Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

"I do. Just not with this."

"Would you teach me?"

He chuckles. "Teach you what, sweetness?"

Sweetness. I like it. I shouldn't like it—who the hell does he think he is giving me a pet name—but I do. "Everything."

"Yeah."

I clear my throat. "I mean cooking. I never learned."

"Sure." He slides his hand over my hip. "Tonight?"

I shake my head. Not tonight. Absolutely not tonight.

His smile spreads over his cheeks as he sets the tray on the counter.

I pick up the bowl, tilt it to pour the batter into the tray.

He takes the tray and slides it into the oven.

Sets a timer for forty-five minutes.

His eyes fix on mine. "Not sure that's enough time." He brings his hands to my hips.

He lifts me into his arms like I'm weightless. I'm on the short side, but I'm definitely not weightless.

Walker carries me to the couch and lays me on my back.

I stare up at him as I sink into the leather.

He pushes my dress up my thighs. Places his body between my legs. Leans down to bring his lips to mine.

My hand goes to his hair.

I hold his head against mine.

I kiss him hard.

I want more of him. I want too much of him.

He drags his fingertips up my thigh. "I want you groaning my name when you come."

I nod. Yes. I want that too. I really, really want that.

He leans in.

This kiss is harder. Hungrier. Like he's as needy as I am.

His fingertips brush my inner thigh.

The other.

Higher.

Closer.

Almost.