Will runs his hot, wet tongue across my bottom lip. “Do you want more of me, Drew?”
Since words have failed me, I nod and whimper, opening my mouth in response to his question.
He takes what he wants and palms the back of my head, driving the kiss deeper, until the lines of professionalism aren’t all that’s blurred. He’s consuming me, until I’m not sure where our bodies begin and end, and with every stroke of his tongue, I’m happy to be the victim in the game of cat and mouse we’ve been playing since the day he helped me with my grocery bags.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When Colton assigned Will as my client, I anticipated the unexpected, but I always felt like I knew the man standing in front of me, who’s now pulling another strangled whimper from my throat.
In reality, I’m not sure I know Will Jones that well at all. At least not this part of him—the side that is soft and gentle.
Floating his fingertips across the waistband of my sleep shorts, he blends dominance with the right amount of respect, and when his hand dips an inch below my shorts and pauses, my voice is raspy when I say, “I thought you didn’t seek permission, but rather forgiveness.”
Will groans into the side of my neck, and when he pulls me into his body again, I feel how hard he is. It’s unmistakable.
I freak out, lurching back to put distance between us. “I—I can’t,” I force out, missing his hands all over me.
I’m cold without his touch and frustrated at myself for craving it at the same time. It’s like he can read my thoughts when he closes the gap I just created, although he doesn’t place his hands back on my body.
“I need you to be specific, Drew. Are you saying you can’t do this with me or that you don’t want to?”
And that’s the million-dollar question. The one that will keep me awake tonight in bed because I have to climb in there alone.
“I don’t want to do this.” The lie falls from my tongue far easier than I thought it would.
Will studies me for a beat, those dark brown eyes figuring me out like a mathematical equation. Maybe that’s all I am—a challenge to keep him occupied this season because he sure as shit has the Rogues fans eating out of his palm. Right now, he can do no wrong in the public eye, and suddenly, I’m hit with another pang of fear.
If any of this between us got out, then it would be my career on the line and not his. I’d be branded the unprofessional publicist who took advantage of her position and bagged the hottest rookie. No one would see—or want to understand—that we both played a part. Ultimately, it would be me who paid the price, throwing away everything I’d worked for.
All because I had fallen into the same trap that had caught so many women before me.
The red flags are all here, waving around in the high breeze that usually precedes a full-blown storm.
I’d be a fool to ignore their warning.
I’m nothing but a conquest and another notch on Will’s bedpost—and likely one he’d go on to regret when everything went up in smoke.
“You’re a bad liar.” Will cocks his head to one side, waiting for me to confirm the truth in his statement.
He needs to leave, but I won’t be the one to ask him. Resisting a night together is hard enough.
When I don’t speak, he takes my hand back in his and walks me the few steps to the couch. I take a seat and stare up at him as he sets the duvet over my lap and picks up his shirt, pulling it back over his head.
“Where are you going?”
Will scrubs a hand over his mouth, and I know it’s to disguise his smugness. I sound about as needy as I feel right now.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He tips his head at my kitchen area. “Are you hungry?”
Starving. But I just took a six-foot-four hockey player off the menu, so my options are limited to the pink toy sitting in my nightstand. The same one I used last night while thinking about him.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
Still standing, Will leans over my body, his hands braced on either side of my head. Sexy confidence oozes from him. The gold pendant he’s wearing dangles from his neck, and on closer inspection, I see it’s a compass.
“How about a hot chocolate loaded with everything?”
“No,” I reply, wondering how I could justify our mouths accidentally finding each other again. “I already had one tonight, and I’ve been comfort eating all day. If I keep going, then I won’t get in the suit I picked out for New York.”
Will’s eyes lower down my body, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. “Your body will always be perfect, and it’s not how you’ll fit in your suit that concerns me …”
