt. His lips scoured my neck and chest as his hands held my hips in place. It was against one of the rules I’d made for myself, but at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to care. His mouth felt too good on my breasts. His hot breath and expert tongue, the war between his lips and teeth. I was aching with need.

Mitch’s lips closed around my nipple and I arched my back, relishing the sweet agony. He suckled my breast, hard, then soft. A nip of his teeth made me gasp and press my aching core against his thigh. He grabbed my other nipple between his lips, but his teeth teased out a moan from my throat. His tongue circled me, lapped against my flesh, took as much of my breast as he could in his mouth before dragging his teeth to my nipple.

Reaching for his jeans, I knelt over him as I tugged at the denim. But Mitch was faster than me. He slid my panties down my legs. In a flash, I was lying on those red satin sheets on my back, Mitch tugging my panties off before slipping out of his pants.

God, he was gorgeous.

His cock was hard and thick, and I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. I grabbed his ass and pulled him toward me, until he was as far in as he’d go.

“Vivian,” he murmured as I slid his length out of my mouth. I ran my tongue over his tip, lapping at his salty pre-cum like it was manna from heaven.

Mitch took my head in his hands as I licked and sucked at the smooth, velvety skin. I took him in again. I let him fuck my mouth, swallowing as he hit the back of my throat, making his knees go weak. He slowed, then pulled away, pushing me gently onto the bed. With hooded eyes, he stared down at me.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Vivian.”

I spread my legs and opened myself to him and smiled at the groan Mitch released from deep within his chest. “Fuck me, Mitch. You know you want to.”

Though it should have been impossible, his eyes grew darker and he licked his lips. He grabbed a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on before he climbed on top of me. His mouth stroked my breasts again, sucking at my sensitive skin. Each lick, each bite, made me moan in pleasure.

Fuck all my rules. I needed this.

Mitch slid his tip between my legs, teasing and taunting me with expectation as he watched me wriggle and beg beneath him. He inched in, slow, slow, filling me to the brim.

“Fuck, Mitch. Please, I need you.”

He pulled out, then slammed deep inside me. It was rough. Hard. Every thrust a punishment. His hand gripped my hip, his fingers digging into my skin. The ripple of his tight muscles under my fingertips and his smooth, perfect skin was the only thing gentle about what we were doing. The slap of our bodies against each other rocked the whole bed, and I worried the structure of the old house wouldn’t hold. His name flew from my lips as I begged him to give it to me. Harder. God, the power of his thrusts was almost enough to put me over the edge. I clenched my muscles around him and screamed out again. Mitch stiffened as he thrust again, and I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist as I milked him for all he was worth.

He slowed but didn’t stop. Pulled out, but pushed back in. Slowly. Achingly gentle. His dark eyes studied mine. I smiled at him and touched his gorgeous face. He leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

“Viv, darlin’, that was amazing,” Mitch said against my skin. I laughed as he fell onto his back, panting. I rolled up on my elbow and looked at his beautiful body.

“You’re amazing.” I ran my fingers along the peaks and valleys of his chest and abs. His body was perfection, not a single scar marred his beautiful form.

“Come here.” Mitch grabbed my nape and pulled me to him. His lips were soft and warm and tasted so good. There was a sweetness about him, in the curve of his hips, the smooth skin of his chest. The delicate caress of his hands, the hard press of his body against mine. The gentle kiss on each of my eyelids as they fluttered, thick with sleep.

Mitch relieved himself of the condom, then pulled my back into his front. Our legs tangled together as he nuzzled my neck.

It was everything I’d ever imagined, all my fantasies come true. He was the forbidden fruit, and now that I’d had a taste, I didn’t know if I could stop.

2

Mitch

A few hours after Vivian’s breathing slowed and I fell asleep with her body pulled tight against me, my sleep was interrupted by the sounds of gunshots and screaming. Piercing pain raked across my back and down my legs, and I jolted awake. My own heavy breathing was the only sound I heard.

A nightmare. The torturous kind that had me choking and shaking like someone was at my throat. I was sure the jolt would have woken her, but Vivian was lying there, peaceful as could be, naked as the day she was born. I climbed out of bed, trembling but careful not to disturb her. Then tugged on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and made my way out of the room. It was too fucking early to be awake, especially after how late we were up the night before. But when the nightmares hit, it was better not to sleep at all.

I padded downstairs to the kitchen and sat at the little table in the corner. With my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees, I yanked on my hair until the pain in my head covered the pain in my soul. Until I could force myself to get up and move, get on with life the way I always did.

It was harder today than most. Images of the dead and dying, of blood-covered bodies, flooded my memory. The screams and cries of the innocent and the guilty played like a soundtrack through my mind.

I’d killed people. Saw things I wished I could unsee. Sure, it was all in the line of duty. But some things never left you. I had nightmares that the souls of the men whose lives I took came back for me. That they rained fire down upon me and dragged me into hell. And those weren’t the worst of them.

Thinking of her was the only thing that worked to clear my head. Vivian was about as far out of my league as a woman could get. She was beyond rich. What she didn't get from her family, she made for herself. Vivian Leonetti, clothing designer extraordinaire. Her label was the next big thing. I didn’t know two shits about fashion, but I did know that. Hell, she spent most of the past year I’d known her traipsing around the world for that label.