Page 18 of The Player (Close Quarters 5)

“I’velistenedto you,” she says, her voice a harsh whisper. “I’ve heard you bring women home and I’ve heard you in the shower, by yourself. I know what you sound like when you come.”

Her cheeks are bright red, and I get the urge to point out that she’s about to match her wig. But I figure now is probably not the time to poke the bear.

“It’s just sex, Emery. It’s not a big deal.” At least to me, it’s not. I don’t know why people make such a big song and dance about it all. Humans have been fucking since we were swanning around in cheetah-skin loincloths, carrying clubs and hunting animals down one meal at a time. “We don’t ever have to speak of this again.”

She looks at me warily. “You didn’t know it was me this whole time?”

“What? No, of course not.” My reaction is strong enough that she winces. Oops. “I mean, not because I don’t find you attractive or anything. Clearly, I do, but...”

She gnaws on her lip. “But?”

“Well, let’s say our relationship is a little more antagonistic than I’m used to.”

She snorts. “You mean most people love you.”

“Well...yeah.” It’s not a lie. I have an army of friends, because winning people over is my job. Selling to people is my job. “You’re the only one who seems to think I’m this despicable creature whose only purpose in life is to annoy you.”

I’m not going to say she’s hurt my feelings, because that would require me to care about her opinion more than I do. But it’s surprising. And intriguing.

The memory of her taking my cock into her mouth flashes through me like lightning, and I find myself stirring.

I’m going to need to do something about that.

“And why do you think that is?” she asks, arms folded across her chest.

“Unresolved sexual tension.”

“Ofcourse, you would think that.” She rolls her eyes. “How do you have enough room in that costume for your bodyandyour ego?”

“You know what’s taking up the bulk of the room in this costume.” The words shoot out of me before I can stop them. There’s something about Emery that makes my mouth run and my fingers twitch. She sets me on edge.

“It was average, at best.” Her eyes don’t meet mine.

I stalk over to her, forcing her to look at me. She wants to push my buttons? Fine. Two can play at that game. “Bullshit.”

“Can’t stand the thought of being average, Rowan?” She tips her nose up at me.

“I just can’t imagine a woman salivating over an average cock the way you salivated over mine.” I keep my voice low, steady. Slow. The drawl gets to her, and I can see tension ticking under her skin, tightening her mouth and her fists. “Unless you have low standards.”

I’m pretty sure she’s about to tell me to go fuck myself, but then she thinks better of it. We both know I’ll just be waiting for her to say that so I can melt her with a comeback.

“You’re unbelievable.” She glares at me.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Ugh.” Emery throws her hands in the air and storms past me toward the door. But then she pauses, her hand wrapped around the handle and I try so damn hard not to think about the way her hand was wrapped around me moments ago. “You’re right about one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“We don’t have to speak about this ever again.” And with that, she walks out of the room and lets the door swing shut behind her.

I’m left standing there, dick pulsing in frustration, head pounding in solidarity, and the only thing I can think about is how in the hell I’m going to be able to shower tonight, knowing she’s listening on the other side of the wall.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Emery

ITHROWMYSELFinto work for the rest of GameCon as a means for forgetting what I’d done. I might have been all bluster in the interview room, pointing the finger at Rowan. Let’s call that a defensive reflex. ButIplayed a huge part in what happened.

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