Page 67

“When this ends is down to you, Kendra. Just give me the word. But until then, I’m here and next to you.” My throat thickens with every word as it leaves my mouth.

I always knew what this was. I knew she wanted to have fun after Tyler. But I wasn’t prepared for the way I’d fall under her spell.

I’m playing roulette with my feelings, and there’s a chance I’ll lose. But I was in deep before, and now that she’s been in my bed, I’m all the way over and jumping in with two feet.

Sitting up, Kendra reaches down and picks up her gift and card, a cheeky smile on her face. “This looks like two things.”

She tears at the wrapping paper, pausing at the latest AirPods and then at the copy of Chelsea Rayne’s recent book called:A Workout and Nutritional Guide.

Her eyes grow wide as she flicks to the title page. “T-this is … signed?”

I nod and kiss her neck. “You had her on the TV that time. Figured you like her.”

Disbelief paints her features as she flicks through a few more pages. “She’s my favorite. So good. And the AirPods? You really didn’t have to. These are so expensive.”

Her attention falls to the unopened card, and she pulls open the envelope.

“Bahahaha!” Laughter erupts from her as she takes in the bald eagle on the front. “Oh my God!”

Watching her like this—in fits of giggles and so fucking happy—I find myself staring and push my head back into the rest, wanting a better view.

She’s still giggling when I pick up the gift and set it on the passenger seat. Next, I take the card from her hand and place it on top.

“I’ll assume this is more about being American than it is how you see me.” My girl points to the card, her smile as wide as a fucking ocean.

“You want to know how I see you, Kendra?”

Her laughter fades, and her eyes fall to my mouth. “How?”

“Something like this.”

I brush my lips over hers, and the first stroke of my tongue leaves her a writhing mess. Her whimpers only drive me further, hardening my cock with every passing second.

There’s nothing fake about this kiss, about the beat of my heart as it thumps against my rib cage. And neither can she fake the flush as it creeps down her chest and travels past the neckline of her sweater.

The heat between her legs intensifies, and she breaks away, her lips swollen from the effects of mine. “I’m having a lot of fun, Jack. You make me happy.”

Since I’m addicted to her mouth, I kiss her again. “Me too. I’m even starting to like New York.”

A chuckle bubbles out of her. “I have a confession.”

I quirk a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

Playing with the buttons on my shirt, she undoes the first two and sets a kiss on my chest.

This girl. This fucking girl.

“I like clotted cream.”

I know I look smug; I knew she liked it. Everyone fucking likes it.

“Don’t worry, Kitten. Your American secret is safe with me.”

“But”—she holds a finger in the air—“I still play soccer.”

“Bloody hell …” I brush some hair from her face. “And here I was, thinking you’d learned the error in your ways.”

She tips my chin and licks into my mouth, fire turning her brown eyes amber. “I’m not making any mistakes, not right now anyway.”