Page 49 of When He Plays

“I’m hard for you, Charlotte.” There. Blunt. “I was dreaming about you. I woke up to you on top of me. This isn’t random morning wood. Though, sure, it happens. Only not right now. This is me wanting to fuck you. Very badly.”

She jerked back again. Only this time, she fell over the edge of the bed.

Thunk.

“Charlotte!” He leapt out of the bed and raced around to her.

She bobbed up to her feet. “I’m fine!” Her cheeks flushed bright, vivid red. “Just slipped.”

“Because you were trying to get away from me.” He stalked to the dresser and hauled out a pair of his boxers. He jerked them on. Some coverage was better than nothing. “Message received.” She didn’t want⁠—

“I was dreaming about you, too.” A low confession.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Say again?”

“In the dream…” A swallow. A quick flash of her little pink tongue over her lower lip. “I was pretty much doing exactly what I was doing in reality.” A grimace. “Crawling all over you.”

Well, well. He turned to fully face her. “Feel free to crawl over me anytime.”

“We can’t.”

They could. In so many ways.

“It’s pretend. The relationship or hookup or whatever story we are selling? Pretend. It doesn’t matter how great of a kisser you are.”

Excuse me?

“It won’t happen. We won’t happen.” With that, she spun and fled toward the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

Logan pursed his lips. Then he took his time stalking across the bedroom. He paused a beat when he reached the bathroom door and then lifted his hand. His knuckles rapped against the wood. “Charlotte.”

“Go away, please.”

“Will do. But, quick question first.”

The door creaked open. Maybe three inches. He saw one of her golden eyes staring back at him.

He smiled at her. “Hi, there.”

“I’m not a good morning person.”

His head cocked. “Pretty sure it’s around one in the afternoon.” He’d noticed the time when he glanced over at the phone on his bedside table.

Her lips pressed together. “Feels like morning.” A mutter. The door opened a bit wider. Both golden eyes were revealed.

“Sure. Feels like morning.” He wasn’t going to argue that point. He had more pressing concerns. “I’m trying to make sure I didn’t misunderstand,” he began. Then he just stopped. Because, why not? He took a minute to simply enjoy her pretty face.

“What did you misunderstand?”

“Did you say I was a good kisser or a great one? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Her eyes glittered. Narrowed. Then she shut the door.

He smiled. “I’ll take that to mean…great. Thanks, Charlotte. Very exciting to know that my kiss can completely rock your world.”

She would be professional. Even if it killed her. Or him.

That night, Charlotte sat in the back of the limo, the new dress a bit too clingy on her in certain places, but at least she’d been able to bring her favorite knife on this outing. The knife was currently strapped to her thigh.