Page 39 of When He Plays

“What’s it going to be, Charlotte?” Logan asked in his deep, dark, and tempting voice. “Are you ready to fuck on my desk?”

Chapter Eight

Did he expect her to say yes?

Um…no. No, he did not. Not his precious, rule-following Charlotte. The CIA operative who was so dedicated to her job that she had not just saved his life once. Nope. She’d gone above and beyond and done the big deed twice. She’d literally saved his ass twice, and there was something insanely sexy about a woman who kicked ass and took names and literally saved his ass.

He would love to fuck her on the desk. Or against the wall. Or in the big, king-size bed that waited in his suite. But even as Charlotte’s lush lips parted, he knew she’d say…

“No.” Her hand rose to push against his chest. “You are not going to play with me.”

“I would never.” He was as offended as he sounded. Playing with her was not on his agenda.

Her long lashes fluttered. “Come on. You play with everyone, Logan. We’re all like pieces on a chessboard for you. You move everyone around where you want us to be.”

His thumb brushed along her chin. He loved that pointed little chin. “Chess bores me. I’m more a poker guy, haven’t you noticed?”

“You cheat at poker.”

“Shh.” His index finger rose and pressed softly to her lips. “Those kinds of accusations are dangerous.”

He felt the lick of her tongue against his finger.

He was the one to suck in a sharp breath. “That’s dangerous, too.”

She jerked back. Only there was nowhere for her to go. He had her trapped between his body and the door.

“You’re dangerous,” she accused.

“I’ve been told that before.” For years and years and years.

“Morris is dead.”

Yes, he supposed they did need to circle back to that jerk. “I will be searching his phone.” He might have acquired it before the ambulance had arrived. Another fast, sleight of hand bit. He’d given the phone over to Evans because his VP of Security was very good at searching tech. “We’ll check his texts and emails. Morris is a greedy punk but he isn’t usually such a dumbass.” This part bothered him. When people acted out of character, he took notice. Mostly because something usually caused an individual to change behavior. Something or someone. “I gave him the opportunity to leave town. He should have left. Coming after me that way—it’s just not usually his style.” Morris never liked to be the one who got his hands dirty. He let others do the grunt work.

“Maybe he was just really pissed off at you.”

“Or maybe someone pushed him into taking those shots. I cut off Morris’s cash flow. He would have needed someone to finance him, stat.”

Another flutter of her long lashes. “Wait a second, are you telling me that you think someone just paid Morris to kill you?”

“Didn’t say it exactly but, yes, it’s a possibility. One I’ll explore later.” One he’d already given Evans orders to explore. “Right now, we both need to rest. Don’t know about you, but I don’t function at my best when I haven’t gotten my beauty sleep.” He could feel the crash coming. “Apparently, we’re not fucking here and now, so let’s go up to my suite, shall we?” He backed up and offered her his arm.

A pretty gallant move, or so he thought.

But she didn’t take his arm. “We can pretend to fuck.”

He gave a deliberate gasp. “That is not nearly as enjoyable.”

Her lips almost twitched. Almost, but she straightened them out. “So I’ve heard.”

Okay, hold on. There was something about that response… “Just how much fucking experience do you have?”

A quick inhale. No other response. Interesting.

“Let me clarify.” Logan watched her very, very closely. “When I say ‘fucking experience’…I literally mean how much experience with fucking do you have?”

“I’m not asking for a fucking resume from you.”