Page 19 of Playing for Love

“A diamond.”

“I think you’re right.”

I didn’t like the direction of this conversation. A dead end, as if I were having the discussion with Denise.

“How did we end up talking about me and Denise? I thought that was a taboo subject between us?”

“You’re right. We should be punished for breaking that rule.”

The instant she said it, my mind went exactly where it had no business going, in a perverted direction about what kind of punishment I wanted to give Mia. I was bad. I had to get myself under control. I had more important things to do with my energy than waste it on the untenable situation Denise had created.

Hell, I was better than this. I could deal with Denise and my neglected cock. And Mia with her strange hold over me. I wish she had a hold of my cock. Damn me. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I figured it was time to end the call. It was late.

“Gabe? I was joking.”

I chuckled halfheartedly. “I know. But when I see you next, I plan to take you over my knee.”

“Promises, promises.”

We were now officially flirting when I should be ending the call. “Good night.”

There was a pause. “Good night, Gabe.”

I disconnected, wishing it didn’t feel so much like a goodbye. A final goodbye. I’d passed her off to Tate, so my work was done, obligation met. I didn’t have to ever see Mia again.

But hell, Denise and flirtations aside, that didn’t feel right. Mia was a friend and abandoning her after a couple of dinners and one introduction didn’t feel good.

But having wet dreams about her didn’t feel right either. I leaned back on my pillow and swore at my fate. It was close to midnight. Not too late to call Denise for a late-night, long-distance booty call. But my heart wasn’t in it even if my dick was. I turned on the television to the NFL network and settled in to watch a rerun of an old Super Bowl game. The one the Militia played in before I got there, when Trent Lockheed had been QB.

If I hadn’t seen it a dozen times before, it would have kept me awake, but I knew I’d be asleep by halftime and I was.

* * *

Wakingup at five a.m. wasn’t easy. I reached for my phone to turn off the alarm and realized it was the ringer. Some brave a-hole was calling me at this hour. I picked up the phone and was surprised to see who it was.

“Denise.” I breathed into the phone, a mix of annoyance and hope for sex making me fully alert.

“Did I wake you?”

“Sure, but you know I never mind it when you wake me.”

She laughed. “Sorry, but it’s not going to be that kind of call, sweetheart. Though I do have good news. I’m coming to Boston for next weekend’s season opener after all. I spoke with Mia last night and, well, she told me how sweet you’ve been. So—”

“So a conjugal visit is my reward for good behavior?” I wasn’t sure if I was joking or not, or pleased or not. She’d called Mia last night and didn’t call me. Hell, I’d called Mia last night and not her. That said something about our relationship. Something very sad.

“Conjugal? Funny, that’s what Mia called it. I’m excited to see you, Gabe. I’ll send you the details of when my flight gets in on Friday so you can pick me up at the airport.”

“It’ll be good to see you, babe.” It was true, though I hated picking her up at the airport and she knew it. Too many people. Too much hoopla when they recognized me. But she was making the effort to get here so it was the least I could do. “How long are you staying?”

“More good news. I’m staying until Tuesday.”

“Four nights? You may put me in the hospital if you’re not careful,” I said. “I’m out of fucking shape.”

“Not you. That’ll never happen,” she said.

I didn’t remind her how long it had been. Almost three weeks and it was getting damn painful. But I wanted to keep our conversation positive.

“We’ll go out with Mia and Tate on Friday night and then have dinner with your family on Sunday—I miss your family too.” That warmed me.