Page 41 of Once Upon A Player
“I had a wonderful time tonight.” She gives me the most angelic smile as she hugs her bag to her waist, and inside I’m dying. I should take her home, but the house is empty, and what if she’s sick during the night?
Pathetic.Why don’t I admit that I don’t want to leave her alone tonight? Just because she comes back to my place doesn’t mean we’ll end up sleeping together.
Damn fucking right, it doesn’t. I’m not that much of a prat.
“Good.” We link fingers, and she rests her head on my shoulder. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve invited a girl back to my place, but this is Violet, my intentions are totally honorable, and the words lock in my throat.
Dating has never been so complicated. I don’t want her assuming I expect anything from her.
She slides her other hand along my chest, and I kiss the top of her head. Her hair is so soft, I want to bury my face in her red curls and inhale that elusive scent of coconut and cherries.
Not tonight, mate.
It physically hurts to pull back.
“I could stay all night, if you like.” Her whisper hits me right where it shouldn’t, and I gingerly shift my arse in the hope that’ll ease my hard-on.
It doesn’t.
How many times have I wanted her to say this? But even if she’s over her ex, tonight still feels too much like a rebound to me.
Sex isn’t on the menu.I know that, except that’s what Violet’s offering, and for all I know, it’s only because she drank more than she meant to tonight.
Not a great feeling. And not just for my ego, either.
She’s all sleepy-eyed and irresistible, and I steal a lingering kiss. Hell, I’m not a saint, and she tastes like fucking heaven.
“I do like.” I sound feral. Not that she seems mind, as she cups my jaw and tugs me close for another kiss.
Which I take. It’s only a kiss. We’ve kissed before. I’m not crossing any line.
By the time Chad pulls up in the underground car park, I can hardly think straight. Somehow, I manage to get us into the lift, although I don’t remember walking from the car, and as soon as the door closes, she winds her arms around my neck and backs me up against the wall.
Holy shit. Before I can stop myself, I cup her butt, and she melts against me. She’s soft and hot and everything I’ve wanted since the day I met her.
Back off.It’s a faint command, and I don’t even know what it means anymore.
We stumble from the lift to my penthouse, and I kick the front door shut behind me. Violet staggers and laughs, and every reason why this is the worse idea ever slams through my brain.
I rake my hand through my hair and exhale a ragged breath. I’ve never experienced the blue-ball phenomena, but I reckon right now mine are turning purple.
“Do you want a coffee? Hot chocolate?” I back toward the kitchen, and she follows me. Might’ve been a good idea if I’d released her hand first. Unfortunately, I can’t find the motivation.
“No, thanks. I couldn’t eat or drink another thing. Have I told you what a fabulous night I had? Thank you so much.”
“Yeah.” She’s told me several times what a great night she had, which reinforces the wholeback the fuck off, Carter,demand. “You’re welcome.”
She sways her hips, as though she’s dancing to music only she can hear, and with every step she makes toward me, I back up a corresponding one. If my body wasn’t burning up in frustrated agony right now, it’d be funny.
I come to a grinding stop against the worktop, and she circles my ear-stud with the tip of her finger, as though it’s the most fascinating thing ever. I swallow a groan. Since when has a girl touching my earlobe been so sexy?
She abandons my stud and grips my shoulder, before kicking off her shoes and dropping about four inches. There’s no reason why that should be such a turn-on, but I’m way beyond rationalizing anything tonight. Even her sigh of relief and look of bliss that washes over her face is bloody irresistible.
“That’s better. My shoes werekillingme.”
I grunt something unintelligible, because my brain’s given in and migrated south. My fingers plunge through her hair and tangle around the chain of tiny flowers threaded through her curls.
“Ouch.” She winces, pulls free of my other hand and with more luck than skill we manage to free the chain from her hair.
