Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)

“Because we have to talk about something or I’ll pull this car over and take you on the hood. And the date isn’t technically over until I get you inside the house. So talk.”


“Okay.” I clear my throat. “But can we do the fucking on the hood thing sometime soon?”

He glares at me and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He’s not touching me.

“Yes. Talk.”

“I was taken away from her when I was twelve.”

“Why?” he asks, deceptively softly.

“Because she sucked as a parent. Drugs. A revolving door of men.”

“Did any of them…?” he can’t finish the sentence.

“No. She made me go in my room and lock the door when the men were around. Mostly she just neglected me. Forgot to buy food, forgot to send me to school. Eventually a teacher took interest and I was taken away.”

“What happened then?”

“I got shuffled around. Ten foster homes in four years.”

“And then you found a family to stay with until you turned eighteen?” he asks.

“No, then I got cut loose. The system couldn’t afford me anymore.”

“You were on your own at sixteen years old?” he asks, shocked and angry.

“I had Leo. He had already come to Seattle to go to school, so I followed him and stayed with him. He made me get a job, finish school, enroll in college. He’s really like a brother to me.”

“How did you meet him?” Will’s voice is softer, but he still doesn’t sound happy.

“The first foster home. He was there too. We had music in common. He taught me to play the guitar, and he had a job, so he got me a cell phone so I could stay in contact with him.”

“I’m glad you had him,” he mutters. “Why do you even still talk to your mother?”

“I send her money every month.” Damn it. I hadn’t meant to say that.

“What?!” Now he’s really, really angry. “Why the fuck do you send her money?”

“Because I feel guilty.” I look down at my hands and feel ashamed. “Because she would probably starve without it.”

“She would have let you starve, Megan.”

“I don’t need the money. She does.” I shrug. “And if I send her money and keep her in Montana, maybe she won’t ever come here to ask me for anything.”

The last part is a whisper. I’ve never told anyone this before. Not ever.

We pull into Will’s drive.

“What’s the code?” he asks me with a smile.

“051877,” I respond and he nods happily, inputs the code and drives us to the house and into the garage.

We climb out of the car and he leads me into the house. The garage enters into a mud room, and then into a gorgeous kitchen. It’s open to a dining space and family living area, with floor-to-ceiling windows covering one whole wall, showing off the Sound.

“I really love this space,” I murmur and walk over to the windows, taking in the view. It’s dark out. Lights twinkle from homes and businesses on the island across the water.

“I really love having you in this space.”

Will’s voice is soft. He’s standing a few feet behind me. I see his reflection in the dark window. His hands are in fists at his sides, and he’s breathing quickly.

His eyes are running up and down my back. I slip the shrug off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The red sundress has spaghetti straps and flows down around my hips to my mid-thigh. His gaze meets mine in the glass and then he closes his eyes tightly and exhales roughly.

“Will?” I ask as I turn around to look at him. God, he’s so gorgeous. He’s wearing a gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He’s in black jeans, and he already took his shoes off, so he’s just in black socks.

His blue eyes are hot on mine.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is this date over?” I ask.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Thank God.”





Chapter Nine


I jump into Will’s arms, wrap my arms around his neck, thrust my fingers into his hair and kiss him like I’m dying. He grips onto my ass as my legs circle his waist and groans.

“Let’s do this right here, on the kitchen counter,” I mumble and kiss his neck. He chuckles and carries me up the stairs toward his room.

“No way. My bed first, kitchen later.”

“Okay,” I agree. I lean back, completely confident that he won’t drop me and unbutton his shirt. He sets me on my feet at the edge of the bed, turns on a sidelight and grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head in one swift move.

I immediately reach for his shirt but he backs out of my grasp.

“Come here, I want you naked.”

“Let me look at you,” he murmurs, bringing me to a stop.

“No, you’ve seen me. Let me see you, babe. Seriously, I’m gonna die if you don’t get naked like thirty seconds ago.”

His eyes burn over my body as he quickly shucks off his jeans and shirt, leaving just his tight, white, short boxer briefs.