Page 21 of The Devil's Playground

Oh. I guess I am.

Jessie looks between me and Royce, a small smile tugging on her bright red lips. “Okay. Sure thing. Just let me know when your break’s over, okay, Nic?”

Royce takes my hand in his. “Don’t worry. She will.”

It’s like the other night all over again. Instead of his hand on my back, guiding me where he wants me to go, he cuts through the crowd, leading me out of the hustle and the bustle of the club. It takes me a second to recognize that he’s leading me out of the customer section, near the back, but when he stops in front of a closed door, my forehead wrinkles.

“The supply room?”

It’s more like a closet really. About the size of my bathroom in my mother’s house, it has shelving surrounding the four walls. It’s where we keep napkins, glasses, condiments… everything for the actual restaurant part of the Playground.

“It’s as private as we’re going to get here. I could bring you to my office, but that’s a five minute walk. This is faster.”

Faster? For what? And… “Private? What do we need privacy for?”

“This.”

Before I know what’s going on, Royce has shuffled me into the closet, pulling the door closed behind him. The automatic light comes out, a dim orange that highlights the look of hunger on Royce’s face before he drops one hand to my ass, holding me in place as he lowers his mouth to mine.

It takes me a split second to understand that he’s kissing me. The tongue forcing its way into my mouth as he strokes it, teases it, caresses it is one hell of a clue, as well as the muffle groan he lets out against my lips as he tilts my head back, kissing me deeper.

In that aftermath of that split second, I have to make a decision: do I want to shove my boss away, or do I want to let him kiss me?

I think we all know the answer to that.

Going up on my tiptoes in case this is the only chance I ever get to kiss Royce McIntyre, I give back as good as I get, only realized what just happened when we break for air.

If he didn’t have his hand on my ass, I wouldn’t stumbled all the way back against the rack of glasses behind me. That’s how shocked I am.

Lifting my hand to my mouth, I demand, “What was that?”

“A kiss,” Royce answers, panting softly as his eyes twinkle in the dim light. “And I’m going to give you another one.”

Yes.

No.

“Wait.”

He pauses, lips inches away from mine. “Yes?”

“That kiss… that wasn’t like the one you gave me the other night.”

“Oh, I know. And if I wasn’t sure I’d send you running in the opposite direction, I would’ve.” He lowers his head again.

I stop him with my hand against his chest.

“Yes?” he says, a hint of impatience to his tone. He stopped, because I wanted him to, not because he did.

I didn’t want him to, though. I need him to.

I need to understand.

“I don’t get it. If you wanted to kiss me, why did you…”

I can’t even say it. The rejection I felt when he left me behind at my place still stings more than I want to admit.

“I know, baby. So let me make this perfectly clear. I didn’t just want to kiss you. I wanted to touch you. To make you come, and to fuck you so throughly, you forgot that you promised yourself to another man.”

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