Page 74 of Sinner’s Game

I look away, purportedly to continue working on the burgers. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

I turn to look at him. “Once it’s over, whatever this is between us will be over, too. You’ve made that pretty darn clear.”

“Brandy...”

“I don’t want it to be,” I blurt. “I like the way I am with you. I’m bolder. I’m more daring.” I put down the spatula and slide my arms around his neck. Then, without analyzing what I’m doing, I rise up on my toes and kiss him. And the glory of it is, he kisses me back. It’s long and lingering, and it’s the kind of kiss that could lead somewhere. And I really, really want it to.

“Brandy,” he says, breathing hard as he pulls back.

I shake my head, then twist around to turn off the grill. “Quiet. No arguments. I know the score. I know you don’t want a relationship. I don’t have any illusions about that. But right now, this is what I want. Please, Ronan. Please let me have what I want.”

“Brandy, we can’t,” he says, but even as he speaks, his hands are stroking my back.

“We can,” I say. “You do sex with no strings all the time. Isn’t that what you’ve told me? This time, I want you to do it with me.” I bite my lower lip, gathering courage as I slide my hand down to cup him. He’s wearing jeans, and I can feel his cock straining against the denim, hard and huge.

He groans, and it’s like the sound flips a switch inside me. I feel an electric tingle coursing through my body, then culminating in a wild heat between my thighs. My fingers fumble at the button of his jeans, then tug down his zipper. I’m breathing hard as I tilt my head back. “If you want me to stop, I will. But you have to say so now.”

For a second, I’m afraid he’ll say exactly that. Then his hands go to my waist, sliding down the back of the sweatpants I pulled on. I’m not wearing underwear, and I moan when his hand slips between my legs, his fingertips finding me already wet. This isn’t something I ever thought I could do—sex even though I know it won’t go anywhere because he doesn’t want it to—but with Ronan, I don’t care. It’s safe with him. I know he won’t hurt me. I can be with him, and I can feel. And any hurt that comes at the end is because I want something I can’t have, but there are no illusions. No fake promises. No surprises.

These moments are just for us, and there’s a freedom in that.

I want more, yes. But right now, I’m willing to take whatever he can give. Or, I think, as I see the heat in his eyes, I’m willing to give whatever he wants to take.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Off,” he demanded, tugging down her sweatpants. He wanted to see her. Wanted to feel her. His thoughts were a frenzy of lust and need, and right then, Ronan felt as though he couldn’t survive the night if his cock wasn’t buried deep inside this woman. Brandy. A woman whose heart he admired, whose laughter thrilled him, whose body enticed him. He wanted to make love to her, slow and easy. And he wanted to pin her down and fuck her hard until she screamed his name.

Everything. With Brandy, dammit, he wanted everything.

To his delight, she followed his orders, tugging off her sweatpants and standing before him in only her thin, white tee. She was so lovely, her skin glowing in the light from the kitchen’s single bulb.

“Now, angel,” he said, but she shook her head, her teeth grating her lower lip in a way that only made him harder. She glanced down, her eyes going to his cock, and he realized that he was stroking himself, his hand inside his briefs. She met his eyes, then slid her own hand between her legs, mimicking his motions as she played with her pussy.

“Christ, angel, you’re going to drive me insane.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” she said, taking the hem of her tee and pulling it over her head, leaving her completely naked in front of him. He slowed the way he was palming himself, certain that he was going to push himself over, and he didn’t want to explode until his cock was buried deep inside her.

“Now, angel,” he said, and she took a step toward him.

“Giving orders?”

“I am,” he said, not sure what game they were playing but liking it. She knew his rules. His parameters. She knew he didn’t do relationships. But dear God, he didn’t want to lose her. If they could share a bed—if they could play these games—then at least she could stay in his life.

With a slow grin, he freed his cock, then sat in one of the kitchen chairs. "Come here, angel."

She obeyed, then put her hands on his shoulders before leaning in, whispering so that her breath tickled his ear. “Tell me what to do.”

“I want a lap dance, angel. I want to see you ride my cock.”

Her tongue stoked the curve of his ear, and he reached out, his hands cupping her ass as she whispered, “I like this. I like being a bad girl. But only for you, Ronan,” she added, her hands tightening on his shoulders as she straddled him, then slowly lowered herself until her soaked pussy teased the head of his cock.

“And I really, really, really like fucking you,” she added at the same time that she lowered her body, impaling herself on him in one bold stroke.

His hands were still on the mounds of her ass, and he helped her ride him, working their rhythm until she was rising and falling all on her own, her breath coming hard and fast, then her pussy clenching around him as she came, milking him until he exploded inside her and they both gasped, lost in the haze of passion.

She leaned forward, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He held her close, wishing they could stay like that all night, their bodies connected. For a few minutes, he simply held her, enjoying their closeness. Then he shifted her so that he could stand, hushing her soft protests as he lifted her, cradling her body as he carried her to the bed.

He slipped in beside her, and she murmured his name as she snuggled close, drifting off into sleep.