Tempting the Player (8 page)

Maddie broke free and gave Chad a quick hug. “Don’t be a stranger, rock star.”

He squeezed her back and then patted her on the head, knowing how much she hated that. “See you later, midget.”

Through the good-byes, he hadn’t taken his eyes off Bridget. She was inching away, a bright and false smile plastered on her face as she clasped the handle of her purse in front of her like some kind of shield.

When Chase and Maddie turned to head back toward the Mall, Chad slipped up behind Bridget, wrapping his hand around her arm in a gentle but firm grip. She stopped, and her eyes shot wide. Before she could open her mouth, Chad cut in.

“Hey Maddie, I’m going to keep your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

Maddie looked over her shoulder, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if I want to leave her with you.”

Taking that good-naturedly, he grinned. “I promise I’ll return her just as she was.”

She glanced at Bridget, who gave a resigned sigh and nodded. Maddie smiled—the kind of smile that Chad knew all too well. Poor Bridget was going to have a field day when she got back to the office.

“Take your time,” Maddie called, and then turned back around, looping her arm through Chase’s.

Chad watched them stroll down the ever-busy Constitution Avenue. “They make such a cute couple, don’t they?”

Bridget stepped back under the awning of a closed arts dealer shop, and he followed, keeping his hand on her arm. She blinked several times, those crazy-long lashes fanning her flushed cheeks. Damn. He’d remembered her because he couldn’t forget her, but his memories hadn’t done her justice.

She drew in a deep breath. “Look, I really need to get—”

Lowering his head so their faces were mere inches apart, he enjoyed the soft intake of breath. “Did you really think you were going to escape me twice, Bridget?”

Chapter Eight

Never in her life had she suffered through a more awkward lunch, and there was no end in sight. Did she plan on escaping Chad again? Well, yes. Was it working?

Her gaze dropped to where his large hand practically swallowed her arm. She could feel the heat rolling off his powerfully coiled body as if she were basking in the sun instead of standing in chilly wind.

Nope. Her plans for escape sure weren’t working.

“Bridget?”

She raised her eyes, meeting the deep blue hue of his. The feral, possessive look in his stare made her hot and shivery. Having seen that look in his eyes before, she wetted her lips. “So, you remember me?”

“Remember you?” he repeated, brows lowering. God, he was good-looking. As much as she hated to think it, there was no doubt in her mind he would end up on
People
’s list again this year. “How could I forget you?”

Her heart tripped over itself and her mouth dried. “Then why did you act like you didn’t know who I was?” she accused.

“Why did you say we only met briefly and it wasn’t a big deal?”

Bridget bristled. “It wasn’t like I was going to say, ‘Oh, I met him at a club rumored to be a
sex club.
’ That’s kind of private, you know. Anyway, I’m sure there are a lot of women you’ve met at that club, so why would I think I would’ve stuck out to you?”

Letting go of her arm but not moving away, he placed a hand against the brick wall beside her head. She wondered what they looked like to people passing by. It would only be a matter of time before someone recognized him.

“There’s only one person who made a daring escape before the real fun got started.”

She flushed. Real fun? Dear God…

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “For a month, I’ve been dying to know why you ran.” He paused, waiting. “Don’t you remember the details?”

She closed her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, the details of that night had refused to be forgotten. To this day, she couldn’t fathom how someone like him, a freaking god among men, would’ve been interested in her or even cared to know why she’d left.

“I’m more than happy to remind you,” Chad offered. “You left while I was in the bathroom. I came out and you were gone. No note. No good-bye. Nothing.”

“I—”

“And if I remember correctly,” he said, his voice lowering to a low, sexy whisper, “I made you come twice before you ran off, so it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying yourself and then some.”

Oh God, her body went hot, but not because of embarrassment. The heat was from the memories his words provoked. The man’s fingers weren’t just skilled at handling a baseball, and his mouth…

Bridget shuddered.

“So, I’ll ask again. Why did you leave?”

Why had she left like the very devil was snapping at her heels? It wasn’t the dark, sensual promise in his cerulean eyes. Or what he had said to her. It was the wakeup call that came in the form of a text message from an incredibly beautiful Russian supermodel.

Bridget had long since accepted that she’d never be one of those women who could ever be considered petite. And normally her confidence didn’t waver, but Chad had to be the kind of man who was used to tight and trim bodies. And when she saw the gossip section that following Sunday and a picture of him and those three women, she knew hightailing her behind out of there had been the right decision. Maybe Chad had been in the mood for something different that weekend, and the last thing she wanted to be was his experiment with buxom girls.

Looking away, she took a deep breath as a series of speeding taxis blew their horns. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have left without saying something,” she admitted. “But I’ve never done that before.”

“What? Had an earth-shattering orgasm?”

Geez, that was partly true, but damn, his arrogance knew no limit. She shook her head. “No. I never went home with a guy—”

“One-night stand?” he interrupted. Doubt clouding his tone. “You’ve never had a one-night stand?”

Bridget looked at him. She couldn’t help but be aware of how close their lips were. “It’s none of your business.”

“I’m about to make it my business,” he replied.

She couldn’t believe she was standing there with him, arguing over her sexual history. Stepping to the side, she said, “I have to get back to work. It was nice—”

Chad placed his free hand on the other side of her head, caging her in. She doubted she’d be able to slip under his arms. The look in his eyes said he might like it if she tried.

“I want to know why you ran,” he demanded again.

Frustration boiled over. Her chin jerked up in defiance. “Maybe I didn’t like the way you were ordering me around, telling me when to come and all.”

“You were enjoying what I was doing. Don’t even deny it.” Chad’s lips spread in a half grin. “I like to be dominant, Bridget. That shouldn’t come as a shock, given where we met.”

She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation on the side of the street, all out in the open and stuff.

“People who go to that bar…they know what kind of people frequent the place.” Chad paused. “Shit. You really have no idea what Leather and Lace is?”

Heat crept across her cheeks. “It’s just a bar…”

“No. It’s a bar that caters to swingers, doms, and subs.”

Oh, dear God. Bridget stared at him. Up until that moment, she really hadn’t believed any of the rumors, and while that was some freaky stuff right there, it wasn’t why she’d bolted. She’d jump in front of a speeding taxi before she admitted why she really ran. “I was at
that
kind of club?”

He nodded.

“
You
were at that kind of club?” Holy crap, she was having images of him tying her down—she threw the brakes on that train before it could fully take off.

A smirk played across his lips. “I’m not really big in the lifestyle, but I do like to dominate in bed.”

That train totally just zoomed off, throwing out silk ties and blindfolds and candle wax. All sorts of stuff she’d read in erotica.

“Okay, now that I know you had no idea what you were getting yourself into, which is sort of cute, by the way, that still doesn’t tell me anything. It wasn’t like I handcuffed you to the bed or scared you off.”

Handcuffs? Crimmey. A low heat started in her belly, even though she wondered if she should be so turned on by the idea.

“And you had nothing to fear from me,” Chad continued in a low, smooth voice. “Your pleasure would’ve come first every single time.”

God, she wished he hadn’t said that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested—”

“Bull. Shit. You were interested. And you’re interested
now
.” Chad leaned in so close that when he spoke his lips grazed her cheek, sending shivers straight to her core. “You may not have known what Leather and Lace was, but you went home with me because you wanted me. I have no idea why you ran, but still, you are
very
interested.”

“I’m not—”

He swore under his breath, and then he cupped her cheeks. His hands were rough from years of playing baseball, but she liked the feel of them. He tilted her head back and with no other warning, he brought his mouth to hers, kissing away her protests and denials. His tongue swept past her lips, tangling with hers.

The kiss was one of pure dominance and control. His way of proving to her she was attracted to him and still very much interested. And there was no sense in lying or throwing up false protests at this point. Her body yielded to the kiss. Gripping the front of his sweater, she sunk into his hard body and kissed him back with fervor.

It seemed like forever before he lifted his head, breathing just as heavily as she was. Staring down at her, he swallowed hard and slowly removed his hands from her cheeks. “Like I said, you’re still very,
very
interested.”

…

Bridget didn’t remember walking back to the Smithsonian. Her legs felt like jelly, and she was in a daze. Had Chad kissed her just to prove she wanted him? If so, he’d gotten what he wanted, because the moment his lips touched hers she had turned to goo.

And then he had left her, turned around and left her on the side of the street.

Not like she didn’t sort of deserve it, considering she had left him without a backward glance last time.

Never in a million years would she have thought she’d ever run into Chase and be kissed by him again.

Once she shut the office door behind her, she turned and found Maddie at her desk, hands cupping her chin.

“Bridget?”

She sighed. “Madison?”

Her friend tilted her head to the side as she tapped long, manicured fingers off her cheek. “So, you and Chad…?”

Shuffling to her desk, she plopped down in her seat and toed her way toward the cart. She dropped her purse on it before she answered. “What about it?”

Silence.

Bridget dared a peek at her boss. “What?”

“You two met at a bar?”

At least that part was true. Bridget nodded.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not like you wouldn’t know
who
he was or
who
he was related to.”

“It really wasn’t a big deal,” she said, glaring at the mass of pens in their holder. Someone had placed a black pen in with the colored ones. Bastard. “I honestly forgot about it.”

Madison snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

Snatching the black pen, she placed it with the blue ones. “We just talked. It was nothing.”

“Nothing… Yeah, okay.” Maddie sat up, crossing her arms, giving Bridget her best bullshit-detector stare. “I’ve known Chad my whole life.”

“I know.” She mirrored her friend’s posture, except the stupid flower poked her in the breast.

Madison smiled a little too brightly. “Chad has always been the…outgoing one. Usually up to no good, but very…playful. When he was younger, he used to always play pranks, and even now he’s really friendly.”

Ah, yes, Chad was
really
friendly. Bridget schooled her expression.

The look on Madison’s face said she wasn’t fooled. “But I’ve never seen him act like he did with you today.”

Bridget struggled to keep her face impassive while internally she was as curious as Pepsi strung out on catnip. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like I said, Chad has always been a friendly person, but he was so in your personal space I was pretty sure he was going to shove his tongue down your throat at some point.”

Her face flushed.

Madison’s eyes narrowed. “And did he grab your thigh at some point?”

“Uh, I…I think so.” She cleared her throat as she swiveled back to her desk. Pens. Pens needed places for order. “He doesn’t normally do that?”

“Only with women he’s slept with,” she quipped.

Bridget dropped three red pens on the floor.

“Did you sleep with Chad?” Madison asked.

The question hung in the room like a plume of poisonous gas. Bending down, she gathered up the pens and faced her friend once more. “No. I did not sleep with Chad.”

Madison stared at her a long, hard moment and then said, “I believe
that
part of the story.”

“
Maddie
,” she said, using the nickname Chase favored.

“Whatever. Don’t Maddie me. I feel offended. I know you’re not being honest with me. Something obviously happened between you two.” Her pout was brief, and then she stood. “You do realize Chase will probably get the truth out of him, right?”

Damn.

Her friend’s eyes lit up as she moved to the front of her nice big desk and propped a slim hip against it. “And if I find out there was an exchange of bodily fluids—any type of fluid—I’m going to tell Robert that you’re madly in love with him.”

“That’s so wrong!”

Madison shrugged.

Picking up a stack of Post-it notes, she chucked them at Madison. They missed her by a mile. Hell. There was little to no chance she was going to get out of this situation without Madison and Chase knowing the truth.

And worse yet, Bridget was going to have an even harder time forgetting Chad after that last searing kiss.

Chapter Nine

Miss Gore was not a happy camper. “You should be home.”

Chad rolled his eyes as he pressed the speaker button on his cell. “I’m at my brother’s house. Isn’t family time a good thing?”

There was an audible huff. “Knowing you, there will be alcohol and strippers involved.”

Poker and beer—there weren’t many things in life better than combining those two. But definitely no naked chicks. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he considered chucking his phone into the nearby bushes. “We’re just playing some poker.”

“Just like you were supposed to be going to dinner with your teammate, when in reality you were going out and getting drunk,” Miss Gore shot back.

Chad smirked. “Look, if I get drunk and I’m not driving, I’ll just crash at my brother Chandler’s house. It’s no big deal. Chill out.”

“I don’t like this.”

“And I really don’t care. Good night, Miss Gore.” He cut off her protests by hitting the end button and then turned off his phone.

Damn, if it wasn’t for that stipulation in his contract…

Shaking his head, he climbed out of his Jeep and headed up the steps. Well-manicured plants and shit lined the sidewalk, which drew a snort from Chad. Chandler, the eldest of the Gamble brood, had the personality of an ox sometimes, but man, his brother had one hell of a green thumb.

Was that a bush of late-blooming roses by the porch? Pansy ass.

An hour later, Chad was kicked back at the card table, watching Chandler deal the cards. Across from Chase, their partner in crime and Maddie’s older brother, Mitch, nursed a warm beer.

“Ever since you got married you’ve started drinking like a grandpa,” Chad accused Mitch, scratching at the label on his bottle.

Mitch snorted. “With Lissa’s middle-of-the-night cravings, I need to stay sober. I have no idea when she’s going to start craving fried chickpeas.”

Chad shuddered. “Babies…”

Frowning at his cards, Chandler looked up. His longer hair was pulled back in a short ponytail. “Fried chickpeas?”

Mitch nodded. “She dips them in a mixture of ketchup and mustard.”

“That’s disgusting,” Chase murmured, rearranging his cards.

Casting his younger brother a sly look, Chad grinned. “Before you know it, you’ll be bouncing little Maddie babies on your knees.”

Mitch groaned. “Yeah, can we not talk about that? Seriously?”

“I vote that we don’t talk about babies or bouncing them on anyone’s knees,” Chandler threw in as he tossed some cards out. “It’s like playing cards with a bunch of old ladies lately.”

Chad snorted as he glanced down at his cards. His hand sucked.

“One of these days, you two will be in the same position as Chase and me.” Mitch took a swing of his beer.

“What? Whipped?” Chad asked innocently.

Chandler laughed.

Looking up, Chase’s brows rose. “Speaking of whipped…”

“You?” Chad offered.

His brother rolled his eyes. “What the hell was going on with you and Bridget today?”

“Bridget?” Mitch frowned. “She works with Maddie, right?”

When Chase nodded and Chad said nothing, Chandler turned to him. “Please tell me you’re not screwing Maddie’s friend. There has to be at least one woman in the entire city you aren’t sleeping with or trying to.”

“I haven’t slept with her.” Not from lack of trying or wanting. “And for the record, there are plenty of women I haven’t slept with.” Several sets of eyes turned on him in disbelief. Geez. “You know those three women I got pictured with?”

Chandler’s brows rose in interest. “Yeah, I think the whole city knows about that.”

“I didn’t sleep with them, either.”

“Whatever,” Chase said, tossing a card aside.

Chad laughed. “I’m being serious. Sort of wished I had now, since everyone thinks I did, but shit, I ain’t seventeen anymore.”

“So what’s the deal?” Chase asked, undeterred.

Normally Chad had no problem talking about his extracurricular activities and apparently there were a lot of them, but for some reason, he didn’t want to talk about Bridget with his brothers or Mitch, and not because he hadn’t had sex with her. He wanted to keep it between the two of them, whatever it was they had between them. She wasn’t like the other women—nothing like them. Which was kind of funny considering how he’d met her, but she was different. From what he knew, Bridget wasn’t pretentious or hardened and probably didn’t give a shit about the fact he played pro ball.

Chad couldn’t think of the last time he was with a woman who didn’t care about that. Aaand his brothers and Mitch were staring at him.

He slapped his cards down on the table. “Nothing is going on.”

“Yeah, I call bull on that shit.” Chase eyed him knowingly. “You were getting all kinds of personal with her today.”

“When is Chad not up in some woman’s personal space?” Mitch asked.

“Ha. Ha.”

Chandler smirked.

There were a few grumbled curses as the hand ended and the cards dealt again. Chase picked right up where he’d left off. “Bridget’s a good girl, you know.”

He moved his cards around. Full house, baby. “I know.”

“Do you? So you know her that well?” Chase countered.

Chad let out a low breath. “I wasn’t saying that.”

“Uh huh.” Chase paused, glancing at Chandler then turning back to him. “Did you sleep with her?”

Lowering his cards, he pinned his younger brother with a look. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I didn’t sleep with her. I already told you that.”

“We have a hard—”

“Time believing me.” He cut Chandler off as irritation pricked the back of his neck. “I get it. And seriously, I don’t want to talk about Bridget. Move the topic along.”

Three sets of curious stares landed on him. It was Chandler who looked the least shocked out of them. He placed two cards down and sat back, smiling to himself. Chad’s eyes narrowed.

“Okay.” Chase paused for a beat. “But can I give you a word of advice?”

“No.”

Chase grinned and went on. “If you make Bridget unhappy, you’re gonna make Maddie unhappy. And that’s going to make
me
very unhappy.”

Chad didn’t want to wake up from the dream he was having. Hell no. There was a soft woman underneath him, full of lush curves and hair the color of red wine. She was arching into him, her head thrown back, and he was going so fast and so hard that the bed was slamming into the wall. He never wanted to stop.

The banging got louder until a very loud, very male curse exploded from somewhere upstairs and heavy feet stomped down the stairs, waking him up and ending his amazing dream.

Someone was at his brother’s door, and considering the kind of business Chandler ran—a high-profile personal security firm—God only knew who it could be.

All he wanted was to go back to sleep and pick up where he left off. Someone banged on the door again. Chad pried one eye open and grimaced at the bright glare of morning light shining in from the windows behind the couch. Shit. He was blinded and had a hard-on that rivaled marble.

He caught movement out of the corner of one eye and flipped onto his side. Stalking past the couch was Chandler in his boxers and nothing else. “Good morning, sunshine,” Chad called out, sitting up.

His brother shot him a nasty look as he went to the front door, wrenching it open so hard, Chad had to wonder how he didn’t tear the door right off its hinges.

“Who the fuck are you?” Chandler demanded.

Chad’s brows rose as he rubbed his forehead. Man, he hadn’t drunk that much last night, but he felt like he’d run his head into a brick wall. Shit. He was getting old.

“I need to see your brother immediately.”

An intense throbbing picked up in his left temple and his right eye twitched. Before he could yell not to let her in, Miss Gore brushed past a very pissed off Chandler, stopping only a brief second to give his brother a cursory look before pinning those dark, evil, soulless eyes on him. Chad grabbed the throw off the back of the couch and pulled it over his lap, even though just hearing that woman’s voice killed any lingering arousal.

She held a newspaper in her hand. It couldn’t be anything about him, since the gossips typically didn’t run until Sunday, so he relaxed about a fraction of an inch.

Chandler folded his arms over his chest. “Like I said, who the fuck are you?”

“She’s my babysitter I was telling you about,” Chad grumbled.

Miss Gore’s lips pursed. “I’m his publicist.”

“What-the-hell-ever,” Chandler said, taking off for the stairs. “I’m going back to bed. It’s too early for this shit.”

Chad watched his babysitter try and
fail
to not check out his brother. He smirked. Now here he thought Miss Gore was asexual. A door slammed shut a few moments later and Miss Gore got all pissy-faced again.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Chad asked, leaning back against the couch.

Without saying a word, she tossed the newspaper at him. It hit his chest. Rolling his eyes, he picked it up and flipped it over. His mouth dropped open. “Oh, shit.”

“Those weren’t the words I used,” she said, standing in front of him. Dressed in a boxy black skirt suit today, she still looked like a damn nun. “You were told to stay away from the women. Can you not make it an entire month?”

Chad could only stare at the headline of the sports section.
Nationals’ Playboy Pitcher Makes a Play on Constitution Ave.
The picture below was of him and Bridget under the awning yesterday, kissing. Someone had a good camera because it was a tight shot on their faces.

“The manager of your Club is very disappointed in you
and
in me. That does not make me happy,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Does anything make you happy?”

She ignored that. “The fact this is even in the sports’ section is worse, Chad. I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”

Chad was too busy staring at the picture to really care. Damn it. He could practically feel Bridget pressed against him right now and that dream he had wasn’t helping. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would think when she saw the newspaper? Or had she already?

And why did he even care?

“Chad,” Miss Gore snapped.

Forgetting the babysitter was still there, he lifted his head and frowned. “What?”

Her frown was so deep he wondered if it would ever fade. “Why did this happen? We’ve been over this again and again. I cannot repair your image if you keep screwing up.”

Why had he done this? “I wanted to kiss her.”

Miss Gore blinked and then drew up to her full height, which was a whopping five feet and seven inches. “You wanted to kiss her. So you just normally kiss people when you want to?”

“It’s not like she was some random chick on the street.”

“Who is this whore, then?”

He was on his feet before he knew it. “You can call me every name you think I deserve, lady, but do not call her that. She is not a whore.”

Miss Gore watched him curiously and then smiled tightly. “Interesting.”

Throwing the paper onto the couch, he turned and shoved his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t slept with her, before you start accusing me of that.”

A pause and then, “She doesn’t seem like the typical woman you go after.”

If he wasn’t going to talk to his brothers about Bridget, he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk about it with the she-devil. “Look, this isn’t a big—”

“It is a big deal.” She sat on the other side of the couch, obviously in no mood to leave any time soon. Great. “My wake-up call this morning was not fun. After your manager expressed his vast disappointment, I was given an ultimatum.”

Unease soured in his gut. “Are they going to cancel my contract?”

Her expression turned severe. “There was talk of that, yes. There was also talk of firing me.”

As much as Chad disliked the woman, a bit of guilt festered within the unease. “I kissed a woman. That’s all. They don’t even know who she is. What if she was my girlfriend? Would they have a problem with that, too?”

Interest sparked in her dark eyes. “Is she your girlfriend?”

A surprised laugh escaped him. “No. I don’t do the dating thing.”

“And therein lies the problem. You do the screwing thing. If she were your girlfriend, then they wouldn’t have a problem with it. The problem is that in the last six months, you’ve been pictured with ten or so different women in very compromising positions. And when you’re not pictured with a woman, then you’re out partying. You’re giving the entire Club a bad reputation.”

Chad dropped his head into his hands and blew out a deep breath. Rubbing his fingers against his temples, he closed his eyes. “I don’t have a drinking problem.”

“I don’t think you do,” she said, surprising him. It seemed like she believed the worst about him when it came to everything else. “But your father did.”

His head jerked up, and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t even go there.”

Miss Gore was unfazed. “All I am saying is that it takes no leap of faith for people to make the jump to a certain conclusion. Your…family background plays into this.”

Of course it did. Even from the fucking grave his father was screwing things up. Then again, it wasn’t really fair to blame everything on dear old Dad. Chad was a grown man and therefore responsible for his own actions. And honestly, he did have his dad to thank for one thing. By watching his father, he learned what not to do with women.

Settle down.

Shit just didn’t work out from that point on. And while he didn’t have his father’s drinking habits, he’d obviously developed his womanizing ones.

“What is the ultimatum?” he asked, so over this conversation.

“I’ve been given a month to clean you up or your contract is canceled and I’m fired.” She paused, brows knitting. “I have never been fired before.”

“Shit.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t been with—”

“The newspaper says different, Chad. It’s all about perception. And I honestly don’t think anything will fix this. The Club has practically given up. They want you, but they don’t want your bad press.”

He sat back against the cushion and shook his head in disbelief. If he lost his baseball contract, he had no idea what he’d do. He had money to last him a while, but it wouldn’t be forever. And he loved the game. Without it, he’d just be going through the motions. And he really didn’t want to have to give up his family to go earn a paycheck in New York.