Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
He rests his forehead lightly on mine and speaks softly, his words barely a whisper.
“I need you to pretend like you’re desperate to get me home. I have to get out of here, but I don’t want Anson to think there’s anything wrong between us.”
His voice is anything but in control. He sounds almost anguished, his hold on my hips firm.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He exhales through his nose. “It’s nothing. We’re going to pretend we’re leaving together and I’ll call you an Uber. Will you just please do this for me?”
“You’re going to hook up with someone, aren’t you?”
It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I just spent more than four hours at his game, meeting people and pretending to be his adoring girlfriend, and he can’t even sit through dinner with me?
“No.” He closes his eyes and cringes, looking like he’s in pain. “Please, Mara. I covered for you, now I need you to cover for me.”
The pleading in his tone tugs at my heart. “Okay. I’m going to lay on the affection. Give it like fifteen seconds and then act like you’re reluctantly stopping me.”
I don’t even wait for him to answer before I move my fingers up his neck and into his hair, smiling. I press myself against him and barely brush my lips over his.
His body is like a brick wall. I’ve never been with a man so tall or so fit, and for a second, I wish I really was going home with him for a horizontal celebration of his win.
This close, I can smell the faint pine scent of his bodywash and feel the movement of his chest as he breathes faster than I am.
“How’s this for convincing, desperate pervert?” I say lightly against his mouth.
I feel his lips quirking with a smile. “It’s damn good.”
His expression is reluctant as he pulls away and takes my hand.
“That actually helped,” he says, looking surprised.
“Helped what?”
Ignoring my question, he leads me back to the table, where he announces, “We’re passing on dinner, guys. My girl’s hungry for something else and she wants to use every hour we’ve got until the plane takes off for the road trip.”
I want to elbow him so hard, but I just smile and play along. Leo’s teammates are giving him jealous looks—well, all except Anson. He’s glaring at me.
“You’re not even eating?” Suki asks, shocked.
She knows me well.
“I will be,” Leo says, giving me a wicked grin. “As soon as we get in the house.”
My stomach does a full flip, the thought of him tearing off his suit jacket and tie making me warm all over. What if every inch of his chiseled, hard body was committed to my pleasure? And what if I could find out how he likes to be touched, and what makes him lose control?
I tug on his hand, the fantasy sex I’m playing out in my mind the most action I’ve had in a very long time.
“See you in the morning, boys,” he says. Then he looks at me and says, “How lucky am I?”
So this is what it feels like. I’ve never understood how Suki fell so hard and fast for Carter. She let go of her fear and trusted him not to destroy her. And this is why. He looks at her the way Leo is looking at me right now. Like she’s everything to him and no woman could ever measure up to her.
Leo’s faking it, of course. So I don’t know exactly what it feels like, but I can imagine. It makes me wish I hadn’t been so thorough in convincing Leo I hate him.
We walk out to his car, where he opens the passenger-side door for me. “I thought I’d need to call an Uber, but I’ll be okay to take you home.”
I pinch my brows together, confused. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head and says, “Just get in.”
I do, and then he closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side. Once he’s behind the wheel, he takes several long, deep breaths. I fight my curiosity and give him about half a minute of quiet before I speak.
“Did you get bad news?” I ask gently.
He starts the car. “No.”
“Did one of your teammates say something shitty to you?”
“Nothing like that. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
But he’s not fine right now. I can’t just go home knowing something is so wrong that he can’t even get through dinner with his teammates.
“Is it something to do with a woman you’re seeing?”
He sighs heavily. “Mara, stop interrogating me. I just need to go home, that’s it.”
“Is someone waiting for you there?”
“No.”
He’s getting aggravated, but the irony is, we were on opposite sides of this exact argument yesterday.
“Are you being melodramatic?” I ask.
That gets me an almost smile. He seems to think about something for a few seconds before he says, “It’s something I have medication for at home. That’s it. Not a big deal.”