Page 59 of Tempting the Player
“Go ahead.” She waved a hand. “Say something smartass.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said, his gaze dropping to her lips again. “So are we talking no sexual interaction for two years or just no sex?”
She unfolded her legs, causing her knee to brush his. “It’s my turn. Do you regret leaving college for baseball?”
Again, he was a little surprised by how much she knew, but considering how much Maddie liked to talk, he shouldn’t be so shocked. “Yes and no. If I blow out my arm, it would be nice to have a different kind of career to fall back on, but I could always work with one of my brothers.”
“Which one?” she asked.
He tsked and gently nudged her knee with his. “My turn. Are we talking no sexual interaction or no sex?”
Her eyes rolled. “Nothing up until the night I went home with you.”
Oh yeah, he was really liking the sound of that. “And after?”
“Answer my question.” She set her half-finished drink aside.
Chad grinned. “I’d probably do something with Chandler. His job’s a bit unorthodox, but it would at least be interesting.”
Bridget bit down on her lip. “I could see you doing that—the bodyguard thing. And no.”
“What are you saying no to?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Nothing before or after you. Happy?”
Chad’s eyes met hers. “Yes. Very happy.”
Chapter Fifteen
She didn’t look away or giggle or lower her lashes or do any number of flirty behaviors. Their eyes locked, and he saw what he had the night in the club and in his bedroom. Heat. Need. Want. His state of arousal amplified to a million. Confined by his jeans, his cock swelled to an almost painful state.
God, he wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and pay worship to her.
Bridget’s chest rose sharply, and finally she broke eye contact. Reaching for her glass, she nearly downed the whole thing…and that was kind of hot. “So…” She cleared her throat. “Madison never told me what you studied in college.”
“Sports management,” he answered, voice husky. “You?”
“History.” She smiled a little.
“History nerd?”
“You betcha.”
They went back and forth like that, taking turns asking one question after another. At some point, he moved to sit beside her, their legs pressed together. Hours passed. Another glass was refilled. He discovered she had wanted to be an anthropologist but had decided not to go that route. She didn’t elaborate, and when he told her that his parents had never watched one of his games, she didn’t push it. She talked about the Gala and he told her what it was like to live on the road during the season. Every so often, their eyes would meet and that unspoken yearning burned alive.
She wanted him—that much he knew. Maybe even as much as he wanted her, and his body was strung tight, his cock throbbing each time she shifted and their bodies brushed.
But as it neared one a.m. and she stood to go to bed, he let her. He actually fucking stood there and said good night.
Bridget stopped under the stairwell, her hair a deep auburn in the soft light. “Good night, Chad.”
He felt himself nod and then forced one foot in front of the other, going not where his body so wanted to go. Inside his bedroom, he closed the door behind him and then leaned against it, pressing his forehead against the cool wood. “Shit.”
Tonight really was going to be the longest night of his life, especially since self-restraint wasn’t something he typically practiced.
…
Bridget considered going naked. The pajama bottoms and tank top felt like too much on her hypersensitive skin. She was too old and too realistic to blame the champagne on the glow she was rocking right now or her ultra-bright eyes staring back from the bathroom mirror outside the guest room.
