Page 52 of Play for Keeps

Know him well enough to understand that his ease was a momentary thing. The man was a born competitor. He wanted her attention, but she wasn’t about to run to him whenever he called.

Her pulse jumped at the thought, but her mind was racing about ten steps ahead. She’d have to watch herself. Falling for the guy would be too damn easy.

Though she hadn’t planned on a simple one-night stand, carrying on with Ty for any extended period of time was out of the question. This was why she wasn’t answering her phone. If she did, he’d want to see her. And if he wanted to see her, she’d say yes, because she wanted to see him every bit as badly. Wanted to be with him enough to stay the night in his bed or even wedge him into hers, though his feet would poke through the iron bedstead she’d unearthed at a flea market years before.

She could have him here. All she had to do was hit the redial and say, “Come over,” and he’d come. She knew he would. And so would she. Over and over again. And before she knew what was happening, they’d blow through his box of condoms. Too fast. Far too fast. And then their affair would be over.

Water bottle clutched to her chest, Millie wandered out of the kitchen, her mind clicking through scenarios and discarding them with every step. She needed to come up with an alternative plan. One that would involve a minimum of condom usage but still leave all barriers to emotional entanglement in place.

The shopping bags on the floor caught her eye, and a plan started to form. She snatched the bags from the floor and started toward her bedroom. Millie smiled as she dumped the lot onto her bed and yanked the book of erotica out of the sack. Kicking the rest of her purchases aside, she propped herself against the headboard and started to skim. His stint in Reno proved a safe distance could make a world of difference. With the right material, they could both be in the same town, enjoy a highly satisfactory sexual relationship without any messy entanglements, and hopefully circumvent a run on the latex industry. She read until she hit a passage that made her cross one leg over the other, thumbed the button to recall the last number, and lifted the phone to her ear.

He answered, and her mouth curved into an involuntary smile. At the same time, her heart started to race, but her blood slowed, arousal flowing like warm honey through her veins. “Hello, Ty. Were you looking for me?”

His chuckle unleashed a ripple of gooseflesh. “I figured you’d get back to me sooner or later.”

Sliding down into her pillows, she set the book aside and cradled the phone. “You settled in for the night?”

“I’m at your beck and call.”

Millie grinned, knowing if she let him in the door, they’d be going toe-to-toe for control. “Get comfortable, big guy. I’m going to read you a bedtime story.”

Chapter 13

Ty’s laughter trailed off as the silence on Millie’s end drew taut. She was waiting for his response, but he had no idea how he was supposed to react. Every nerve ending in his body went on high alert when the phone rang. But her mention of a bedtime story made the jumpy little buggers stand down.

Ty eyed the glass he’d pulled off a shelf and the decanter of scotch he’d unstoppered. A bedtime story? What about some bed time? Was she saying she wouldn’t see him? The thought was enough to spur him into lifting the cut-glass bottle and tipping a couple of slugs into the glass.

Had he spent the whole day drowning in nothing but wishful thinking?

Given how things went the night before, he figured she might be a little wary, but he never anticipated not seeing her. His ego wouldn’t let him believe she didn’t want to see him. She was into him. He knew that as sure as he knew the pattern of his hook shot.

She’d said she was going lingerie shopping. He might not be any expert on female behavior, but he’d been married long enough to know some women kept a whole hierarchy of bras and panties stashed away. Certain bits and pieces for everyday wear, another whole category dedicated to special circumstances like jogging or strapless dresses, and finally, the ones designed to make someone sit up and howl.

Millie wanted him. He was sure she did. The problem was, she seemed to want him only on her terms. Too bad he had no earthly idea what those terms were. She was using her no-nonsense voice. The one she used with nagging reporters and other pesky annoyances. It galled him to hear it. The last thing he wanted was to be another necessary evil in her world.

“Did I lose you?” she asked, her voice sultry and teasing.

Perhaps he was overthinking things. She might not be rejecting him. This tease about a bedtime story might be a ploy to get the upper hand. Which he’d give her gladly, as long as he could get his hands on her. He weighed and discarded a couple of possible moves she might be setting up and chose the obvious option. Home-court advantage. She probably wanted him to come over to her place. “How about I come over and get settled in?”

“Not tonight.”

Her answer was short and delivered with a quiet firmness that marked the decision as final. But he wasn’t one to give up without hurling one last miracle shot at the goal. “Why not? I could pick up ice cream. We could eat it in bed.”

Millie hummed appreciatively. “Ooh, ice cream. Tempting, but no. Not tonight,” she repeated.

This time, he caught a ragged edge of impatience in her voice, so he eased up. Taking the tumbler of scotch from the bar, he crossed the room to the oversized chair positioned directly in front of the television. The screen glowed in the darkened room. He dropped into the seat like his ass was weighted down with concrete and took a gulp of his drink.

Fire ran down his throat. He gripped the glass tightly. A growl of disgust rose in his chest when Greg Chambers’s stupid, smug face filled the center of the screen. Without even looking, he jabbed the power button with his index finger and smacked his lips as the room sank into further darkness. “Why not tonight?”

Millie didn’t miss a beat. “I like the anticipation.”

Well, hell. How was a guy supposed to argue with that kind of logic? “Do you?”

“Oh yeah.”

Her voice was rich and deep. Each syllable crashed over him like an ocean wave. Drawing a bracing breath, he let his arm swing down. He set the glass on the floor beside the chair, then carefully placed his hand on his leg. “Okay, fine. Tell me this bedtime story of yours.”

“You comfy?”

---