Broken Open. Lauren Dane

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      “When I was in first grade, I still couldn’t read and my parents were dealing with the school back and forth. They said I wasn’t very smart and you’ve met my mother so you can imagine how well that went over. Anyway, finally my mom said, can he read something else? Something he picks? They agreed. Probably to get her to shut up and leave, but it works for her brilliantly.”

      Tuesday’s laugh brought him a step closer.

      “Let me guess how that ended. When you got to choose you loved reading. You just didn’t like anyone else making your choices.”

      “It’s a flaw. I admit it.” He looked at her, letting her see what he was thinking. “I like being in control.”

      She blinked a few times.

      “Is this a sex reference? I’m sorry. Is it unsexy to have to ask? I probably shouldn’t have even asked.”

      “Beauty, you have plenty of sexy. That’s not a worry. It’s a general comment that also happens to apply to sex.”

      Watching this normally superconfident woman get a little flustered when it came to this—when he sure as hell felt a little flustered himself—filled him with tenderness he rarely felt for anyone outside his family.

      She shrugged. “I suppose then, we’ll have to go along and see if your need to control and my need to lick you all over are compatible.”

      * * *

      TUESDAY KNEW SHE sounded a lot more confident than she felt. Sex with him? Yes. Yes and yes again. Control, though? What did that mean? Like something creepy? Or something hot? Sometimes people inexplicably found stuff like cell phone tracking and that sort of control to be superhot. She was not one of them.

      She didn’t need a dad. Or a protector. Or a white knight. Or a stalker.

      “That’s some conversation you’re having in your head, given the look on your face.” He fought a smile and she was charmed.

      Ezra was out of her league. This pull between them had the potential to be overwhelming and end horribly.

      But it felt so good she let herself do it anyway.

      She was used to confident men, yes. Smart, too. But Ezra wasn’t just some dude she planned to fuck awhile.

      “I was just weighing what you might mean by control.”

      The gaze he raked over her was nearly physical. One of his brows went up and one corner of his mouth dented with a freaking dimple. A dimple. He was so ridiculously alluring at that moment, tousled, big and hearty.

      Tuesday loved a big man. Some people liked brown eyes; she liked tall men with broad shoulders. The material of his shirt stretched over so much taut skin and work-strong muscle she couldn’t have stopped looking if she’d tried. Which she had no plans to do. If something broke, he’d know how to fix it. If something was heavy, he’d carry it.

      More than being physically big, Ezra was big with his presence, as well. He seemed to radiate with energy and intensity.

      It made her greedy because Ezra Hurley was like chocolate volcano cake. You knew it had the most calories on the menu and that it would be a gooey mess but you ordered it anyway because gooey, messy and high in calories usually meant a good time.

      She was going to gorge herself on this man and she was going to do it without apology or second-guessing because she wanted him. She wanted him and he wanted her and this thing they shared was so hot and compelling and sexy that it made her drunk on his testosterone.

      She groaned. “You have a really big dick, don’t you?”

      He did a double take once he truly heard her question and it was so funny she nearly forgot she’d actually blurted out that thing about his dick.

      See? Drunk. Like an amateur. She wasn’t an amateur, damn it! “Um.” She put her hands over her face, the skin hot against her palms.

      “I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud.”

      He stepped close enough to slide his arms around her waist. Now that she had her heels off, he was much taller and she had to look up a bit but he was smiling.

      “Well, if you’re going to ask such a question at least your assumption that my cock is big is a good way to go about it. But you can just see for yourself. If you’re curious and all.”

      She mirrored the way he held her. Though her hold on his waist was moot once he pulled her closer, arranging her the way he pleased before he turned his attention back to her face.

      And then she sort of got the whole control thing in the way he’d meant it.

      Ezra was in charge and she liked it just fine.

      Ezra touched her like he meant it. The brief bite as his fingertips pressed into her upper arms as he shifted her did all sorts of things to her hormones. Rough, yes. But more because he wanted her so much, he had to have her.

      He wasn’t just there. He was utterly present and focused on her.

      Thrilling. Flattering. Dizzying.

      He bent and she tipped her face up to meet his kiss. He was a master class–level kisser as he gave a long, slow perusal of her mouth. Exploring her, tasting each part as if she were delicious. A lick against her top lip. A lave with the flat of his tongue over the curve of her bottom lip. He tangled his tongue with hers. A quick flick here, a nibble there.

      Ezra Hurley pretty much kissed all the reasons not to fuck him that night right out of her head. Which was fine and all, since really, her reasons had been thin and dumb and he was so warm and hard and pressing that part of him she’d just asked about to her belly.

      Yeah, big.

      When he broke the kiss she licked her lips to get one last bit of his taste. “You haven’t seen my bedroom yet.”

      His smile made her clit throb. Like actual pulsing and she knew she had to take note and relay that info to Natalie because that was the sort of thing you totally told your best friend.

      “I haven’t. You’re a terrible hostess.”

      For a man with such darkness in his eyes, he also had a wonderful sense of humor.

      “I didn’t even offer you any juice or a snack.”

      “I’d rather see you naked.”

      “Well. I approve of your priorities.”

      She took his hand and led him into her bedroom. This was her intimate space. Natalie often had people in her room, but Tuesday was more hesitant. Sure their close friends had been up here, but she’d never actually had a man in her bedroom since she’d lived in that house. Hell, she hadn’t shared her bed with anyone in four years. Not since she’d been married. She supposed she still was married. Wasn’t she? Death wasn’t divorce, right?

      That hit her so hard she actually had to sit down on the edge of her bed.

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