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The Love Wager (Mr. Wrong Number, #2)(82)

Author:Lynn Painter

Holy shit.

She was ending things.

It was over before it’d ever started.

Hallie

She was dying inside and wanted so badly to crawl into her bed and cry her eyes out. But not before having one last night with him as more than friends.

“I totally get it if you want to go home and get back to normal. There are probably girls in the dating queue right now, waiting for your response.” She tried to surround it in a sarcastic laugh, but none came out. “I personally will not be getting back on the app until tomorrow, because I’m far too tired.”

“Hal.” His blue eyes were stormy. “What the hell are—”

“But if you’re interested, I’m game for one last night of pretend. One last night of Hallie and Jack, the couple at the wedding, having mind-blowing sex.”

It sounded desperate to her ears, but she was when it came to Jack. She was desperate for one final night.

His jaw flexed, and he looked pissed as his eyes traveled all over her face. It took a long moment before he said, “Let me get this straight. That whole fake dating game is over and we’re back to being friends, but you want to fuck one last time?”

“Forget it,” she said, mortified by the insulting way he’d said it. “I didn’t—”

“I’m in,” he growled, and then his lips were on hers.

It was angry and hot, his mouth opening hers and kissing her with a wild aggression. His hands came up to hold her face so he could absolutely go feral with his teeth and tongue, and she grabbed his biceps because she felt like she needed something to hold on to.

He made a sound in the back of his throat before sucking her tongue, before treating her mouth like it was a juicy, ripe peach that he wanted to eat whole.

Just like that, she was in his arms and he was carrying her into the bedroom as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His eyes were dark as he dropped her onto the bed and crawled up her body, his mouth only leaving hers long enough to remove clothing.

Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, and then everything changed.

His expression stayed just as serious, just as hyper-focused and intense, but his body gentled. His touches softened. His mouth grew worshipful instead of ravenous.

It broke her heart, because it was too much.

And when he finally slid deep inside her, she had to close her eyes to hold back the tears. It was so good, like it always was with Jack, and she tried to just lose herself in the physicality of it all.

Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.

“Open your eyes,” he said, his voice gruff. “Please?”

She did, and his throat moved as he swallowed and looked down at her. She saw the flare of his nostrils, the flex of his jaw, and as their eyes locked, they exchanged powerful unspoken words. Goodbye. One last time. She reared up to kiss him, needing his mouth on hers. She locked her hands around his neck and sealed her mouth on his as he made her dizzy with the way he moved in her body.

Then they reached the point of no return, where emotions ceased to matter as raw lust took over, and when she shifted her weight to flip them, so she was on top, he cursed like a sailor.

His fingers held her hips, digging into her skin as he watched her move, but when he sat straight up and kissed her, taking her face in his hands, she was done.

She moaned into his mouth as every muscle in her body clenched and flexed, and a second later he was biting her lower lip and groaning into hers.

Jack

He turned and moved, sliding them on the sheets so they were lying side by side. Hallie’s eyes were closed, her breathing labored as they both came back to themselves. He felt emotional as he looked at the freckles on her nose, the bow of her lip, and like a pathetic fool, he touched the curve of her cheek and said, “Are you sure you want to be done with this, Hal?”

Her eyes opened, and he hated the way they looked. Hurt, distant—he couldn’t put his finger on what he saw, but it wasn’t good. She blinked fast before she said in a pinched voice, “Absolutely.”

He gave a nod and sat up, getting out of bed and grabbing his pants from the floor. There was a roaring in his ears, and even though he knew he didn’t want to know, he heard himself ask, “Is this because of Alex?”

He shoved a foot into one of the pant legs, unable to say the guy’s name without gritting his teeth. Because honestly, he was so fucking jealous it was almost painful.

“Um, I guess you could say that,” she said, her tone flat, and her response ripped his heart out of his chest.

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