Page 82 of Playmaker

I didn’t join him.

He smirked. “Oh, is that it? You want to become Mrs. Cooper? He must be bringing in the cash—maybe you’d like to do something a little easier than tax for the rest of your life?”

I imagined slapping his ridiculous face, and it was incredibly satisfying. It had been years since I’d had those urges. This wedding was bringing them out. But again, I let the insult go. I couldn’t imagine it helping Cooper, and I kept my eye on the prize. I didn’t need to antagonize these people who knew the firm I worked for. They might have influence. “I enjoy my work, and I’m not looking for anyone to support me. But since personal questions are so popular, what about you? Looking to marry someone with a lot of money and spend your time on the golf course?”

He didn’t fall for the diversion. “You’re protective of him.”

“I said he was a friend. I don’t call many people that, and I don’t take friendship lightly.”

“Maybe you should open up to the possibilities of more friendships. They might benefit you.” His eyes were on my breasts again and I knew exactly what kind of friendship he was talking about.

“I keep business and my personal life separate. My friends aren’t part of my work life, and my colleagues aren’t friends. It helps to keep the lines clear.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, holding it out to me. “If you change your mind, here’s how to contact me.”

I really didn’t want to take his card, but it would only antagonize him to refuse. I didn’t get one of my cards out though. I didn’t want this man to reach out to me, even for tax advice. I had Benson in my day-to-day life and that was more than enough.

The dinner after the rehearsal was more of the same. I wasn’t sitting with Cooper, again, but neither was I with Pierce or Winthrop so I called it a win. I made laborious conversation with a brother of the groom, a guy who only became animated when he could talk about sailing, and noticed the tension in Cooper’s jaw as he was talked at by…an uncle? Cousin? Some stuffy relation. Like last night.

On the way back to the hotel, I made a suggestion. “Perhaps sex would help you relax?”

He flashed a glance at me. “I’m happy with a repeat, but thought I’d have to convince you. I got through my family’s bullshit by making up a pitch.”

I shrugged. “Good thing you weren’t a disappointment last night.”

He laughed, and some of that tension left his expression.

We were quiet again on the way up to the suite. When we got there, I happily slid my feet out of the expensive shoes and sighed.

“Want a drink?” Cooper asked.

“Water would be great.”

Cooper walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge. He passed me one, taking one for himself. Then he leaned over the island and studied me. “Want to hear the sales pitch?”

“Sure. Pitch me.”

“You don’t like losing control. Now, good sex kind of demands losing it, but what if we do this in a way that you have control over me?”

I was intrigued. “How did you imagine that taking place?”

His lips curved up in a dirty grin. “Oh, I imagined a lot of possibilities.”

I shivered, because now I was coming up with some porn-worthy ideas of my own.

“I narrowed it down to something within the bounds of practicality.”

I didn’t put Cooper and sex together in any way that was practical, but I was definitely interested.

“I don’t have any handcuffs or ropes—” He straightened. “But I could sacrifice a tie or two to the cause.”

It took me a minute. “You mean, to tie you up?”

He held up his hand. “Don’t get too excited there. I’m not leaving myself completely at your mercy. But if my hands were tied up, and I lay on the bed while you ran the show…would that give you enough control to enjoy yourself without regretting anything later?”

I sucked in a breath. The man saw too much of me. The wise course would be to stop this before he learned any more. But while we were here, in a different country, teaming up against his family, I could pretend this was an anomaly. Not part of my regular life. And thinking of it, that incredible body laid out on his bed, naked, hands tied and me in control? Too damned bad if it was risky, I wanted it. Enough that my hands were trembling with desire. I wanted it and I was going to take it. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t move. “That’s a yes?”

---