Page 65 of Tempting the Player
“See what I’m doing?” Slipping a hand between her spread thighs, he slid his fingers under the satiny panties. “You like that?”
Heat flared, turning her eyes an emerald shade of green. “Yes,” she gasped.
Brushing over her damp folds, he groaned deep in his throat. She was already wet and ready for him.
For. Him.
“Well, you’re really going to like this.” He eased a finger in her, and it didn’t take much.
Bridget’s hips immediately rolled into the rhythm, her ass pressing back against his cock over and over, and if he wasn’t careful, it was going to be a very awkward walk out of the boutique.
When he felt her muscles starting to tremble, he let go of her wrists and placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her cries. She surprised him, though, when she sucked one of his fingers into her mouth as she came. He felt that all the way to the tip of his dick.
Letting her go when he was sure she wouldn’t collapse, he put distance between them. Perhaps this wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. The smell of her clung to him, he could still feel her pushing back against him, and now he wanted nothing more than to just take her to the floor. Against the mirror. Fuck, anywhere.
Bridget stared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, breathing raggedly. “What about you?”
His lips twisted into a smirk. “That’ll just complicate things.”
“Chad—”
He stopped at the door. “Does the dress fit?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good. We’re getting it.” He opened the door and pinned her with one last look. Man, if he stared at her any longer, he was going to have her on her knees or on her back. “And don’t argue with me about it.”
Bridget looked so damn sexy standing there, naked with the exception of her panties and her chin jutting out stubbornly.
Yeah, he needed to get the fuck out of the dressing room now.
Chad dipped out, closing the door behind him. Too bad getting her out of his head wasn’t as easy as shutting a door.
Chapter Seventeen
Bridget barely recognized herself in the green dress. The deep hue brought out the matching color in her eyes and flattered her pale complexion and red hair. The material was heavy, concealing any kind of unsightly bulges but didn’t feel like she was wearing a curtain.
“You look beautiful,” Shell said, putting the finishing touch in Bridget’s updo—a silvery clip that held her curls up. “The dress is fantastic.”
The dress was fantastic. “I can’t believe he bought this. Such a wa—”
“If you say waste of money, I will disown you.” Shell turned her around and stared at her hard. “It’s wonderful that he would do something like this—romantic. You’re going to have a wonderful time hanging out with the players and glamorous people.”
Bridget swallowed, but her throat was dry. Butterflies were bouncing around her stomach like they were trying to find a way out. She’d met Tony and some of the other guys, but the idea of hobnobbing with all of them made her want to hurl.
“Chad’s picking you up from my place?” Shell asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s actually closer to his and made sense, since you were doing my hair.”
Shell grinned at her. “Gawd girl, you are so damn lucky. I hope you realize that. Chad is a hell of a catch. I’m jealous.”
An ache pierced her chest, and she turned back to the mirror, blinking rapidly and hoping she didn’t ruin her mascara. This whole thing was almost over. Three days from Christmas and tomorrow was the last day of work for her before the holiday break. Then there was New Year’s and the Gala.
Chad probably wouldn’t even be around for the Smithsonian event.
According to Miss Gore, the Nationals were thrilled with Chad’s improvement. There was no more talk about canceling the contract, and the publicist fully believed that after tonight, his image would be repaired. And what had that evil woman said the last time she’d seen her?
“Chad will probably get the public’s sympathy when you guys split,” Miss Gore had said. “So this will work out wonderfully.”
