Noah Whitlock

Taunting him was a game I had become all too good at playing.

Not that either of us ever won.

He’s the one that got away ten years ago.

Now, he’s the one I am hesitant to let back in.

Things between us were always innocent…until they weren’t.

We play a wicked game of heart-wrenching frustration.

And I couldn’t seem to force myself to walk away from it.

I quickly learned that Noah was an easy man to rile up.

I enjoyed the glint in his eye—the one that bordered on anger and lust.

But he was determined to play for keeps this time, and I was determined to just play.