“Jasmine wouldn’t…she wouldn’t allow that.”
“I think you’d be surprised at the things she allows because she chose to be with Dean,” he said pointedly. “Now, are you going to play the game? I’m sure I just made you more angry, so let’s see those punches.”
I scowled and threw three punches in succession. Three that were terrible, and I had to shake my hand out at the way each hit landed on my pinky. Briggs stood back and smirked knowingly at the length of my body.
“The jeans. But let me do it.”
“I can—” I started to protest, but he was already standing in front of me, working on undoing the button, then the zipper.
He got down on his knees, making me blush furiously. “Lift your feet, baby.” I did without snapping back at him and watched with fascination as he repeated the movement with the other leg, carefully rolling the jeans down and removing them. “These will go last.” He kissed the front of my black thong, making me squirm as I stood before him.
“What if I win first?” I asked in a whisper as he looked up at me.
His head cocked. “Then I’ll kneel before you naked and take whatever you give me.”
I felt weak in the knees, sure they would give way at any moment. “And what if I give nothing?”
“Do you want to give me nothing, Rose?” He started kissing his way slowly up my body like he was memorizing every inch of exposed skin, taking his time around the burn mark over my ribs, treating the skin like it was a fresh scar that needed to be healed.
I stared back at him, a simmering flush crawling down my neck and chest. “No,” I answered truthfully.
He planted his last kiss on my forehead like I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, then stepped back and got into position with the pillow. “Be a good girl, and show me what you’ve learned today.”
He eyed my stance and watched curiously as I found the correct footing, angling my hips to the side and holding my dominant arm back just like he showed me. He nodded his approval, and with the next three punches, I didn’t hesitate to eye his jeans, hoping he’d gone commando and this game could just end already. I had to holdback from pouting as his black boxer briefs were revealed, the outline of his hard length making my mouth water.
Which he noticed.
“Finish the game,” he ordered gently. “Focus.”
I readied my hands, the distraction of his nearly-naked body doing nothing to keep my hands on track to hit the pillow correctly. He was in front of me before I knew it, reaching his arms behind me and undoing the clasp of my bra with one hand. He stepped back and watched as I let the straps fall off my shoulders. His pupils flared, and my nipples peaked under his scrutiny.
“You’re so flawless, baby,” he finally let out. “I never believed in a god until I saw you naked in the shower. It’s no wonder you appreciate the arts so much—someone spent their good-fucking time sculpting every curve of your body. But no sculpture could ever replicate what I see before me now.”
“Briggs, continue, please. The game,” I breathed out, the words barely forming in my mind, much less reaching my tongue.
He finally nodded and retrieved his pillow, his gaze never leaving my body. I wasn’t sure how my next round of punches went, and I was certain he didn’t know either because he just dropped the pillow when I was done and removed his briefs without saying a word. The tip of his cock bobbed right beneath his navel, the slight curve reminding me of the way his fingers felt inside me, hitting that spot that drove me wild. I was willing to bet he could do the same thing without his fingers being involved. I bit down on my lip, wondering what that would feel like. To be connected to him like that.
“Rose, the pillow. Throw.” Neither of us was focused on the pillow anymore, and instead of following his orders, I dropped my hands and walked right up to him. The pillow hit the floor as my last step closed the distance between us.
“I don’t want to play anymore, Briggs.” I started searching for the end of the wrap he made around my hands, getting flustered when I couldn’t focus enough to find it.
“Here,” he whispered, taking my hands in his. He slowly removed the wraps, rubbing his thumb along my palm the moment a hand was freed, then doing the same with the other. There was a softness in his eyes that held an unspoken question—are you sure you want this? Want me?
Alarm bells rang in my head when August attempted to get this close to me while I was fully clothed, but nothing sounded in my head when I looked at Briggs. Everything I felt was between my chest and thighs. My body ached to know him, to be with him like I’d never been before with anyone else.
I stared down at our hands, my fingers moving to trace the line of where I’d stitched him up. Moving up along his corded forearms, I traced the intricate lines of his tattoos, pausing on a few of the white marks that had been left from injuries I could only imagine, done by someone who was supposed to love him. I trailed over the vines with sharp thorns that moved between each tattoo, threading through each one up to his shoulder and down the front of his chest. There was a tattoo I’d never seen before, right over his heart—the only one with color. I hadn’t noticed it before. Between the pillow and myattention falling to other parts of his miraculous, flawless body, I hadn’t seen the new piece he wasn’t shying from showing me.
My brows pinched together, my other hand coming up to touch the petals as he stared down at me. “Is this…” I paused, unable to ask the question he probably knew was coming. I wanted to ask about the vines the first time I saw them at the diner, but with the new tattoo…it seemed to have a different meaning entirely.
“A rose?” he asked, just as breathless as I was. “Yes.”
“I-is it…for me?” My heart stopped beating because he didn’t answer right away. Briggs’ knuckles grazed along my jaw, drawing my gaze back up to him. My eyelids fluttered as I leaned into his hand.
“Rose baby,everythingis for you.”
I giggled weakly. “Even that you couldn’t answer with a simpleyesorno?”
“Nothing will ever be simple with you, and I’m apologizing for that now, in advance.” He picked me up, his fingers spreading along my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me deeply as he made slow, steady steps—I wasn’t sure where to, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that my heart beat harder than any drum in existence while every inch of me wanted whatever he had planned for us. I wasn’t sure how to react to the tattoo on his chest, but as I pressed my palm to it, he shuddered. As he continued walking, his erection pressed against me, making me all the more blind to what we were doing until my back met a cold, hard surface.