He shrugged. Just looking down at her like this, her face upturned, her long dark hair falling down her naked back, her breasts thrust out and tipped in a golden glow from the television was driving him crazy. “They’re your spoils.”
She wet her lips again and it took all Dex’s willpower not to swoop down and crush his mouth on hers.
“I want to know.”
Dex shook his head. She’d be shocked if she knew the things he wanted to do to her. “Trust me—” he reached his hand out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t.”
She dug the pads of her fingers into his thighs and the sensation streaked straight to his balls, sizzling hot at the base of his spine. “Humour me.”
Dex locked his gaze with hers. He could see fever glint in their depths. The kind of fever that heated his blood and stirred deep in the muscles of his inner thighs.
She wanted to hear the words...
“I want to strip that underwear off you. I want to lay you flat and bury my head between your thighs and stay there until you forget the name of any other man who’s ever gone down on you.”
He trailed his fingers along her jaw not trusting himself in this moment to not follow through on what he’d just described. His thumb rubbed at the full soft crescent of her bottom lip.
“I want to kiss you until we both can’t breathe. I want to push your gorgeous breasts together and thrust my cock between them until I come all over them. I want to look down and see your mouth around my dick.”
Dex sucked in an uneven breath. He was dizzy with the images bombarding his mind, intoxicated by the possibilities, by the things he wanted to do to this woman. With this woman.
“I want to turn you upside down and inside out with wanting me. I want to bend you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. Hell, I want to bend you over every goddamn piece of furniture in this place.”
Dex stopped, the breath thick in the back of his throat, as his mind swirled into an abyss of devolving scenarios. Ropes, paddles, wax encrusted nipples. All that fifty shades of grey shit. He wasn’t into pain—hers or his. But the way she was looking up at him, her pretty wet lips parted and so very near, was fogging his brain with reckless lust.
Harper Nugent might have a little extra junk in her trunk, but her stepbrother calling her out on it is the last straw... When rugby hottie, Dexter Blake, witnesses the insult, he surprises Harper by asking her out. In front of her dumbass brother. Score! Of course, she knows it's not for reals, but Dex won't take no for an answer.
Dexter Blake's life revolves around rugby with one hard and fast rule: no women. Sure, his left hand is getting a workout, but he's focused on his career for now. Then he overhears an asshat reporter belittle the curvy chick he'd been secretly ogling. What's a guy to do but ask her out? It's just a little revenge against a poser, and then he'll get his head back in the game.
But the date is better than either expected. So is the next one. And the next. And the heat between them...sizzles their clothes right off.
Suddenly, this fake relationship is feeling all too real...