Page 46 of Force Play

Page List

Font Size:

She chuckles. “You barely drank last night, Ari.”

I raise my brow at her. “You watching me, Spitfire?”

“I notice things,” she says lightly, a hint of playfulness to her tone. Apparently, sex will lighten her up. “Don’t act like you weren’t watching me, though.”

I shrug indifferently. “I notice things, too.”

Lucia rolls her eyes while laughing before pausing to take a breath, her tone more serious now. “Thank you for checking on me. I didn’t get a chance to say that last night.”

“No, you were too busy mauling me,” I smirk.

She gasps. “You kissed me first!”

“And then you dragged me to the supply closet.”

“Your dick didn’t seem to have any complaints.”

I bark out a laugh. “Not at all. Quite pleased with last night.”

She cocks her head to the side. “I’d say satisfactory.”

God, she loves to push my buttons.

I take a few steps closer to her. “If you think that was satisfactory, then you have no idea what good sex feels like.”

“Or have you only been with women who want to stroke the ego of the famous baseball player by telling him he’s good in the sack?”

I prevent myself from rolling my eyes at her words, afraid that doing so will give away what I keep solely to myself.

And Cole.

He’s the only one I trust enough to be honest with.

“Oh, they’re stroking something, but it’s not my ego, sweetheart.”

“You’re disgusting,” Lucia chides, no bite to her tone. Then she stands up, bringing her empty mug over to the sink. “I’m off to the gym, Casanova.”

Don’t think about her doing squats.

Don’t think about her doing squats.

Don’t think about her doing squats.


Well, it seems telling yourself not to think about something makes you think about it. Thank God she’s already walking down the hallway, so I can adjust myself without her noticing.

Traitorous dick.

I barely have the damn thing behaving when there’s a knock at my door.

Who the fuck is here unannounced first thing on New Year’s Day, and why aren’t they at home hungover like everyone else?

I grumble my way to the door before swinging it open, finding a smug-looking Cole Pierce on the other side.

“Good morning?” I say, letting him inside.

“Morning,” he smirks, making himself at home, grabbing a mug, and filling it with coffee. I will literally never understand how he’s such a morning person.