Page 92 of Wicked Player

But could I risk my job over him?

There were hundreds of jobs in the world. But only one man who made me feel the way Gage did.

Which meant, when it came down to it, the answer wasn’t all that hard.

* * *

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“No,” I answered Gage. We barely got into his house before he was pushing me down the front entryway straight to the kitchen. “I don’t really feel like anything though.”

“Tough.” He took me to a stool and set me on it. I’d grumble if it wasn’t sort of cute. “I’ll make some sandwiches and I want to hear what your boss said. Then we’re calling Connor.”

“Bossy, bossy,” I muttered and propped my chin into my hand, elbow on the counter. He was digging in his fridge and when I spoke, pulled out and slid his eyes to me. Narrowed and a bit wicked. I felt that look down to my toes. “I’m just sayin’.”

“You like me bossy.”

Yeah. I really did.

“So. Your boss.” He changed the subject quickly and it took me a minute to get off the visions where his bossiness took me. “And do you like ham, turkey, or salami sandwiches?”

“Yes. All of it.”

“Thought you weren’t hungry.”

“Well, I wasn’t. But I’m hoping I’ll need energy later.”

He slid packages of meat and other sandwich fixins onto the counter. “Didn’t bring you here expecting anything, Elizabeth. You need time to figure things out, I get it.”

I opened the package of salami and took a bite. “So does that mean it’s off the table later?”

“No.” He leaned forward, palms pressed to the edge of his gray and white marble counter. Muscles popped on his arms and took my attention from the heat in his eye. Dang. He was so yummy. “You gotta know, I’m at the point where I’d give you anything and everything you want. All you have to do is ask.”

There was a weight to his words. An implication I didn’t dare read too much into. “Okay then. Food first.”

“And your boss.”

“Right.” Somehow, knowing we were on the same page made things easier. “I have the excuse that I didn’t know who you were, but honestly, I’m not defending myself if it comes down to it in front of a board of men with that answer. Plus, I eventually did. Professionally and ethically, once I even suspected I should have walked away. I was just…I was hypnotized by your dick and I didn’t think straight.”

He barked out a laugh and paused slicing a tomato. “My dick hypnotized you?”

“Well, I mean. Yeah.”

“Jesus.” He went back to cutting the tomato. “If you’re ever asked for a comment by a reporter, please, for the love of God, keep your mouth shut.”

“I’m the queen of no comments.” I grinned and reached for a piece of bread. Tearing off a chunk of the twelve-grain cardboard looking healthy crap, I chewed slowly. “So really it is all your fault.”

“I’ll shoulder the blame of hypnotizing you through my cock. Don’t worry.”

Had I guessed this morning I’d have anything to laugh at I wouldn have called myself nuts. But there I was. Eating Gage’s food, watching him make me a meal, in his house and somehow, I knew—

Everything was going to work out just fine, even if it wasn’t how I originally pictured.

“In all honesty, me getting suspended is on me. That’s not your fault. We both could have done things differently and while at least for now I’ve totally blown my shot at getting the promotion to the prime time news desk, it’ll be okay.”

He was tossing our sandwiches together and looked up. “Yeah?”

“I mean it sucks, but if I can somehow keep my job, I’ll be okay. Another promotion will come at some point.”

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