Page 21 of The Player

“Seth,” she gasped, her voice hitching as the building pleasure coiled within her. With every stroke, he hit a depth that sent stars bursting behind her closed eyelids, and she cried out.

“Let go, Hope,” he urged, his breath hot against her ear, his voice a rough whisper that wove through the haze of her senses. “I’ve got you.”

And then, as if his words were the key to release the lock, the tension snapped. The explosion of bliss was blinding, all-consuming. Hope’s body shook with the force of it, waves of ecstasy rolling through her in a relentless tide. She cried out again, the sound echoing off the walls, raw and full of wonder.

“God, yes… Hope,” Seth groaned, his own release following close on the heels of hers.

She felt him shudder, his body tensing above her in powerful spasms and then collapsing, his weight a comforting pressure that anchored her to the here and now.

Lying beneath him, she held him close, feeling the aftershocks trembling through them both. A profound stillness enveloped the room, their mingled breaths the only sound. In that moment, wrapped in the sanctuary of Seth’s arms, Hope dared to believe they might be given another shot at never being alone again.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, almost hoping he didn’t hear.

“Always,” he answered, his lips tracing the curve of her shoulder, sealing the vow as he rolled from her body, dragging her close.

Hope lay in their bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the previous night playing on a loop in her mind. The sheets were cool against her skin, but the memory of Seth’s warmth, the way he had held her so close, still lingered. She could feel the remnants of that connection, a deep-seated warmth that had nothing to do with the blanket wrapped around her.

It wasn’t just the intensity of the scene they’d performed or the way Seth had looked at her with such fierce protectiveness when he’d helped her down from the cross. It was something more, something that went beyond the roles they were playing. She could still feel the press of his lips against her temple, the reassuring strength of his hands as he had wrapped her in the blanket and carried her to the private room.

But there was something else gnawing at the edges of her memory, something that had been obscured by the haze of exhaustion and endorphins. She remembered a knock on the door, the sound of it cutting through the quiet intimacy of the room. And then… a man. A man who had stepped inside, his presence unsettling in a way she couldn’t quite define.

Had it been real? Or had it been some strange, residual dream tangled up with the aftermath of the night’s events?

She needed to know.

Turning her head, she found Seth already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to her as he pulled on a shirt. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his muscular frame. He looked calm, composed—everything she wasn’t feeling at the moment.

“Seth,” she said, her voice still rough with sleep. “Did someone visit us last night? After the scene?”

Seth paused, his hands stilling on the buttons of his shirt. He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and serious. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Hope sat up, the blanket pooling around her waist as she focused on him. “Who was he? What did he want?”

Seth finished buttoning his shirt, then moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m pretty sure he was the owner of the club,” he explained. “But more importantly, I think he’s one of the higher-ups in the Obsidian Cartel.”

Hope’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of excitement flooding her veins. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning forward, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and anticipation.

Seth nodded; his expression serious. “It’s not confirmed, but everything about him—his demeanor, the way he spoke, the way everyone in the club deferred to him—points to someone with significant power. And the fact that he came to see us personally… that’s not something you ignore.”

Hope’s mind raced, the implications of Seth’s words sparking a fire within her. This was exactly what they’d been hoping for, the ‘in’ they needed to get closer to the cartel. If they had caught the attention of someone that high up, it meant they were on the right track, that their cover was working.

“This is it, Seth,” she said, her excitement palpable. “We’ve got his attention. This could be our way in.”

But Seth didn’t look as thrilled as she felt. His brow was furrowed, his mouth set in a grim line. “I think it’s more you who’s caught his attention, Hope,” he said, his voice carrying a note of concern. “And that’s what worries me.”

Hope frowned, dismissing his concern with a wave of her hand. “So, what if it’s me? We need to exploit this, Seth. We’ve worked too hard to get this close, and we can’t back off now.”

Seth’s jaw tightened, and she could see the tension in his shoulders as he leaned closer to her. “This isn’t a game, Hope. This man—whoever he is—has taken a particular interest in you, and that puts you in a dangerous position.”

“Dangerous?” Hope scoffed, shaking her head. “We’ve always known this was going to be dangerous, Seth. That’s the nature of what we do. But we’re professionals. We can handle it.”

Seth’s eyes flashed with frustration. “Neither of us have been field operatives for a while now. It’s different this time. You’re not just a pawn in some larger game—you’re the target. And I’m not willing to put you at risk just because we think we’re close to something.”

Hope felt a spark of irritation. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, Seth. I know what I’m doing. We’ve got his attention, and we need to use that to our advantage.”

“You’re missing the point,” Seth said, his voice low and controlled, though she could hear the underlying tension. “This isn’t just about the mission anymore. If you become too important to him, if he decides he wants you for something more than just a club scene, we could lose control of the situation.”

Hope stared at him, disbelief and frustration warring within her. “You’re overreacting,” she said, her tone dismissive. “We’ve both faced worse than this, and we’ve had people lose their lives because of the mole at Cerberus. We need to get this bastard.”

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