Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

One I’ve never felt before.

One I refuse to let go of.

Chapter Seventeen

Posey

I know I don’t have much to compare it to, but sleeping with Boon… Well, it’s absolutely amazing.

There is something about being woken in the middle of the night by earnest kisses and sensual touches. I’ve never experienced that. The all-consuming need to wake someone out of a dead sleep to have them. But I did last night. Boon beat me to it every time; I don’t even know if he slept. When we did sleep, though—since we agreed we were both too hot to cuddle—my knee would have to be right at his back. He’d grab my calf or my thigh, squeezing, almost as if making sure I was there. It was sweet and made me feel all kinds of special. He takes such care with me. His touches are sweet, except when he’s taking me to oblivion. Those touches aren’t soft. They’re rough, just how I want them. I love the feeling of a strong man, and Boon is exactly that.

All man.

All hard.

And all mine.

It intrigues me how he can be so stoic and harsh away from me, but with me, he is kind and loves to talk to me. He laughs so much, and his smile is unstoppable. Just like his hands. He can’t keep them off me. Like, even now, we’re still in bed, but I’m almost in his lap. My thighs are against his as my toes curl along his lower back. I have my plate on his knees, and he’s holding his as we eat the breakfast we made together. I made the waffles, and he made the bacon and eggs. I’ve never cooked with a man, so I’m unsure if this is something only Boon does, but whenever he wasn’t scrambling or frying something, his lips were at my neck.

He makes the butterflies come alive inside me, and no one has ever done that to the level he can achieve. It feels as if the butterflies are moving in my skin, my lungs, my stomach, and definitely my brain. He makes it really hard to think clearly, and I love it. I love not holding back or trying to figure out what to say next. With Maxim, it wasn’t like that. Not only was there a language barrier, but I was trying so hard to hide my feelings that I was scared to say certain things. With Boon, I don’t want to hide any of what I am feeling. I want him to know, and he wants me to know the same thing.

Again, I know I have no real experience in a situation like this, but I think Boon is a different kind of man. A man you don’t find often. One you should sink your claws into and never let go.

It kind of horrifies me.

What is this feeling, and can I handle it? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

“When do you need to leave?”

I lick my lips free of syrup. “In an hour. I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do.”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if I go home in last night’s clothes, I have to explain to my parents. But if I go to work, I’ll have to explain to my colleagues. I’m unsure who I want to answer to.”

“That is a tough choice,” he laughs, and I glare.

“Thank you for laughing at my misery.”

“Ah, I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and then he reaches over, sliding his thumb along my lip. “Syrup,” he explains before licking his thumb.

It’s by far the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Stunned, I fight for my next breath as I say, “What are you doing today?”

“Nothing,” he laughs around a piece of bacon. “I was hoping you wouldn’t leave.”

“Sorry. Gotta work.”

“Totally understand. What are you doing after?”

I look up at him through my lashes. “I don’t know. Did you want to do something together?”

“Yeah,” he says simply. “We can go to a movie or dinner. Or both.”

“I’m down.”

“Cool,” he says as he takes another heaping spoonful of eggs. I made fun of him for having a spoon and fork to eat with, but after watching as he devours his eggs, I feel he may be on to something with the spoon. “Can I admit something?” he asks softly, and our eyes meet.

I press my fork to my bottom lip. “Sure?”

“I love that you eat.”

I grin, unsure what he means. “I shouldn’t be offended, right?”

“Not at all,” he says as he chews. “Seriously, Julia never ate, and I have a tendency to date women who don’t like food. You, though, you love food.”

I nod. “I do. Very much.”

He leans over, kissing my lips. “And I love that you do.”

I snort. “I should probably skip a few meals. I haven’t had time to work out lately, and my ass is looking as if it belongs in the Guinness World Records for biggest booty.”