Page 92 of The Thing About My Rival

She sighs. “This whole job situation was weird and confusing enough to start with. But now…with this…” She points from her chest to mine, her finger brushing my T-shirt. “It’s so hard to know what to believe. Or what’s real.”

I reach around her waist and ease her toward me,leaving space for her to withdraw if she wants to. She doesn’t.

We both take half a step forward until we’re one deep breath from our chests touching.

Her eyes wander over my face. Whatever she’s searching for, I hope I’m the answer.

I slide my fingers from her temple to her jaw and she gives way beneath my touch, letting her head fall forward onto my chest. I would gladly be this woman’s leaning post any time she needs support.

“Oh, Hugo.” Her words drift out gently on a sigh.

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and drop my face into her hair, inhaling that familiar zesty scent. “Does that mean you’re giving in to my irresistible charms? Or that you find me as frustrating as hell? Or that you don’t know what on earth to do?”

“All of the above.” Her breath is warm through the fabric of my T-shirt.

“I have a suggestion.” With a mind of their own, my hands drift down her back and come to rest on her butt, pulling her hips toward mine.

“How about you come home with me?It’s more comfortable than the pub. I have a bed and everything.” There’s no way she didn’t just feel Mr. Happy twitch.

She says nothing, but slips her arms around my waist. That has to be a good sign.

“So, what do you say, Wilcox?” I slide a hand up her side, grazing the curve of her breast, and tip her beautiful face up to look at me. Instantly I tumble headfirst into those green eyes, like they’re a bottomless pit I could get lost in forever. “Fancy a sleepover?”

She says nothing but nods slowly as her lips curl up at the corners.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

HUGO

“Wow, this is big.” Wilcox’s eyes are everywhere as she strolls into my huge living room.

“I hope that’s not the only time you’ll say that tonight.”

She looks back over her shoulder and rolls her eyes at me as she heads toward the wall of windows while running her fingers along the back of the sofa. My skin tingles at the thought of them running over me instead.

Kicking off my shoes, I drop my keys on the table just inside the front door and follow her.

The sun is low now. The sky over the Common, where we just were, is streaked with red and orange.

Stepping up behind her, I loop my arms around her waist and rest my cheek against the side of her head. “The sunset glowing around you makes you look like you’re some sort of perfect creature sent from another planet.”

She rests her hands on my forearms, which sit across her belly. “Oh, I’m certain I’m far from perfect.”

“Okay then, tell me one thing you’ve done that makes you a bad person.”

“I can tell you one thing I’ve done that would makeyouthink I’m a bad person.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I make an exaggerated effort to sound hurt but allow my lips to be drawn to her temple.

Man alive, the taste of her skin, combined with her citrus scent, makes my mouth water and my cock shift.

“When I worked for Dijon, I was standing close to the sideline where one of our defenders was trying to tackle a Le Havre player.”

Having obviously felt what’s going on in my pants, she nuzzles her butt back against me. Holy shit this woman drives me crazy.

“The ball went over the line,” she continues, “and the ref called it as a throw-in for us.”

I drag my lips down the side of her cheek to her jaw. “So?”

---