A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

Advertisement2

"Is this part of the game?" I breath.

"Yes, but it's true."

"That's a dirty play." It overwhelms me, this desire to claim his heart the way I'm claiming his body. To share these other parts of myself and take these other parts of him.

"I told you." He scrapes his teeth over my neck. "I don't play fair."

Fuck. I need to touch him. And I want to surrender to this and feel every ounce of it forever.

He doesn't want a wall with me.

I don't want a wall with him.

We're both a mess. Ready to fall in love the second we know it won't work out.

Or maybe it's something deeper and truer. Maybe he's been the person for me all along.

"I don't play fair either." I shift my hips enough to do away with my panties. Then I settle back between his legs. So I can feel his cock against my ass.

I need that.

And I'll have it.

Soon.

Very fucking soon.

"Are you safe?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"When were you last tested?" This is bad etiquette. I know better. But I don't care. I want it too badly to care. "I got tested at my yearly last month. I haven't been with anyone else since. If you're safe, we don't need to use a condom. I'm on birth control."

"Fuck." His entire body tightens. "And I thought I played dirty." He draws circles over my nipples. "It's been a while. And I was only with my ex before that. But I should retest first. Just in case."

My body whines. It wants to feel all of him against all of me. But that's smart. That's why people don't have this conversation with their clothes off. Because we're not good at being smart.

But I don't care.

I don't want to be smart right now.

"Can you do it tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes." He pulls my top over my head. "I didn't answer your question."

"I had a question?"

He scrapes his teeth over my neck again. Softly. Then, hard enough, I feel it. He answers my question as if he's not torturing me exquisitely. What has he done in the name of relationships? "It depends how you define strange. It's not unusual for a woman to tie a man up. But it was strange for me."

My breath catches.

"You like the thought of it?" he asks.

"The role reversal." I nod.

"I did too. Enough to do it every so often," he says. "It's important to play the other role. So you know how the other person feels."

"That's responsible." Which I love. Really. But I don't want to talk about responsibility right now. I want to be dirty. "What was actually strange?"

"I wore a furry costume once."

"No."

"Yes." His laugh cuts the sexual tension in the air.

It's enough that I gather my wits. I need to strategize. To figure out how I can drive him out of his mind.

"In college, I spent three months saying yes to everything. It was an exercise. I hated it, but it was good for me. It forced me out of my comfort zone."

"What else did you try?"

"I watched a woman with another man. And she wanted me with another woman."

"Would you do it again?" I ask.

"Not with you." He slips one hand under my skirt and cups my thigh. So, so close to where he needs to be but not quite there. "I like you too much to share."

"What if it got me off?"

"Does it?" he asks.

"No," I admit. "But what if it did?"

"Maybe." He strokes my thigh with his thumb. "It depends exactly what you want. How you want it. Where."

"If I want you to bring someone else in, someone you can use, to order me around with him."

"That sounds fucking hot." His hand moves higher. Higher. Higher. "But still, no. I couldn't share you."

The possessive tone to his voice makes my sex clench. I've never wanted that before. To be someone's.

But there's something about the way Jackson says it. Like he would share if he liked me a little less.

Like he can't imagine a world where he likes me less.

I'm losing this game.

And I'm losing interest in winning.

"What did you like the best?" I take one more shot at maintaining the upper hand. "Of the things you tried?"

"Role play," he says. "I started using it more. Doing scenes."

"We could do that."

"We will." He presses his lips to my neck. "But not today." He strokes my thigh with his thumb again and again.

I lean forward enough to undo the zipper of my skirt. Then I shift off the lounge chair onto my feet, and I do away with the skirt.

I'm standing naked in front of him. Like so many of my fantasies.

And he's there, stretched over the lounge chair, his erection threatening to tear a hole in his nylon swimsuit, still poised and confident.

He's going to win.

That's okay.

But I'm going down swinging.

I slide back onto the chair so I'm straddling him, and I bring my lips to his lips.


Advertisement3

Advertisement4