RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,66

memorized that moment.

That feeling.

I etched it on my heart.

“Why do you feel so good?” she whispered as she started to move. I gripped her hips and guided her pace. “Why? And if you say it’s because you’re Slade Rodriguez—” She clenched her teeth.

I moved my hands to cup her face as she increased her tempo, allowing me deeper inside her.

“Mack, I was going to say . . .” I clamped my jaw and rode out a wave of pleasure that stole my breath. “I feel good because I’m yours.”

Our mouths collided in a crescendo of tongues and teeth. I braced my arms around her, pulling her closer, pumping my hips with each kiss. She met each thrust.

“Right there . . . right . . .” She shook her head like I was making her dizzy. “Deeper!”

Was tame little Mack yelling at me?

I chuckled and pulled almost completely out only to thrust back in deep, so deep I was seeing stars. “Only with you.”

“With me?”

“Only with you has it ever felt like I can’t get enough.” I parted her lips with my tongue and deepened the kiss as her walls clenched around me, pulling me deeper, making me never want to leave her body.

Her nails dug into my shoulder as she held on, her body twisting in mine. I felt her release, felt every ounce of her drain, saw the look on her face when her eyes closed like her expression—her truth was too much for me to see. Her grip released on my shoulder just as another tremor ran through her.

I rested my head between her breasts and held on tight, running my hands down her back, feeling her muscles, her skin, memorizing the way everything seemed to buzz beneath my fingertips.

“I’m just going to stay like this forever,” I whispered.

“I was just going to invite you to,” she purred.

I smiled against her skin, trapped in the protection of her body, and closed my eyes. “Come home with me.”

She didn’t say anything.

I held her tighter. Afraid to let go. “Stay. Please. Stay.”

When I opened my eyes and pulled away from her, she had tears in her eyes. No words were said as she nodded her head slowly and then wrapped her arms around me and whispered, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“To stay at my house?” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“To be asked to stay,” she said on her next breath, like she was afraid to speak it too loud.

Chapter Forty-Two

MACKENZIE

Don’t be the weird girl who cries after sex.

That was the only thing I could think of as we drove in silence back to his house.

I had one more week before my dad expected me back at the main winery. One more week where I could both work and play with Slade.

I swore to myself to take advantage of that.

But first steps first, don’t cry because he said everything that I’ve been wanting another human to say to me for the last few years.

Alton included.

It was too heavy of a thing to tell him, and though I wanted to trust him—needed to—I was still scared.

Petrified, actually.

It wasn’t helping that Jagger’s words haunted me, as if I didn’t know the real Slade.

It gave me a headache thinking about it.

Was this the real Slade?

This sexy combination of the Slade from vacation and the confident albeit cocky celeb?

By the time we pulled up to the house and got out of the car, my nerves were a wreck, I was overthinking everything.

And it wasn’t fair to him.

But he didn’t push me.

He didn’t even ask me what I was thinking about.

And when Alfie barreled toward the front door, I intercepted him so he wouldn’t run into the driveway. “Buddy, you miss us?”

“Of course he does.” Slade lowered himself to the ground. “You miss Mom and Dad, buddy?”

I froze.

Slade froze.

Alfie froze—tongue hanging out.

Slade cleared his throat. “You know what . . . I meant . . . in . . . joking. It was . . . a joke.”

“It was funny?” I offered, scrunching up my nose.

He actually looked like he was blushing as he stared down at Alfie, as though the dog was the reason for his slipup, and then back over at me. “So, I’ll just get the guest bedroom ready for you?”

I frowned. “Wait, what?”

He grinned. “See, that was funny, that reaction right there. You have this very Botox-free line that appears when you get pissed, divides your face right in half, sexy as hell.”

I narrowed my eyes.

He whistled. “And paired with

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