Play With Me (With Me in Seattle #3)
by Kristen Proby
Will Montgomery is a successful professional football player and seemingly has it all. He’s not used to being told no, and certainly doesn’t take no for an answer. So when he turns his charms on his sister’s sexy rocker-chick friend Meg, he’s not only turned down, but met with open hostility, piquing his curiosity and libido. He’s determined to show her that he’s not the arrogant jock she thinks he is, and to get her into his bed.
Megan McBride is not impressed with Will Montgomery, his fat contract, fancy car, or his arrogant public persona. She doesn’t have time for a relationship, and if she’s learned anything in life, it’s that loving means losing, so she guards her heart ferociously. But she can’t deny the overwhelming attraction to the sexy, tattooed athlete, and when Will starts breaking down her defenses and grabs hold of her heart, will she be able to admit her feelings for him, or will her troubled past cause her to lose the first man she’s ever truly loved?
“I want to show you something,” Will says out of the blue. We’re in his car, having finished our burgers at Red Mill, the same place where we first met that day when I ran into him and Jules.
“Well, you shared a really important part of yourself with me today.”
It thrills me that he understands how important music is to me. I smile at him and wait for him to continue.
“So, I want to share something important to me with you.”
“I’m game,” I reply happily.
“Ironic choice of words.” Will chuckles and merges onto Interstate 5 heading south into the city center. I sit back into the plush leather seat and enjoy the ride in this sexy car of his. God, I love this car. It turns me on, big time.
I look over at Will and lick my lips.
He glances my way and then does a double take and gives me a confused smile.
“Your car is sexy.”
“Are we back at this again?” he asks and laughs as he changes lanes.
“You look sexy as hell in this car.” I turn in my seat and face him.
His eyes find mine again. “This is only the second date.”
As if I need a reminder.
“You keep fucking me with your eyes like that…”
“And what?” I interrupt him. “You had me naked and coming on my couch last night and didn’t break the rule. I doubt me eye-fucking you will make you break it either.”
“Jesus, keep talking like that, honey, and see how fast I break your rule. You have quite the dirty mouth you know.”
“I know.” I shrug and laugh. “I went to college with Jules and Natalie. Have you heard them talk lately?”
Will smirks and takes an exit off the freeway.
“Besides,” I continue. “I hung out with a band full of guys. I was never destined to have a clean mouth.”
Suddenly it occurs to me that maybe my language offends him.
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
“Does what bother me?” he asks and pulls into a private underground parking lot under the football stadium.
“Your mouth is delicious.”
“My language, smart ass,” I mutter and smack his arm.
“Ouch! You like it rough, sweetheart?” He offers me a wolfish smile and I laugh.
This gives him pause. He parks the car, shuts it off and stares at me. “Seriously.”
“Sure.” I shrug. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He just stares at me, his mouth agape. I rub his thigh gently with my fingertips.
“Yeah?” He comes out of his trance and swallows.
“Does my language offend you?”
“No.” He shakes his head and frowns. “You’re not nearly as bad as Jules.”
“Few are, Will.” I laugh and climb out of his sexy car. He waits for me, takes my hand, and leads me to an elevator.
“So, obviously, we’re at the football playing place,” I comment casually in the elevator.
“Football playing place?” Will asks and doubles over in laughter.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do you know anything about football?” he asks, delighted with me, and I glare at him.
“Of course I do.”
“What position do I play?” he asks.
“Is this a quiz?”
“A little one.”
“You’re the quarterback.”
“Who do I throw the ball to?” He ushers me out of the elevator and then leans against a wall and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Another guy in a Seahawks uniform.” I respond confidently. “Usually,” I add, earning a glare from him.
“I’m going to torture you for that.”
“I hope so, babe.” I grin at him.
About Kristen Proby
Kristen Proby has made a living as a massage therapist, a medical biller, a registrar in an Emergency Room, and a professional photographer. But what feeds her soul is writing romantic, erotic love stories about strong women who don’t necessarily need saving, and gorgeous, alpha-type men who want to save them anyway.
Kristen lives in the amazing Pacific Northwest where, conveniently, her muse lives too.
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