Page 73 of Scoring Chances

I’ve never been in his room. I’ve been working here for a little over a week and I haven’t dared entered Joshua’s room. It smells like him. Wood. Citrus. Spice.

He smells like warmth and he smells like danger and the second we step into his room. I know there’s no going back.

He shuts the door behind him. And undoes the rest of the buttons on his shirt letting his hands fall to the side once it’s fully open.

“So you tell me how you want this to go, Princess.”

He slips his hands into his pockets and watches me. I hug my kindle to my chest and find the edge of his bed to take a seat.

“This is for research… obviously.”

He gives one nod of understanding. “Obviously,” he parrots, in a voice that doesn’t sound like he agrees.

“So, you know. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Like the kiss at the beach bar.”

I squint at him, remembering the kiss that mean so much.

“Right,” I say.

He chuckles. “You’re so full of shit.”

I scoff. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy, Cassidy.” He walks up to me until he’s standing mere inches in front of my face. He slips a hand out of his pocket and cups my chin between his fingers, pulling my face up to look at him.

“Tell me, how many times have you touched yourself thinking of me?”

My mouth falls open at his audacity.

“That’s what I thought,” he husks.

I pull my chin out of his grip but he holds it tighter.

“You like when I praise you, too. I can see it in the way your cheeks turn that pretty shade of pink. He brushes his thumb over my lips. And the way you chew on this bottom lip.”

I try to swallow without him knowing. But the way he’s holding onto me, I can’t hide it.

“Be a good girl and read for me, Princess,” he says, motioning to the kindle.

One night. I can do just one night with him. For research. The kids are asleep. It’s just us.

It’s research.

I open my kindle and pick the book that he had sent me the excerpt from.

In the book, the girl isn’t a virgin. So they do a lot things together that I can’t even imagine doing right now.

But I’m curious to see what Joshua will do. I find the last scene I read and clear my throat.

“No,” Joshua says. “Not out loud.”

“What?”

“Find the scene you want to read. Not the one you think I want to hear.”

“Okay.” I scroll through the chapters and find one I know intrigues me. I look up at him and he motions for me to read.

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