I get his carefree smile.
I get his inked arms.
I get his massive ahem.
It’s the perfect arrangement. The cocky playboy makes me c*me. I hold onto my secrets.
No getting lost in his dark eyes. No melting into his soft embrace. No falling head over heels.
We’re playing. That’s it.
I need to think about his lips on my neck, his hands on my skin, his hard body against mine.
If he unlocks my heart if he finds out the truth…
There’s no way he’s staying.
*A standalone romance set within the world of Inked Hearts*
She drops her cup on the table. Looks me in the eyes. Raises her brows. “Something you want to say?”
“You moan like that again and I’m gonna be late for my one o’clock.”
Her teeth sink into her lip. “Here?”
I nod to the bathroom in the back corner.
“Really? A bathroom?”
“You’ve never wanted it that badly?”
“Well…” She pulls her arm—the now tattooed one—over her chest. Wraps her fingers around her other arm. “For a guy who doesn’t play games, you’re taking your time explaining this.”
I take another sip. “I’ve never done the fuck buddy thing before.”
She cocks her head to one side. “Really?”
“Is it that surprising?”
She holds up her thumb and forefinger in the a little gesture. “Okay. Well. I do like you, Walker. I already know you’re… skilled.”
My smile spreads to my ears. “That’s it?”
“Not that you brag?”
“That was…” She takes a long sip. “It was the best sex I’ve had in a long time. I’d like to do it again.”
“That’s it. We meet up. Do it again.”
“Whatever we want.”
“But is it this—” She motions to the table and the coffee. “Or is it—” She puts her hand in the shape of a phone and brings it to her ear. “Hey, Iris, babe, want to come over? I’ve got an appointment at three, but I can squeeze in a few orgasms. We do our thing, then I go home, and I call you the next time I’m in need of satisfaction?”
“Sounds like dating.”
I shake my head.
“Okay. We can make that a rule. No dates.”
“Rules are good. They help you outline your boundaries.”
I can’t help but smile.
“I sound like a shrink, don’t I?”
“It suits you.”
She sticks her tongue out no thanks. “Fine. We won’t call them rules. We’ll call them—”
“Call it what it is.”
“Okay. It’s a rule.” She stirs her drink with her straw. “No one else.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“And we… we can hang out as friends. But no dates. No roses or moonlit walks on the beach. No romance.”
“I don’t do romance.”
She must believe me because she nods. “We can call it off whenever. No questions asked. No explanation required.”
“Okay. I, um. I’m not sure how you seal this kind of agreement.”
I nod to the bathroom.
She laughs. “Let’s stick with this.” She offers her hand.
Her eyes go to the clock on the wall. “You’re gonna be late.”
“I know.” I pull my cell from my pocket and slide it to her.
She picks it up, punches in her number, sends a text to herself.
Her phone buzzes in her backpack.
She hands my cell back to me.
Walker: Hey, babe, this is Walker, your booty call. I want some of that sugar, but first I need to brag about how great I was the other night.
Her lips curl into a smile. “I think I nailed you.”
She pushes herself to her feet and slings her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, Walker Williams.”
“And I’ll see you soon, Iris—” “Iris Avery.”
Crystal Kaswell writes scorching hot new adult romance. When she isn’t writing, she is chain drinking tea, binge-watching Law and Order, practicing yoga, or debating which fictional character would be the best in bed. She lives in Portland, OR with her husband.
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