Tempting the Player (19 page)

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Authors: J. Lynn

Tags: #Category, #short romance, #love, #series, #Contemporary, #brazen, #Romance, #entangled

BOOK: Tempting the Player
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“I’m perfect—that was perfect.” She smiled, amazed she could still stand, though.

Chad looped his arms around her waist, and she saw something shift in his expression before he lowered his head, kissing her slowly. The kissing inevitably led to other things. A touch against her breast, between her thighs, and they kept kissing as he turned her around and lifted her onto the kitchen table. Pushing forward, he split her thighs and his kisses traveled all the way down. Bridget’s head fell back and her eyes closed as he did another thing he’d promised.

Chad worshipped her.

Sometime later, they ended up back in the bedroom, the wine forgotten and their limbs coated in sweat and tangled together.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, pressing his lips to her damp forehead.

Bridget’s chest spasmed as she snuggled closer. His arm around her waist tightened, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.

This was going to end badly, because she knew that when it came time to let him go, it was going to be the last thing she ever wanted to do. Every part of her was relaxed and deliciously sated, but her heart…oh, it was aching something fierce.

She took a deep breath and pushed the lump in her throat down. “Merry Christmas, Chad.”

Yeah, things were definitely complicated now.


Chad couldn’t remember having a better Christmas morning. He woke up with his arm around Bridget’s waist and his head buried in her hair. When he rolled her over, she smiled up at him sleepily and spread her thighs for him.

Fucking perfect.

He’d taken his time with her this morning, moving in her slowly, dragging the pleasure out for both of them. He wasn’t fucking or screwing her. He knew what he was doing.

The shower had been a different story.

Chad had bent her over and drove into her like he’d never had sex before. Being with her, being inside of her, was something he would never get tired of. He knew that in his soul.

Lots of laughter and sex later and some clothing, they made breakfast together while Pepsi sat by the stove, waiting for scraps to fall to the floor.

He didn’t know what it was about this whole setup, but he didn’t want to be anywhere than where he was. It was when she was cuddled against him on the couch that he did he remember what else Maddie had told him last night.

Brushing the riot of waves back from her face, he grinned when her lashes lifted and yearning shone through her eyes. His own sex came roaring to life in a nanosecond. “Very soon,” he promised both of them. “But first, there was something else that Maddie told me last night.”

Bridget sat up, tucking her hair back. Her brows knitted. “What?”

“She told me about your director and how he doesn’t want you to attend because of me. Look, I’m going to take—”

“Wait.” She held up a hand. “I’ll admit, I was pissed when the director pulled me out. I worked on that Gala all year, but there’s something I need to tell you before…well, before this goes any further. Okay?”

Chad sat back and nodded. An instant later, Pepsi jumped into his lap. “Okay.”

A shy smile pulled at her lips. “I wasn’t a big fan of pretending to be your girlfriend in the beginning.” She laughed self-consciously as she ran her fingers over the emerald. “Actually, I was pretty pissed about the whole thing, but it’s not like that anymore. I mean…” She trailed off, flushing. “God, I sound like an idiot.”

Chad tried to hide his smile. “What? You’re telling me you didn’t agree to do this to increase your dating pool?” he teased.

The flush spread down her throat. “Oh God, no, that’s not why I agreed.”

Admittedly curious why she had, he idly scratched Pepsi behind his ear. “Tell the truth, you always wanted to be my girlfriend.”

Bridget laughed so loud Pepsi lifted his head and flattened his ears. “No. That’s not it, either. Miss Gore… Well, in a way, I guess I have to thank her for her disturbing level of determination.”

His fingers stilled on Pepsi’s head. “What do you mean?”

“Miss Gore basically blackmailed me.” She reached over, scratching Pepsi’s paw. “She threatened to tell people that I was stalking you. She also found out I had been late on my student loans at some point and offered to pay off the debt. You’re at least worth fifty thousand, did you know that?” She laughed as Pepsi made bread on Chad’s thigh. “I say you’re worth more, but—”

“Wait,” he said, staring at her. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She offered to pay off your student loans to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Bridget nodded. “Yeah, can you believe that?”

Out of the reasons why he’d come up with, the fact that Bridget had been
paid
was not one of them. Shock rippled through him. He didn’t know what to feel. Angry? Disappointed? Disgusted?

Bridget was paid to be his girlfriend.

Just like the women that his father paid to be his girlfriend.

A short laugh escaped him as he stared at Bridget. “You know, maybe I was stupid for thinking the reason why you agreed to do this was because you liked me or that you wanted to make up for leaving my ass in the bathroom when we first met.”

Confusion poured into Bridget’s expression. “Yeah, that would be pretty stupid if you thought that.”

“Wow. Okay.” Chad picked up Pepsi and sat the very disgruntled cat on the sofa. He stood, hands shaking. “I hope you and Miss Gore are happy with your agreement.”

“What?” Bridget shot to her feet. “Chad, wait a second. You can’t be that mad.”

“I can’t be that mad?” He stared at her, incredulous. “Yeah, you know, I’ve done some pretty fucked-up stuff in my past and a lot of people probably don’t think I have a lot of standards, but I do. That’s the fucking limit for me. It’s disgusting.”

She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. After everything, he wasn’t even going to give her two seconds to explain she didn’t take the money? Was it that easy to believe she’d whore herself out? “Excuse me?”

“This is over.”

“Chad!” Bridget moved forward as if to block his escape, but one look from him had her thinking twice. She took a step back, blinking her eyes rapidly. “I don’t understand why you won’t hear my side.”

Chad wasn’t sure what he thought, but the truth had never crossed his mind. When money was involved, you could never trust the outcome or anyone’s actions.

Shaking his head, he headed for the door. “Your services are no longer needed. This shit is over. I’m done.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Bridget was still in a numb daze when she returned to work two days after Christmas. She had no idea how or why Chad had reacted as strongly as he did. She’d just wanted to have all their cards on the table, so to speak, if things had any hope of moving further…going beyond pretend. For a moment there, she’d really thought he wanted something real with her and she couldn’t go further without the truth between them.

During those two days, she went through every emotional stage and when anger finally showed its ugly head, she’d been grateful. Cussing Chad was better than burying her head in her tear-soaked pillows.

Had he really believed she’d just go out with him because he was that damn awesome? For fuck sake, his ego knew no limits.

But the anger didn’t hang around long, and she really shouldn’t have been surprised that she was going to work using a ton of concealer under her swollen eyes.

Her heart was broken, just ahead of schedule.

She turned her computer on and listlessly started checking her e-mails. Fifteen minutes later, Madison bounded into the office with a smile so huge Bridget had to wonder if she won the lottery over the break.

Or if Chase had proposed to her.

But Madison’s smile faded the moment she saw Bridget. “Oh no, what has happened?”

Bridget wasn’t sure if she should tell Madison now that she and Chad were broken up. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin his contract, so she opted for a lie. “I’m not feeling well.”

Madison stopped in front of her desk, a look of sympathy crossing her face. “You look like crap.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“But you need to feel better before the third because guess what?” Of course Madison didn’t wait for Bridget to guess. Not that she ever did. “Director Bernstein changed his mind. He wants you at the Gala.”

“What?” Bridget turned away from her computer. “But he didn’t want me—”

“I know, because of Chad, but he’s even okay if Chad comes.” Madison rocked back on her heels, happy as can be while Bridget’s heart cracked a little more. “At first I thought someone pulled the stick out of his ass, but then he shared even bigger news, which is why he’s in such a great mood.”

“What?” Viagra no longer posed heart attack risks?

Madison slapped her hands down on Bridget’s desk, rattling every item on it. “There was a
generous
donation that came in after Christmas.”

Despite her craptastic mood, hope swelled. “How generous?”

“Generous as in we have met our goal for the year!”

Bridget shot to her feet. “Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Madison jumped. “The department has their funding for the year, and there are still some donations expected to be made at the Gala!”

Rushing around the desk, Bridget joined Madison in the jumping and squealing celebration. Her mood most definitely approved upon hearing the good news, which helped get her through the day. There were only a few times the stuff with Chad overshadowed the good, but she kept telling herself at least she didn’t have to worry about finding a new job for another year.

It was when she returned home that evening and set Pepsi’s dinner on the table, she almost broke down again.

Tears never solved anything, but she wanted to cave to them. Right now, she had so much to look forward to, but it had lost a little of its luster.

A knock on her door had her heart stopping. Was it Chad? She’d called and texted him several times, wanting a chance to explain, to talk, to do something, but he hadn’t responded.

She rushed through the living room, catching her toe in the threadbare carpet, nearly face-planting into the floor. Catching herself at the last minute, she threw open the door. “Cha…oh, it’s you.”

Miss Gore arched a brow. “Nice to see you, too.”

Well, if she hadn’t felt like crawling into a hole before, now she did. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk.” She pushed her way into Bridget’s apartment. For someone so small, she was definitely strong. Turning around, Miss Gore placed her purse on the coffee table and folded her arms. “Can you tell me why I just got off the phone with a really pissy Chad, who just explained to me that the whole thing was off, ahead of schedule, and will not tell me why?”

Bridget’s shoulders slumped. “It’s over.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? We weren’t planning to break things off—”

“There isn’t any ‘we’ in this! And I don’t care if this messes up everything for you!” She stepped back, taking a deep breath. “Look, I want Chad to keep his contract and for everything to work out for him, but it’s over.”

Miss Gore watched her a moment and then sat down. “What happened?”

“Why do you think something happened?”

“Because you’re hurt,” she said, taking off her glasses. “I can tell. It’s in your eyes. So I imagine something happened. And we planned to call this off after New Year’s. And that is still a few days away.”

Bridget couldn’t even believe she was considering telling her the truth, but she sat down, shaking her head slowly. “I’m in love with him.”

Miss Gore sat back.

“And I think… Well, I thought he felt the same way.” Tears crawled up her throat. “But I screwed up. I told him the truth.”

“The truth about what?” she asked. “The student loans? Look, I know that’s a sore spot with you, obviously, but it’s not that big of a deal. I doubt Chad—“

“No.” Bridget sighed. “I told him why I agreed to do this.”

Miss Gore paled. “Oh, dear…”

“I told him that I hadn’t wanted to and that you basically blackmailed me.” She pursed her lips. “By the way, don’t think I’m not still pissed off by that. I am.”

She nodded. “Understandable. And he was mad?”

“Mad?” Bridget let out a short, humorless laugh that just sounded really sad. “He was beyond pissed. He walked right out.”

Miss Gore raised one brow. “Well, I imagine it doesn’t do wonders for a man’s ego, especially one of his size, to hear a woman agreed to be his girlfriend because she was blackmailed. Have you tried calling him?”

Pressing her lips together, Bridget nodded. The ball of ugh was in her throat and going nowhere. “I’ve called. I’ve texted. He hasn’t responded.”

Her brows puckered. Several moments passed. “I do believe he’s developed strong feelings for you—possibly even love.”

Bridget scowled. “What part of the conversation do you not understand? He left. He doesn’t want to see me. That’s not love.”

The publicist smiled. “The only reason why he’d be mad is because he has feelings. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have cared. The fact that he is upset proves that he has feelings.” She leaned forward, patting her hand. Bridget jerked back, but Miss Gore was nonplussed. “This is good—great. I couldn’t have dared to hope for a real relationship to come out of this, but this is perfect. People will be clamoring to hire me.”

“You’re insane,” Bridget said, staring at her.

“No. You just wait and see. He’ll come around.” She stood, smiling like she just had the best year at work. “You know, I was starting to suspect something.” She clapped her hands together. “You will end up thanking me for this.”

Bridget’s mouth dropped open. “Get out of my apartment.”

“I’m serious.” She picked up her purse. “In the end, you’ll invite me to the wedding, and you’ll thank me in the toast.”

In total shock, Bridget did the same thing she had done the first time Miss Gore visited her apartment.

Bridget flipped her off.

With both hands.


Chad was in a funk or, how his brothers put it, PMSing. He hadn’t told them what went down between him and Bridget. It wasn’t any of their business.

His feet pounded on the treadmill. He’d been running for the last hour. Sweat poured from him. Every night since he discovered the truth behind why Bridget had readily agreed to be his pretend girlfriend, he’d spent more hours on the treadmill than he cared to count.

Muscles burned an unholy fire, but it was better than the cold cavern in his chest. It was better than sitting in front of the TV not really paying attention to the screen. And it was far better than lying in bed staring at his ceiling, wondering how in the fuck he had misjudged Bridget so badly.

He slowed down and then smacked the stop button. He got off the treadmill and ripped the towel from the arm and started mopping up his sweat.

Then again, how fucking stupid was he that he really thought she’d go along with this just because of
who
he was? Even he could admit that his ego had surpassed all of his brothers’ combined—and his father’s.

Maybe he could one day understand why she did it, but he could never get past it. Not when his father did shit like that, buying his “girlfriends” jewels, cars, paying off debt, and furnishing their apartments while his mother doped herself into an early grave.

And what the hell was he thinking, anyway? Him in a relationship—one that had started off by two people pretending to be in love? Shit, he was worse than his father when it came to his track record with women.

Fuck.

But he missed Bridget’s smile—her laugh. He missed how she always smelled of jasmine and the way she felt against him. He missed the blush that always popped up on her face and traveled down her neck.

Chad missed the witty comebacks and the way she was okay when things were quiet. He missed her asking about his day and hating the paparazzi and the way she never let him get away with anything. He even missed that fat-ass cat of hers.

He just fucking missed her.

Dropping the towel, he then ran his hands down his face. Avoiding the calls had been hard enough, but not reaching out to her had been a real effort. He was about to hop in the shower when he heard a knock on the front door. Figuring it was one of his brothers trying to drag him out for New Year’s and ignoring the rush of excitement at the thought it might be Bridget, he answered the door.

It was worse.

“Miss Gore.” He drew her name out, the way he knew she hated. “What did I do to earn this pleasure?”

She scowled as her gaze drifted over him. “Do you ever wear a shirt when you’re home?”

“No. If you have a problem, see you—”

She put her hand up, stopping his attempt to close the door in her face. “I wouldn’t have to be coming here if you would answer your phone and stop acting like a general ass.”

Chad closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Like I said in the last phone call, I don’t need your services anymore. You did your job. Congrats and thank you. Now please get the hell out of my life.”

Miss Gore pushed past him, went into his kitchen, and hopped up on the bar stool and crossed her legs. “I’m still your publicist until the Nationals decide my services are no longer needed.”

“Great,” he muttered.

“And you do need me.”

Chad grabbed a bottle of water and propped his hip against the counter. “You’re the last person I need.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “You need Bridget.”

A sharp pain hit him in the gut. “I stand corrected. She’s the last person I need.”

“Really?” she replied. “Then if she was the last person you needed, why did you sleep with her?”

Chad swore under his breath. “I’m not talking—”

“Oh, you’ll talk to me, all right.” Miss Gore spun on the stool, tracking his movements. “You shouldn’t have slept with her if you were going to turn around and walk out!”

“Why are you upset? You set this whole damn thing up!” Chad was dumbfounded. “What did you think was going to happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Miss Gore folded her arms. “That you actually got over yourself? So what? She didn’t want to date you in the beginning—she needed a little push.”

Chad was about to throw this woman out of his apartment. “You blackmailed her into being with me.”

“I didn’t blackmail her into sleeping with you, you big dumbass!”

“Yeah, you’re paying her to do so.” Chad smirked. “Big fucking difference there.”

“What?” Miss Gore sat back and let out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“First off, I don’t think any of this is funny and secondly—”

“Yes. You’re an idiot.” Miss Gore shot to her feet, planting her hands on her hips. “Let me guess. Bridget started explaining to you why she agreed to do this, but you heard only what your sensitive male ears wanted to hear and jumped to conclusions? Because I didn’t pay Bridget a dime for doing this.”
“That’s not—”

“I did offer to pay her—to pay off her student loans, to be exact. I thought that would be a better incentive,” Miss Gore said. “And after dealing with you for less than a month, I figured we needed to pay the poor girl.”

Wow. Chad set the bottle down. “Well, that’s unnecessary.”

“But Bridget refused the money, which forced me to take more drastic steps. Trust me, I’m not proud of what I did, but Bridget has done nothing wrong. I gave her no choice in this.”

Chad thrust his fingers through his hair and turned, breathing in deeply. “She turned down the money?”

“Yes.”

“And you forced her to do this?”

“Yes,” she replied. “But whatever happened between you had nothing to do with me. That was all you two.”

Chad closed his eyes as a rush of mixed-up emotions hammered inside him. He didn’t know what to think. Relief poured through him, but so did anger—mostly at himself. Miss Gore was right. His overinflated ego had gotten the best of him.

“It’s not too late.”

He faced her. “Yeah, I think it’s too late.”

“Why?”

“How can anything come from a relationship that started off because someone was forced into it?”

Miss Gore threw her hands up. “Look, you’ve spent your whole life never accepting responsibility for anything you do. It’s always everyone else’s fault. But here is the one chance for you to realize you had something to do with this. And do I need to remind you that you had a relationship with her before I stepped in? I just helped it along.”

“Helped it?”

She nodded, smiling. “Do you love her?”

“I…”

“It’s an easy question, Chad. Do you love her?”

The answer was easy. His heart already knew what his mouth didn’t want to say. For some reason, he thought about the damn playground, saw his life going round and round but never really ending up anywhere—or with anyone. It was time to get off the merry-go-round.

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