WMIS 03 Play With Me (5 page)

Holy
fucking hell.

He
brushes his lips over mine once, then twice, before cupping my face firmly in
his big hands and sinking into me, kissing me soundly. God, it’s just as good
as I remember, if not better, and I didn’t think that was possible.

If
I were wearing panties, they’d be soaked; I’m panting, and I just want to climb
him. He pulls back and gently brushes loose hairs off my face.

“You’re
so sweet, baby.”

Shit.

I
step out of his embrace and rub my hands down my face, trying to clear my head.

“Will,
I’m only going to tell you this once. Please, don’t ever call me baby. Ever.”
My voice is controlled, firm. He scowls at me.

“Why?”

“I
don’t like it.”

“Why?”
he asks again.

“My
deadbeat father used to call me that, during the few times I saw him, and it
gives me the yucks. Just don’t, okay?”

“Okay.
Never again.” He shrugs and smiles at me. “Sorry.”

I
shake my head and start to retreat back to the elevator. “I have to get back.”

“I’ll
call you,” he promises, but I just shake my head again and smirk.

“Sure
you will,” I respond sarcastically, wave, and disappear into the elevator.

Chapter
Four

“Meg,
these just came for you.”

I’m
sitting at my computer, responding to email and drinking a Starbucks, settling
in before I have to take report from the night shift nurse and dig into work.
Jill hands me a huge bouquet of flowers, pink roses with calla lilies. I bury
my nose in them and breathe them in.

I
know who they’re from, but pull the card off the plastic holder and grin at the
note.

You
forgot to give me your number. Mine is 206-555-3598. Use it, please.

So,
he’s a little bossy.

“You
gonna call him?” Jill asks from behind me, clearly reading over my shoulder and
I laugh.

“I’ll
text him for now.”

“Hell,
I’d do a lot more than text him. Have you seen him?”

I
roll my eyes at her and tuck the card in my scrub pocket. “I was here
yesterday, remember?”

“The
kids are still talking about it. They were really nice.” Jill grabs a chart and
begins making notes.

“Yeah,
they were.” I murmur and pull my phone out of my pocket. I add Will’s number to
my contact list, but instead of adding his name, I label it
Football Star
.
I smirk and open a fresh text screen.

Thank
you for the beautiful flowers.

I
hit send and finish my email and coffee, and begin taking report from my
co-worker.

About
an hour later, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

You’re
welcome. Dinner tonight?

He
doesn’t waste any time, does he? Tonight is my only evening off through the
weekend. Starting tomorrow I’m working swing shifts until Monday, and let’s be
honest, I want to see him.

Sure.
I’m off work at six.

“Good
for you, girl.” I whirl at Jill’s voice and glare at her.

“Do
you always read over my shoulder?” I demand.

“No,
but now that I know there’s going to be juicy stuff to read, I will be.” She
winks and sashays past me into a patient’s room.

I’ll
pick you up at seven.

* *
*

“You
look fantastic,” Will smiles when I open my front door to him. I’m in a white
BoHo-style chiffon dress with a soft lace overlay, the hem hitting me
mid-thigh, and my brown cowboy boots. Several long necklaces hang around my
neck, a chunky cuff bracelet sits on my left wrist, and my hair is down.

“What
did you do to your hair?” He asks.

I
chuckle run my fingers through it. “I added a few pink strands. The kids at
work think it’s fun, and so do I.”

“Me,
too.” He smiles softly and steps back, ushering me out the door.

“Holy
shit, you have a Shelby Mustang!” I gasp as I close the door behind me. Will
stares down at me and then starts to laugh.

“It’s
the same car I drove you home in after the party, Meg.”

I
blink up at him and then gaze longingly at his car. I rode in a Shelby and
don’t remember? Impossible!

“Please
tell me I didn’t throw up in it.”

“Thankfully,
no.” He grins down at me and tucks a pink strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Where
are we going?” I ask as he follows me down to his spectacular car and opens the
door for me.

“I
thought we’d just go to a place downtown for dinner and maybe take a walk by
the water front.”

Instead
of sitting in the leather seat, I walk to the rear of the car and gaze at the
snake emblem, the chrome, hell, even the tires are pretty.

The
car is black, all black, with tinted windows, making the chrome look even
shinier. I feel my eyes glass over and I sigh.

“Meg?”

“Huh?”
I glance up into Will’s amused blue eyes and shake my head ruefully. “I’m
sorry, what?”

“Are
you okay?” he asks with a chuckle and moves to me, settles his big hand at the
small of my back, and between his touch and this car, I can’t breathe.

“This
is a Shelby.” I state, as if that explains everything.

“I
know,” he responds. “Are you a motor-head?”

“No,
I just really, really love your car.” Jesus, I love his car. This car is sexy
as hell. Suddenly, I picture myself going down on him in the front seat as he
drives and I gasp, squeeze my thighs together and run my fingers through my
loose hair.

“What
just went through that amazing head of yours?” he asks, his eyes narrowed, as
he grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. I swallow.

“Nothing.”
I lie.

“You’re
a horrible liar.”

“Let’s
just say, this car is really sexy, and does things to me,” I respond, not
looking him in the eye.

“Really,”
he drawls and smiles widely. He takes a tiny step closer, and tips my face up
to look at him. His other hand snakes around my waist and he starts to lower
his face to mine, but I step quickly out of his embrace.

“Don’t
get any ideas.” I warn him and walk over to the open passenger door. He steps
in front of me, blocking my way.

“Why
not?” he asks.

“This
is only a first date,” I remind him.

“So?”

“So,
no ideas, Montgomery.” I try to look stern, but can’t help but smile at him.
He’s just too… Will.

“Don’t
tell me you have that stupid girl three-date-rule?”

I
shrug, but don’t answer.

Hell
yes, I have a three date rule!

“Can
we count the engagement party as the first date?” he asks as he steps back and
allows me to slide down into the plush seat.

I’m
sitting in a Shelby! Holy fuck.

“No,”
I respond when he gracefully lowers his long frame into the driver’s seat.

“But
I took you home,” he reminds me with a sly grin.

“But
you didn’t take me
there
, so it wasn’t a date.”

“What
about yesterday at the hospital?” he asks and merges into traffic.

“Anything
that includes my job is not a date.” I laugh and run my hands along the dashboard.
“This car is my every fantasy,” I whisper.

Will’s
head whips around and he stares at me, his jaw dropped and then he starts to
laugh, a huge, loud belly laugh and I join him, giggling like crazy.

“Great,
so now you’re just using me for my car.”

“You’ll
live.” I shrug. “So, how is Jules? I haven’t had a chance to call her since the
party.”

“She’s
good. Busy with their new business, and planning the wedding. I don’t know why
they think they have to get married so soon.” He frowns and I want to run my
fingers through his messy hair, but link my fingers together and keep them
firmly in place in my lap.

“Did
they set a date?”

“Yeah,
for early October.”

“Why
so soon?” I ask, surprised. That’s only a couple months away.

“Who
knows? This is my sister we’re talking about. She said her whole life she
wasn’t interested in getting married, then she falls for a guy and now she
can’t get married fast enough.” He frowns and pulls the car into a parking
garage.

“Maybe
she’s just ready to get married.”

“I
guess.”

“Don’t
you like Nate?” I ask and turn in my seat to watch his face.

“I
do. He’s a good guy, and he obviously loves my sister.” He backs into a parking
space and I smile widely at him.

“What?”
he asks.

“So,
you’re just being an overprotective big brother then?” I tease him.

He
frowns and then grins. “Yeah, can’t help it.”

“Jules
is good, Will.” I pat his thigh and he captures my hand in his and kisses my
knuckles, one by one, and just like that my stomach clenches and my breath
catches and I wonder how the fuck I’m going to hold out for two more dates.

“Your
fingertips have little callouses on them,” he murmurs.

“It’s
from the guitar.”

His
blue eyes meet mine. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

“Sometime,”
I respond and grin.

“I
love that dimple in your cheek.” He leans in and kisses my dimple softly once,
then again and backs away, still clutching my fingers, to pin me with those
fiercely blue eyes. “Do you feel this too?” he whispers.

“Oh,
yeah,” I immediately respond. It’s futile to deny it. I want him so much it
hurts.

“Good.
Come on, I’m hungry.” Will climbs out of the low car and briskly walks around
to the passenger side, opens my door, and offers his hand to help me out.

“I
seriously love this car.”

“I’ll
let you drive it home,” he replies and links our fingers together.

“Seriously?”
I gape up at him as he leads me down to the street.

“Sure,
why not?”

“It’s
a Shelby.” I state again, slowly, so he can understand the words coming out of
my mouth.

“Honey,
it’s just a car.”

“It’s
a Shelby.” I shake my head. “I’m not driving it. If I wreck it, I can’t afford
to replace it.”

“Do
you get into many car accidents?” He narrows those eyes down at me and I
giggle.

“No.
But with my luck, this would be the time.”

“You’ll
be fine. Besides,” he winks down at me, “I have insurance.”

He’s
so confident. His voice, the way he walks, the way he carries himself. So
confident.

And
sexy as all get out.

That
ass alone should be illegal.

But
I really love his shoulders and arms. He’s perfectly sculpted, shoulders are
broad, arms so strong. Hell, he lifted me like I was nothing.

And,
thinking about that makes me go wet again.

Calm
down, Meg. This is only Date One.

He’s
led me into a sports bar in downtown Seattle. I recognize it. It’s upscale,
full of professional sports memorabilia, televisions on various sports shows
and games, and large, dark furniture.

Given
the time of day, the place is pretty full of business men and other locals
unwinding after a long workday.

Will
leads me to a booth and sits opposite of me.

“Have
you been here before?” he asks.

“A
few times, yeah.”

“They
make a good burger here.”

“You
eat burgers?” I ask, surprised. I would think that with his rigorous training
schedule he’d be on a strict diet.

“Not
too often, but yeah, I do. I burn a lot of calories every day, so I pack a lot
of food in.” He offers me a menu.

Instead
of reading it, I gaze over at him and he meets my eyes. I run my eyes over his
face, those broad shoulders and arms, and down to his long-fingered hands. He’s
delicious in a gray t-shirt and jeans. When my gaze returns to his, his face is
sober, his eyes molten blue, and I can’t tell if he’s pissed or just really,
really turned on.

“Keep
looking at me like that and the fucking three date rule will be out the window,
Megan.”

Make
that really, really turned on.

“Hey
guys, what can I getcha?” A waitress sets waters down before us and takes out
her notebook.

“What
would you like?” he asks me without looking at the waitress, his eyes still on
fire.