Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 by Kelly Jamieson Page A

say those things, and still make her feel like he was being careful and respectful of her.
    When she’d agreed to his one-date offer, she’d told herself it was no big deal. Then when the date turned out not to be the dinner and glass of wine in a plush restaurant she’d expected, but rather a weekend in a luxurious resort in San Diego, she’d had to regroup. She could handle an evening out with Raff. But could she handle a whole weekend?
    She wasn’t sure of the answer, but even so, had found herself agreeing to get on the plane with him and fly across the country, tempted by the experience, but mostly tempted by him. Something about him made her want to just surrender. Their conversation in the limo had lulled her, seduced her even, into feeling that she could trust him. Maybe it was his apparent willingness to take no for an answer—although that hadn’t been tested. His provision of two bedrooms—although she had yet to see that with her own eyes.
    She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe everything he said, so badly, and found herself little by little edging toward that. Yet she kept reminding herself of why she shouldn’t. And in the back of her mind, she kept thinking, Really ? He wants me? Why ?
    Her goal for the date had been to be casual about it, to not be so hung up on his dominance, power and air of danger, to take the outing at face value and just have fun. She wasn’t a teenage virgin; she was a thirty-year-old woman who’d been married. Even though the date had turned into a weekend together, she’d hung on to that plan. But she felt as if her grip on it was slipping. Now that he’d clearly laid out his own plan, she had to dig deep to keep her focus.
    “I appreciate your honesty,” she said, attempting a light tone. “I’m flattered. Good luck with that.”
    His lips twitched and he lifted his chin. “I enjoy a challenge.”
    “I sense that about you.”
    “You sense right. You should also know that I’m very determined.”
    “I got that too,” she said dryly.
    He leaned forward, voice soft. “Sometimes I play dirty when it comes to getting what I want.”
    “All’s fair in love and war?”
    He gave a slow, sexy grin. “Glad you agree.”
    Now her pussy was clenching hard on a wave of lust that rolled through her, imagining Raff playing dirty…in bed. Her breasts swelled, nipples tingling, and when his gaze dropped to her chest, she knew he could totally see her arousal. His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened.
    Then she realized that two could play this game. She could make this difficult for him in a way that was different than just saying no. She could play dirty too.
    She reached for more of the tiramisu, once again letting her pleasure show as she consumed the mouthful of dessert, enjoying the sweet creaminess, the warmth of the rum, the richness of coffee, the dark decadence of the chocolate on top. And she didn’t bother pulling her cardigan over her chest or crossing her arms as she sat back in her seat and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
    He watched her with an amused glint in his eyes, as if he knew what she was doing and was enjoying the hell out of it.
    “Earlier when you did that, I thought how much I want to see you look like that underneath me,” he said softly. Her pussy quivered with delight. “And how much I want to make you moan like that.”
    Oh dear God. He was so right. He was playing dirty. She wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to match him.
    “You know you’re making me hard,” he continued. He sat back in his seat, legs spread a little, inviting her to look. And, holy shitballs, she wanted to.
    Heat slid through her veins. She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping briefly to his crotch, where a definite bulge made her tummy do a little flip. Still trying for casual, she smiled. “Impressive.”
    His lips curved. “Just wait.”
    “And so modest too.”
    He now flashed a grin. “You could be playing with fire, babe.”
    A thrill