Page 30 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“Wait. Hold up.” I touch her shoulder, and she pulls back.
In the shadowy bedroom, I can only just make out Aspen’s eyes. They’re hazy with desire, and her full, plush mouth is begging to be kissed.
Think, Braun. You can’t do this.
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“I know,” she says, running her hands over the muscles in my chest. “That’s why I want to.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I groan out her name as her hands move over my bare skin.
“We should have sex,” Aspen whispers, her hot mouth pressed against my neck.
“We can’t,” I hear myself saying. Thank God. Because believe me, I want to nail her so damn hard. “You’re drunk.”
She lifts to her knees until we’re eye to eye. “And if I wasn’t?”
The weight of her ass is no longer pressed into my groin, but I still can’t think straight for the life of me.
I scratch at the stubble on my jaw. The woman has a point. I inhale, fighting to get my libido under control. “What was all that stuff about nothing can happen between us?”
Aspen shrugs. “I don’t know. Me being too . . . stuck up?”
I want to ask her what changed, but it’s pointless. I’ve felt the growing attraction between us for days. Obviously, she has too, and now it seems she can no longer ignore it.
She moves from my lap to sit beside me. I reach under the blanket to adjust the growing situation in my boxers, and Aspen’s mouth twitches with a knowing smile.
“For the record, I don’t think this is a good idea. We’re both coming off a bad breakup.”
“Exactly.” She nods. “Maybe a rebound fling is exactly what I need. We have the summer.” Her nose scrunches. “Actually, we only have like twenty-four days left. We’re here alone, away from the rest of the world, away from any distractions. We might as well make good use of the time.”
I release a slow, strained exhale. “You make a damn convincing argument. But how about we wait and see how you feel in the morning?”
She gives me a crooked smile. “You suck, Braun.”
“Believe me, I know.” I chuckle darkly.
When she climbs from my bed, I do the gentlemanly thing and walk her back to her room, waiting by the door as she climbs into bed.
“Happy birthday, Aspen.”
“Good night, party pooper,” she says with a yawn.
When I get back in bed, I’m still as hard as a fence post in my boxers, and I know that trying to get to sleep is going to be nearly impossible. Maybe I’ll have some interesting dreams tonight, where my restraint won’t be quite so strong.
A man can hope.
• • •
The next morning I’m awoken by some bad news. The credit goes to a phone call from my lawyer bright and early. Apparently, a woman I met at a club last year is suing me for sexual harassment. I wish I was kidding.
After I pull on my sweatpants, I make my way downstairs and brew some coffee. I take my mug outside and call my agent. Aspen’s still asleep, and I wouldn’t want her to overhear this conversation anyway.
“What the hell do you mean they might drop me? It’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I all but shout into the phone. “Do your fucking job.”
My agent, Kyle, clears his throat.
After I filled him in on the charges, he informed me that my most lucrative sponsorship deal, one with Canada’s largest sporting goods retailer, Rush Sports, might not wait for the dust to settle on this thing, or for the truth to come out. They might just decide I’m not worth the drama and negative press and drop me, rendering the million-dollar deal we’ve signed as useless as single-ply toilet paper.
It doesn’t matter that the accusations about me aren’t true. As usual, I’m guilty until I prove my innocence.
“This is such bullshit,” I grumble, shaking my head as my mood plummets.
Yes, I met this woman at a club last season, and I talked with her and her friend for a few minutes. I got the feeling she was interested in more, but I wasn’t up for company that night.
That’s the whole story. The absolute truth.
But she claims I promised her playoff tickets in exchange for sex, and then pressured her. I definitely didn’t do that. But it’s her word against mine, and with my reputation last season, people are probably going to believe her.
“We didn’t even make the playoffs. Why would I promise someone tickets to something that didn’t happen?”
“I know, Braun, calm down.”
Calm down? Easy for him to say. Kyle’s name isn’t about to be trashed in the media. Eden will have my nuts if I bring more bad press to the team. Fuck.
“Breathe, Alex. I’m going to call your attorney when we hang up. See what we might be able to come up with. Maybe there’s a creative solution.”
