Page 23 of Playing Hard to Get

She pulled her hand from my grip but didn’t move. Just stared me down with a tiny scowl on her face. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting control.”

I grabbed her by the hips, pulled her flush against me. Her throat bobbed on a swallow as her eyes slid over my face, lingering on my lips. “Let me give you what you need.”

That lip went between her teeth again, but her eyes dropped to the side. I grazed my hands against her low back, down the curve of her ass. Her hands pressed at my chest, pushing, pushing. “Not going to happen.”

She turned, started to walk away.

“You know what I think?”

“I know you think too much,” she shot back over her shoulder, “but not where it matters.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Vivian glanced out into the darkened room, searching, before she turned to me. “We can’t do this, Mitch. I can’t hurt Frankie.”

She turned to go but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back, pulling her straight toward me. With a hand on her nape, my thumb caressed her throat. I pressed my nose into her hair, breathing in her clean scent. “Stay with me.”

Vivian leaned into me, her nose grazing my jaw. Her lips whispered into my ear, “Let me go.”

I froze in place and didn’t fight when she stepped out of my grasp. I watched her walk away, watched those hips swaying, enticing, making me ache for her.

No, I wasn’t finished with her yet.

* * *

Vivian

It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, telling Mitch to let me go. Every inch of my body screamed the exact opposite, begging him to hold me close. It was bad, so bad, how much I wanted him pressed up against me. Wanted his face tucked into my neck and his body close to mine. I didn’t want to go to him, didn’t want to touch him in Frankie’s house. But if she saw me avoiding him like I knew I should, she’d know.

She’d know something was wrong.

Because as far as she knew, Mitch and I were friends. Friends enough for me to hug him and let him touch me back. I had to flirt, to pretend that all was well, like nothing had changed.

Even though everything had changed.

I needed a drink more than anything, but not bad enough to stay by Mitch’s side. I made my way into the crowd, eyes searching without seeing. Faces, familiar and not, surrounded me. Hellos and how’s it goings spoken loud over the music. I saw, but I didn’t. My mind was back at the bar.

“There you are, Vivian.” The use of my name pulled me to the present. My eyes flashed up and I found my friend, Kimber Stone. No, not a friend. An acquaintance. Because like most people were to me, she was hard to take. Her fake chest and bleached hair, red lips a shade too dark. She wasn’t known for her subtlety. But Frankie needed bodies, females to offset the men in the room. To make it a party they’d enjoy.

The team won the season opener. It was the least I could do.

I plastered on my smile, all glitter without the gold. “Kimber, you look lovely,” I said as I kissed the air near each of her cheeks. “Love the dress.”

“It’s Taleal. Up and coming designer, going to be the next big thing.” The way she said it, that perky, nasal voice, had me wanting to cut and run. Because I couldn’t take more than a minute or two of the woman when she was all the way across the room.

Smiling that glittery smile, I turned to her friend—this one a friend of mine. Jillian Banks at least had the decency not to dress like she was going dancing on a pole. Her teal shift showed off her long legs but covered her arms. The perfect mix of fashion and logic for the cool spring weather.

“Nice to see you, Jillian,” I said, giving her the same air-kiss treatment.

“You too. That dress is stunning on you. Did you design it?”

I glanced down at my dress, a drape of black fabric with mesh covered cutouts around the waist and down the arms. “Yes, this is me. Of course, the Louboutin's can make anything look polished.”

Jillian and I laughed. Kimber didn’t get my slam. Her own Louboutin’s are the only part of her tiny little outfit that actually looked like high fashion. The mix of colors and patterns made me want to lose my lunch.

Jillian drew me into conversation while Kimber tried desperately to follow. If it weren’t for her family money, Kimber would have dropped out of the fashion world for good years ago. But money would spend no matter where it came from or how inept its owners were. And for that reason, she was still here.

I felt the pull behind me, a magnetic attraction I couldn’t ignore. A hand landed on my hip, and my body was tugged to exactly where it wanted to be: in Mitch’s arms.