The Player Next Door (9 page)

“I’m still trying to understand your idea. How about you try again in plain, simple words?”

She took a breath. Simple declarative sentences. She could do that. “Why won’t you sleep with me? Aren’t you attracted to me?” Oops. Those were questions, not statements.

“Yes. And because we’re drunk.”

She huffed out a breath, managing to poof the fine hairs that danced around her face. She brushed them away in irritation. “I’m getting more sober by the second.”

“I’m not.”

She waited for him to say more, but he remained stubbornly silent. So she folded her arms and leaned back against the wall in the exact mirror of his position.

“I’m attracted to you but I don’t want a permanent fixture in my life.” She shuddered at that. Edward had become like a heavy antique desk in her life. Too big to move and too expensive to throw out. Not without burning down the entire house. Which is basically what she’d done when she’d moved here.

“So you’re looking for someone temporary.”

“Aren’t you? I saw an interview that said you don’t intend to settle down with a woman until after your career. Is that wrong?”

He didn’t answer that question exactly. Instead, he shifted his feet to stand more upright off the wall. “I’m not looking for anyone at all, Tori.”

Oh. Shit. “I, um, I thought with the kisses and everything that you were interested. At least on a just-for-now basis. Which is basically where I live, especially in the summer, so I thought it would work.” She sighed, unaccountably depressed. “I guess I’ll just find someone else. Thanks anyway.”

She started to move away from him. In her mind, this humiliating conversation was over, but before she took more than one step, he was suddenly right there in front of her. Practically looming over her.

“Mike?”

“How are you going to find this someone else?”

She shrugged. She hadn’t really given it much thought. Her mind had centered on him. But there were all the usual places. “Bars, I guess. Someplace downtown. I know too many people in Evanston to shop here.”

She felt a sudden flare of tension in him. A silent anger that hit her uncomfortably on a visceral level. “You can’t just pick up guys in a bar.”

Actually that was something she definitely knew she could do. She looked at him, making sure her thoughts were clear on her face.

He sighed. “I mean, obviously you can, but you shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m tired of this conversation,” she said rather than argue with him. God, she hated it when people told her what she could and couldn’t do. Since he was blocking access to the kitchen, she spun around and started for her bedroom. “It was an idea. If you don’t like it, no problem. I’ll just—”

“Do what you want anyway,” he said. He grabbed her arm, and this time his hands weren’t as gentle as before. They were big and hot against her body, and they held her in place as surely as iron shackles. “Tori, listen to me.”

She stopped, startled that the idea of shackles with this man was intriguing. She had no objection to being restrained and pleasured, but would he let her chain him up? Would he—

“You are the oddest woman I’ve ever met,” he said.

She smiled. “I count my novelty as an asset.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

She laughed. Not many people realized she cultivated her air of odd insouciance, especially around new acquaintances. If they didn’t flow with her from the start, she saw no reason to invest time in building a friendship. It was the rare person who enjoyed her odd sense of humor. And no one besides him realized she acted this way on purpose. Or at least she exaggerated her natural tendencies on purpose. Some things slipped out of her mouth even when she was trying to be on her best behavior.

Meanwhile, he was studying her face again. She got the impression he did that with all his opponents. Narrowed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, and looked at them with an intensity that she should find uncomfortable. Instead, she found it rather thrilling. Who in her life had ever looked at her that closely? No one. And—

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll break your heart?” he asked. “Come fall?”

She laughed, which probably came out more insulting than she intended. His face hardened, and she rushed to explain. “Look, we have nothing in common. I find you fascinating now, but not many things
—
even people
—
hold my attention for long.”

“You’ve got a PhD. Doesn’t that take years? So that means something has held your attention for a good long time.”

True. “But not people. I’m just not wired that way.”

He straightened, his expression crying “bullshit” as clearly as if she were telling him the sky was green. “How many years were you with Edward?”

“Too many. And I was bored long ago, but too lazy to leave. My fault. Now I know.” She smiled. “Think of it as built-in obsolescence.”

“What if you break my heart?”

She blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“What, guys don’t have hearts?”

“Guys do. You don’t. Your own words in that interview. Until your career is done, you’ve given yourself body, mind, and soul to basketball. Are you saying your heart isn’t included in that list?”

He looked uncomfortable and so she knew she was right. Time to press her advantage.

“So you don’t want a real girlfriend any more than I want a real boyfriend.” She touched his chest, spreading her fingers out and covering a small fraction of the area there. He was a big powerful guy, and the sight of her tiny hand there had her thinking of other places she could put her small hand. And wondering if he was super big there, too. “I want to go to bed with you, Mike,” she confessed, her tone more of a whisper. “There wasn’t much thought beyond that.”

“But with no strings. Separating as soon as the season begins.”

She nodded. “And hopefully with some awesome memories.”

He shifted his hand to cover hers on his chest. He totally engulfed her, surrounding her all the way up past her wrist.

“Do smart people get drunk different than dumb ones? Like some weird PhD drunk? Coming up with weird ideas when blitzed?”

“Well, of course we do. How do you think I came up with my thesis project?”

He smiled at her, clearly wanting the answer.

“I undertook a thorough study of absinthe in all its historically accurate forms. By morning, I’d decided that it was directly responsible for certain Egyptian cults and many forms of Bast worship.”

He frowned. “Bast?”

She gestured with her chin to the bathroom. “That’s her on the wall. The Cat Goddess.” She waited a moment while he looked at the elegant depiction of a regal black cat with a mysterious expression and not-so-mysterious boobs. “Come on. You think any sober person would think of that?”

He had no answer to that, which is usually what happened when she spoke about her research. By the time he was looking back at her, she had stepped tighter into his personal space. Close enough that her forearm and elbow settled against his belly.

“So…want to rebound with me?” she asked.

“There are so many things wrong with that question, I can’t even begin.”

Disappointment curled through her. Again. But before she could pull away, he started backing her up. He simply started moving forward, forcing her to quickly step backward. Three, seven, ten. Oh! He was backing her into her bedroom.

“Um, what are you doing?” she asked, though she’d already figured it out.

“I’m going to show you how a professional rebounds.” Three more steps until her hip bumped into a half-unpacked moving box next to her dresser.

Meanwhile, she was working his words around in her mind. “Um, was that supposed to make sense to me?”

“Jesus, woman, I have no idea. I’m too busy thinking of all the novel things I want to try with you.”

“Oh,” she said, her mind slipping back to the handcuffs. “Well, that’s the other—”

He stopped her words with his tongue. All in all, she decided she was okay with that.

Chapter Seven

Tori was an impatient lover. Mostly because
—
as her mother often accused
—
she had the attention span of a gnat. That wasn’t exactly true. She’d once read the entire Holy Bible on a Sunday afternoon. But in terms of sexual arousal, her interest often waned quickly. She’d learned early that guys got annoyed when she suddenly wanted to look up esoteric facts in the middle of sex. So she’d started going through the act as fast as possible before her mind wandered somewhere else.

Her partners usually didn’t mind. Edward especially had been all about thrust, release and here’s your vibrator, honey, in case you’re feeling neglected. Though in all fairness, he’d been happy to hold the vibrator for her if she wanted.

Mike was an entirely different kind of man.

He didn’t start with stripping her naked. In her experience, that was the first order of business for most men. Especially when they were as aroused as Mike obviously was. No clothing could hide an erection that large, and he was in thin jeans. Plus, her hand was right there, stroking downward over the heat.

She only managed to do it once before he caught her fingers and drew it to his lips. He kissed her fingers, then stayed still, obviously debating something in his mind.

“Mike—”

He leaned forward, kissing her lightly. She expected to be slammed onto the bed, but he just licked her lips, nipped at the edges, and then eventually sealed her mouth with his.

In short, he was a slow lover, and she was terrified that she’d insult him when her mind wandered elsewhere. So she broke away and stripped off her tee. She would have taken everything off if her legs hadn’t been entwined with his. “You don’t have to go slow, Mike. It’s okay.”

He chuckled. “I’ve never heard a woman say that before.” Then he sobered. “I’m a big guy, Tori. I want to make sure you’re fully involved before we do this.”

She winced, realizing what he meant: the slow build to a great climax. Except she just wasn’t built that way. “Um, I never get fully involved in anything. At least not for long.”

He smiled. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Oh shit. Not what she meant. He was a competitor and if she put up a goal, he would go through hell and high water to meet it. But he couldn’t with her, and he was too perceptive for her to fake it effectively.

“I’m just not wired for slow,” she said. “I distract too easily.”

He smiled and let his hands trail down her sides, making her shiver. “Good information there. I’ll need to work for your attention.” He grinned, his white teeth showing brilliantly against his caramel skin. “Good thing I’m used to electrifying millions of people.”

“That’s in basketball—oh… That’s…nice.” He was tracing one finger around her nipple. It was even through her bra, but she felt it like a lightning bolt through her belly. But then he kept doing it, adding in a pinch occasionally to the circling motion. Over and over until her sight fuzzed out and she began thinking about what he’d said.

Just exactly how large was he? She tried to think back to her other lovers. She didn’t remember any of them as particularly big, so did that mean…

He touched her chin and she blinked, focusing back on him. Oh shit. She’d just dazed out on him.

“Mike, I…um…”

He touched her lips with his thumb, pressing them closed. “That was just a baseline, Tori. I wanted to see what you did when you got bored.”

“I wasn’t bored,” she lied.

He chuckled. “Yes, you were. I only have one rule: don’t lie to me.”

She swallowed. It wasn’t like she lied as a general rule, but guys’ egos were fragile. Especially in the lovemaking department. “I—”

“You’re going to have to learn to trust me on this. My ego can handle it.”

She didn’t believe him. She wanted to, but honestly, he was a superstar athlete. He was used to being the best at everything, especially anything physical. And he’d probably had women telling him he was the greatest lover ever since high school. No way was he going to like it—

“So what’s going on in that head of yours?”

She blinked. Damn it, she’d just spaced out on him again. Normally she could focus better.

“Let me guess,” he said with a smile. “You’re used to lying to your lovers. Telling them they’ve rocked your world when actually you were off thinking about Hindu gods or something.”

Damn. He was smarter than she’d ever guessed. And she just wasn’t up to faking it with him. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

He leaned forward, nuzzling along her neck, his words a low rumble against her skin. “Maybe you need to let me try.” He licked the skin just behind her ear and she shivered. “Don’t worry,” he said as his large right hand squeezed her thigh. “I’m just getting the lay of the land here. We’re not even close to the main event.”

“But that’s the problem,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed as she felt his breath heat where he’d nibbled. “I’m not made for long games. It’s not your fault—”

“It’s nobody’s fault, Tori.” He pulled back enough that he looked directly into her eyes. “It’s just a new challenge, that’s all.”

His hand slid up underneath her shorts. His fingers were long as they kneaded higher and higher on her thighs. God that felt good. Really good.

She wondered how she was going to get her shorts off. Did she push his hands away now? Did she unbutton the jeans or should she start to undress him?

“Tori,” he whispered, and her eyes abruptly riveted back on his.

Oh shit. Her mind had wandered off again. Jesus, she was terrible at this.

“Don’t think so much,” he said.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Look into my eyes.”

She was. She had been. Oh wait, maybe she hadn’t been. She frowned, trying to think.

He quickly nipped her nose, then moved back such that she looked right into his eyes. “Whenever you leave me, your eyes slide away. Forget the not lying rule. My one rule is this: you look at me.”

“I was.”

“Look directly into my eyes and I’ll look straight into yours. We’re going to hold this connection the whole time.”

“The whole time?” She wasn’t sure that was possible.

“It’s a challenge, Tori. Aren’t you up for it?”