The Player's Club: Scott (16 page)

The
Twilight Zone
marathon was still running, she realized. It seemed sort of silly.

“This is so awesome,” he said, reaching for the sandwich she’d made. “Just what I need. Thanks for feeding me.”

She grinned happily as she turned the sound back on. It seemed impossible. This guy was too good to be true.

Of course, maybe she was making it too easy for him. And why should she turn herself inside out, just to please him, right?

He looked at her. “You’re hungry, right?”

She stopped, startled. “Well…yeah.”

“Then eat,” he said, nudging the plate toward her. “And stop thinking. I can practically hear you from over here.”

She glared at him, but just for a moment. Then she took a bite of her sandwich. It tasted just as good as she expected it to.

She squealed as a fat blob of sauce hit her thigh. “Crap,” she muttered through a mouthful of food, reaching for some napkins.

“No, please. Allow me.”

She squealed again when he leaned down, licking the offending spot thoroughly. When he was done, he was grinning at her mischievously.

She swallowed, feeling the sugary heat that he always managed to provoke in her. Maybe he was right. She
was
thinking too much. She should just enjoy it, for what it was, for as long as it lasted. That meant no more trying to impress him. No more trying to be what she thought would keep him in her life and in her bed.

This was probably going to end in disaster. So she would enjoy today while it lasted.

9

SCOTT COULDN’T BELIEVE how well his life was going. He was doing stuff with the Players at least once a week—mountain biking one afternoon, kayaking the next, hitting an after-hours party during the workweek. He also had a hot, wonderful woman who blew his mind—both in bed and out of it—on a regular basis. Even his job as a data analyst was going along smoothly, despite all he was juggling. Granted, he was feeling a bit like an impostor, wondering when someone was going to rip off his mask. He wasn’t as daring or as suave as he probably should be, given he was pledging The Player’s Club. And Amanda seemed to be under the misguided impression that he was some sort of International Man of Mystery, thanks to his late-night shenanigans.

Oh, yeah. Me and Austin Powers. Yeah, baby.

Still, while stressful, he had to admit being mistaken for a cool guy, with a cool club and a to-die-for girlfriend, was a nice change.

He was pretty sure his cover had been blown when he hunkered down on her couch, popcorn in hand and watching the
Twilight Zone
marathon with her. The really funny thing was, she thought he was indulging
her.
He probably would have been doing the same thing if he’d been alone that night. The fact that their geekness matched was a bit of a charge, too.

“Ferrell. You got those reports?”

Scott looked up. It was Rich, from Sales. Rich schmoozed the clients using the information Scott pulled together, and because of that, and the fat commission checks Rich got and Scott didn’t, Rich tended to treat all the data analysts as geeks. Otherwise, Rich was a nice enough guy, he supposed, although Rich had made some inappropriate remarks about Kayla when Scott was dating her. Maybe Scott was a bit prudish, but it wasn’t cool to say to a guy how much you’d like to “tap” his girlfriend’s ass. Granted, it was the Christmas party, and Rich had been quite plastered. Still, it was the principle of the thing. Consequently, Scott was always a bit leery when Rich came around.

It was also, incidentally, the reason why Scott never got drunk. Alcohol could be worse than truth serum in the wrong hands.

“Guess you’ve moved on from Kayla, huh?” Rich asked with a note of speculation.

Why do we keep having Kayla conversations?
Did the guy want to know if the field was clear to ask her out, or something? Ugh. No class. Any of the Players would have known better. Scott shrugged. “I guess,” he answered as casually as possible.

“Really went the other direction, huh?”

“What?” Scott finally focused on Rich, who seemed more than curious. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“Not in a bad way,” Rich assured him. “I mean, Kayla’s smokin’ hot, so you probably wanted a break, someone more in your, you know, league…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Scott snapped, pushing away from his desk. He moved toward Rich.

Rich obviously sensed the menace in Scott’s voice because he held his hands up in the universal calm-down, don’t-punch-me gesture. “Whoa! I’m not saying your new girl isn’t hot! She’s just, you know, more like a schoolteacher than a vixen like Kayla. Still, I’ll bet when she lets her hair down…”

Scott barely stopped himself from grabbing the guy by his shirt. Rich seemed to put that together as well, quickly shutting up. “How do you know Amanda?”

Rich swallowed visibly. “She’s… Well, ah, she’s at reception. In the, er, lobby.”

“Amanda’s
here?
” Scott blanched. Not that he minded seeing her, even without warning but… “Why didn’t Tricia tell me? Call me?”

Rich followed like a puppy when Scott stalked past him, headed for the entrance to the building. “A meeting just got out, and Tricia had to clean up the conference room, so there wasn’t anybody at the desk.”

“And you just happened to be hanging around,” Scott finished.

“Yeah.” Rich paused. “And, uh, so were a few of the sales team.”

Great.
Just great. He could just imagine what those jerks were regaling her with. He stopped just short of the lobby when he heard their voices, obviously laughing over the tail end of some story.

“You’re saying Scott picked you up at a rave?”

Scott skidded to a halt. “Oof,” Rich muttered as he ran into him.

Scott heard Amanda’s voice, throaty and low. “Sort of,” Amanda demurred.

“Scott.
Our
Scott?” This from John Thompkins, a top selling exec who had no use for the analysts…unless he needed a report done ASAP. His voice dripped with skeptical derision. “I thought Scotty was in bed every night by ten.” There was an answering burst of chuckles at that one.

“Who says he isn’t?” Amanda responded. The laughter at that one was even louder.

“I meant with like a glass of warm milk,” John said. What a dick. He’d make sure Thompkins’s next “rush” report got pushed to the bottom of the pile.

“Believe whatever you want,” Amanda replied. Her tone screamed her skepticism.

“Well, I used to date him,” a feminine voice drawled. “So I ought to know.”

Scott winced. That was Kayla. God, could this get any worse?

He stepped forward just as Kayla was saying, “I mean, Scott and I only dated for six months, but I never—”

“Amanda,” Scott interrupted, and Kayla at least had the grace to appear embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting you. You weren’t waiting long?”

Amanda shook her head, her eyes twinkling merrily. “Don’t worry,” she said, kissing him softly but thoroughly on the lips. “I was…entertained while I was waiting.”

“I’ll bet.” He glared at the handful of people from the sales team, including Kayla. The men fled, but Kayla’s eyes narrowed with irritation. “Why don’t we grab some lunch?” he offered.

“But I’d like to see your office,” Amanda protested mildly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Uh, okay,” he said, moving her past a frowning Kayla. “It’s not very exciting, though.”

“I’ve never worked in an office,” Amanda answered brightly. “So it’s always interesting to me to see people who do.”

“Never worked in an office? Really?” Kayla pounced. “What
do
you do?”

Amanda returned Kayla’s catlike smirk with a wide, genuine smile of her own.

“Lots of different things,” she said. “But right now, I’m a stripper.”

Every single person within earshot suddenly went silent at Amanda’s announcement. Rich, who was lingering nearby, gaped openly.

“My office is this way.” Scott quickly hustled Amanda away from the lobby, but not before a bunch of people peeked out of office doors and over cube walls, trying to get a good look at her. He shut his office door behind her, thankful for the first time that his office wasn’t the type with windows.

She burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth to muffle the sounds. When she regained her composure, she grinned at him, slightly sheepish. “Sorry. Maybe I was exaggerating there, but that woman was bugging the hell out of me.”

“No problem.”

Amanda looked apologetic. “I guess I blew your cover.”

“My cover?” Scott said, confused.

“They actually think you’re boring.” Amanda chuckled.

“Imagine that.” Scott cleared his throat.

“They don’t know you at all, do they?” She sounded fascinated. “Not about the Club, obviously. But they don’t even have any idea what you’re really like.”

“Amanda, I’m not really all that exciting.”

She blinked at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, feeling a little relief as he tugged her to his desk. She leaned on it, and he held her shoulders. “As far as they’re concerned, I’m just an analyst, Amanda. I didn’t date a whole lot…”

“Yeah, but I saw
who
you dated,” she interjected, rolling her eyes.

She had a point there: Kayla was a lot to take in on first meeting. “My life sounds exciting, but it’s really no big deal.”

She stopped him impatiently. “Okay. Were you or were you not skulking around on my fire escape at three o’clock in the morning when we first officially met?”

“That was different.”

“And have you or have you not gone skydiving?”

“Well, yes…”

“Did we practically have sex in a stairwell at a rave?”

He felt heat at the memory. “Definitely. But—”

“Did you get a lap dance on stage at a ten-thousand-dollar-a-ticket party?”

He grinned.

She leaned back against his desk. “Did you break into an arboretum at Golden Gate Park and have sex with me against a tree?”

He straightened a little. “Absolutely,” he said, moving a little closer.

“Do any of those things sound boring?”

“No,” he remarked, feeling both triumphant and like an idiot. “I mean, when you put it that way.”

She smiled, and then her eyes turned mischievous. She hopped up, sitting on his desk. “Does your door have a lock?”

“What?”

“Your office door,” she purred, her hands gliding down his shirt and lingering on the button of his fly. “Does it lock?”

He smiled, then took a step away from her, locking his door with a soft click. He stepped back into her embrace, noticing that she’d worn a relatively prim knee-length skirt. He eased the hemline up onto her thighs.

She wasn’t wearing underwear. He went fully hard in a rush.

“You’re the most exciting woman I’ve ever met,” he said hoarsely as she undid his pants, unzipping the fly and nudging the waistband of his pants and boxers down. His cock sprang from the constraining fabric. She parted her legs wider, and he stepped between them, easing himself into her tight, wet passage. She sighed, long and loud, shivering against him when he buried himself fully.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, nipping her jawline as he eased himself out a little, then pressed forward with a strong, gliding motion.

“Shh,” she murmured, her thighs clamping against his hips. “You feel so good…”

They clung to each other, his hips moving in a slow, maddening rhythm against her as his cock slid in and out of her, withdrawing almost fully before delving deep. She gasped every time their bodies connected. He reached between them, stroking her hard, erect clit, and she cried out softly.