Page 8 of Playing Hardball
I’ve never been one of those men who has trouble controlling his emotions or physical actions. Kimberly is seriously testing me though. What is it about her that’s drawing me in?
“It’s alright,” I tell her.
Once I’ve washed my meal down with some orange juice, I thank her and get up to leave.
“Wait,” she says and I stand still, doing as she asked.
She bites her lips nervously before standing as well.
“What are your plans for today?” she asks, while simultaneously loosening the strings of her apron. I’m about to speak but my ability to do so dies when I see Kim’s outfit.
She really is trying to kill me.
She’s dressed in a sheer lace top. The arms are a loose mess of crisscross strings and the topmost part of it is see-through, revealing a lot of her ample cleavage. I swallow, then swallow again. She walks toward me and I continue to watch without moving or speaking, as if in a trance.
“Wesley,” she says.
Lust and a little bit of anger shoot through me. I want to tell her that that’s not my name. Instead, I grab both of her arms and push until her back hits the counter. She gazes up at me, her brown eyes clashing with mine. I try to remember all the reasons this is a bad idea but as my mouth descends on hers, none of them seem good enough.
Chapter 5
(Kimberly)
______
It took me a while to gather the nerve to actually try to seduce Wesley. But now, what had originally been a game feels dangerously close to something real and scary.
His tongue darts into my mouth and my knees buckle. He holds me against his chest and I instinctively touch the hard lines of muscles over his chest.
“Wesley,” I moan.
I think the sound makes him angry because when I say it, he kisses me with more passion. I feel the heat emanating off him in waves. My hands tangle in his hair and my legs tighten around his waist. I had no idea when he even lifted me up. His hard length digs into my thigh, arousing me even more. I want nothing more than to tear his clothes off.
He begins kissing down my neck. I let out soft, whimpering moans. He turns his attention to my breasts, his hands pull at my sheer top and I hear a frustrated growl when the neckline doesn’t lower to give him access to what he wants.
Our needs are aligned though, so I reach between us and yank the top off. I’m not wearing a bra and his mouth latches onto a puckered nipple immediately. His palm closes over the other bare breast and I arch into the caress. His fingers tease and pinch while I continue to make incoherent sounds.
“Wesley,” I moan again and he growls.
He bites one nipple before sucking the sting away.
“I hate it when you call me that,” he says hoarsely before moving to capture my mouth in his.
My brain finally starts working and I remember why I did this in the first place.
“Then what’s your real name?” I ask in a sultry whisper.
At first, I think he doesn’t hear me. He’s too busy trying to remove my shorts.
“Wesley,” I say grabbing his shoulder and forcing eye contact. “What’s your real name?”
It’s like I doused him in cold water. The desire in his green eyes immediately recedes and he places me down.
“I told you I’m not telling you that,” is all he says before stepping back and stomping away in anger.
I put on my top, regretting asking him the question in the first place. I should have just let him continue. I touch my hands to my lips. It’s been so long since I got kissed by someone. Wesley has awoken all my pent-up desires.
I want him and he obviously wants me too. But, he’s not going to get me unless he tells me his real name. I wonder which of us is going to cave first.
