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“Okay, Piper. Stop thinking about him and go to sleep. You’ll be a wreck in the morning if you don’t,” I tell myself.
And seeing as tomorrow is Sunday, and I usually have brunch with Mom, it would do me well not to look properly fucked when I see her first thing in the morning.
Unfortunately for me, sleep evades me all throughout the night.
Not when I can still feel his charcoal eyes on me.
When his scent is all over my sheets and pillows.
Not when every sore, sated limb in my body still aches for the ghost of his touch.
Oh, hell no.
No way will I tolerate obsessing over a man who loves nothing more than to torture me.
This was a one-off.
Just your average one-night stand. Nothing more.
‘There was nothing average about it, Piper, and you know it,’I hear the ghost of his husky voice whisper in my ear.
Oh, no.
This is bad.
This is really bad.
If Trent even suspects that I’m somewhat… let’s say…intriguedby him, then he’ll no doubt use that knowledge against me somehow. And, like hell, I’ll give him any ammo to use against me. Especially since I’m supposed to be on my A-game negotiating Jack Donavan’s renewal contract with the Boston Guardians next month.
Trent will be prepared to play hardball with me, and I won’t be able to meet him blow for blow if I’m still fantasizing about how his devilish tongue was able to make me come tonight more times than I can count.
Not only would he not take me seriously if he even suspected I’m obsessing about our night together, but he might get it into his thick head that he has a shot at another.
And that would set a bad precedent.
One night is all I can offer.
Right?
Nope.
Not happening.
Gotta put an end to this. Whatever this is. And fast.
I can’t get a good deal for Jack or any of my players if word gets around that I’m otherwise… distracted.
I need to take my power back.
Hmm.
What’s that thing people say?
To get over someone, you have to get under someone else.
Is that the saying?
Well, it seems like as good a plan as any.
