Page 77 of Silver Player

“Okay.” I sit back, still resting over him, my center balanced on the swell of him still evident and hard.

“Fuck,” he groans, scrubbing both hands down his face, the stubble scratching under his palms. “Do you know how sexy you look right now, with the glow of the light behind you and your hair. Shit. I feel like I can’t deny you anything in this position.”

I stare back at him, stunned beyond words. “What?”

“You’re so stunning, Roxie.”

If he’s attempting to butter me up in hopes to butter my biscuit, it might work with those pretty words. No one calls me stunning, least of all him. Then I recall he did once, in the heat of a disagreement in my office. Stunning is one of those words on a whole different level than beautiful or pretty.

“That’s sweet of you,” I say, tucking hair behind my ear.

“I’m not being sweet. I’m being honest. I can hardly look at you without wanting to take you to the floor and devour you.”

What? “What?”

“Roxanne, has it ever occurred to you that the reason we fight is because we’re attracted to each other?”

Well, I know I’m attracted to him, but… “You’re attracted to me?”

“From the first moment I met you. Even though you called the cops on me.”

I stare down at him, flabbergasted. “But you…you always mock me.”

“Flirt.”

“Tease me.”

“Sexual frustration.”

“No,” I gasp. “You don’t even like me.”

He presses upward, the evidence of his attraction pressing into me. “I very much like you, Roxanne.”

He sits up again, and I almost fall back, but he catches me with two hands on my ass. He squeezes the globes as his eyes peer up at me, devilish and mischievous. “Admit that you like me, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I like you,” I mutter, and the playful gleam returns to his eyes. What’s with this man? He seems so desperate to be liked. Is he desperate for love as well? I don’t get it. I hadn’t seen it, but his player reputation is a cover-up for something deeper. Acceptance. He wants people to like him. He wants me to like him.

“You’re a bad boy, Billy Harrington,” I tease, clapping his cheeks between my palms.

“And you might love it.” He smiles. I shake my head as his mouth crushes mine again. He kisses me hard but not as suggestive, not as desperate. More hunger, more devour, and more plea to give in to him. I feel myself fall forward, him tugging me down over him once again. My chest rests on his as I catch myself with my hands on the bed. The kiss only lasts another second before he stops, and I pull back, peering down at him, just as his bedroom door opens.

29

Caught in the act

[Billy]

“William?”

“Dad,” I choke, my eyes holding Roxie’s whose are wide and mortified glaring down at me. Kill me, they say before she closes them and then she shifts. Only I have a problem, and I don’t want her to move. My hand comes to her hip, keeping her in place. I’m certain she’s left a wet smudge on my pants, and my dick is so hard there’s no mistaking what she’s done to me.

What is she doing to me?

I like you. She admits it, and I feel like the kid who found the golden ticket in a chocolate bar. She apologized for what she said the other morning and then said she didn’t believe things were my fault. What does she know? I internally snarked before accepting she sounded sincere.

“I can come back,” my dad mutters, but he doesn’t move, and I feel like a teenager all over again. Actually, James was the one caught in the house with plenty of women; Dolores Chance, our neighbor most often.

“I think I’ll just…” Roxie sits back, again attempting to move, but it forces her heated center one hundred percent over me, and while my dad’s interruption should be a buzzkill, I haven’t softened. I want this woman. I want her comfort. I want her warmth, but most of all, I want her heart.