Page 39 of Playing with Desire

Another reason she’d spent the day packing was to keep busy so she didn’t overthink what had happened at The Players Club last night. But as she took a bite of cheese wrapped in a slice of turkey, those memories came flooding back—starting with Rick intercepting Mitchell as they’d walked out of the lounge together. Up to that point, she’d had mixed feelings about playing with the other man, who she didn’t know at all, but she’d been determined to try. However, deep inside, she’d been relieved by Rick’s intervention, even if she’d been defiant about his possessive demeanor.

But when it came right down to it, Rick was familiar. A man she’d already been intimate with and trusted, which had allowed her to give in to that mental retreat she’d needed so badly. He’d delivered equal parts pain and pleasure and orgasms so intense that she’d been overwhelmed by an influx of adrenaline and endorphins, along with a feeling of unending bliss that had been a lovely escape from the heartache she’d endured for months.

But in the aftermath, when Rick had taken off her restraints and carried her to the nearby bed after her three mind-blowing orgasms had wiped her out, that euphoric floating feeling had gradually dissipated, leaving behind a different, unexpected cache of emotions that seemed to crash over her like a tidal wave.

Cuddled up against Rick on his lap with him soothing her with gentle caresses as she came down from her high, she’d abruptly burst into tears in uncontrollable, embarrassing sobs that felt ripped from the depths of her soul. She bawled against his chest until her throat felt raw, she was gasping for breath, and she had snot bubbles coming from her nose—which Rick gave her a few tissues for.

The entire time, Rick remained composed and didn’t panic during her emotional breakdown. Instead, he rocked her in his arms and murmured soothing words to her, as if he knew she needed this cathartic release and it had to run its cycle—and he was there for her every single moment. When her ugly crying jag was finally over, she fell asleep against him in utter exhaustion, and when she stirred a few hours later and tentatively glanced up at him, his eyes were filled with kindness and understanding. He’d merely brushed her hair away from her face with gentle fingers and asked if she felt better.

Shockingly, she’d felt less burdened and realized that Rick had given her exactly what she’d needed. Today, she felt calmer and less resentful. More focused and stable. More intent on looking toward the future.

It was a nice place to be after months of emotional upheaval.

Finishing off the last of her sliced apple, she took her plate to the kitchen, washed it off, and set it on the drying rack. She’d just finished wiping her hands on a terry towel when someone knocked on her apartment door. Not expecting any visitors, she glanced through the peephole and was surprised to find Rick standing on the other side.

She unlocked and opened the door, not sure what to make of his pensive expression or his usually neatly styled hair that was tousled around his head, as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. While they’d parted ways amicably last night and with no awkwardness between them, she didn’t expect to see him today.

“Hey, come on in,” she said in a light tone as she stepped back to give him room to enter.

He walked inside, giving her small place a curious glance since he’d never been there before, then met her gaze again. “Before you ask, I got your address from Paige.”

“Yeah, I was wondering,” she murmured and got right to the point of his visit. “What brings you by?”

He exhaled a deep breath, a flash of concern etching his features as his eyes searched her face. “Last night was... intense, to say the least, and I just wanted to check in on you to make sure you were all right.”

She arched a brow and folded her arms over her chest and the army T-shirt of Declan’s she’d chosen to wear this morning. “You could have easily called or texted.”

“I know I could have,” he replied, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “But to be honest, after everything that happened, I needed to see for myself that you’re okay.”

“Well, my ass has certainly felt better,” she said with a laugh.

He smirked. “So, you learned your lesson then,” he said, teasing her before growing somber once more. “But more seriously, how are you, emotionally?”

She appreciated him asking, considering he’d been her rock while she’d fallen apart and bawled against his chest. “Actually, I’m good. Better. I’m going to be fine. I promise,” she said, believing her own words. Today, she felt stronger, more determined and confident.

“And what about us?” he asked. “Are we good?”

She heard the worry in his voice and didn’t hesitate to reassure him. “Yes, we’re both good. What happened at The Players Club stays at The Players Club,” she said playfully. While she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong the previous evening, she also realized that being with Rick hadn’t alleviated her feelings for Declan. For her, being with Rick had been a one-night deal because she wasn’t looking to hurt him or lead him on in any way.

He nodded, his relief palpable as he glanced around her apartment again and the cartons all over the place. “What’s going on with all the boxes?”

She sighed and looked in the same direction. “I’m moving. I have to be out of here in two weeks when my lease is up. Problem is, I haven’t found a new place yet.” She’d even scoured apartment sites on the internet early this morning, but still nothing in her price range.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had to move when we had dinner last week?”

Hearing the thread of chastisement in his voice, her brows rose and her mouth quirked with amusement. “Umm, I didn’t think I needed to.”

He was quiet for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to hers. “I can help.”

“As in, help me move?” she asked, confused.

The corner of his mouth quirked with a smile. “That, too, but I can also offer you a place to stay temporarily, until you find a place that fits your needs.”

She bit her bottom lip, appreciating the generous overture but not sure how smart it would be to accept his suggestion after their night together. One she didn’t intend to repeat.

He must have sensed her misgivings, because he quickly expanded on the proposal and his idea. “I understand that last night was an exception, and the offer doesn’t come with any strings attached or expectations,” he said, pacifying her concerns. “Except maybe you cooking an occasional dinner.”

She laughed at the hopeful note in his voice.