Page 30 of Play Dirty

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a snort.

“Trust me,” I told him. “If I’d wanted something, I wouldn’t be subtle about it.”

That got a raised eyebrow from him.

“Oh, really?”

His gaze dipped — quickly, deliberately — then came back up. Taking me in just as openly as I had him.

“I thought that bathroom was taken,” I went on, changing the subject. “Sebastian and I have a system.”

“Yeah?” he said. “That’s cute.”

God, I wanted to pound him! To wipe the smug little grin off his—

“It’s also not my problem.”

I shifted on the bed, leaning back into my headboard. The idea was that if I looked casual enough, I might appear in control.

“Players take priority,” he said simply.

And there it was. That tone. That line.

Something in me snapped.

“Stop with that player priority shit,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Believe it or not, I’m on the team, too. Just because I don’t have a stick in my hand—”

I stopped, mid-sentence.

Damn.

Heat rushed to my face so quickly it felt like a wave.

Now Grayson did smirk. And his smirk was impressive.

“Do you want one?” he asked.

“Want what?”

“A stick in your hand?”

My face burned even hotter now. He shifted in the doorway, from one arm to the other. Knowing full well it would draw my attention back to his body.

“We’ve got options, as far as sticks go,” he went on. “Long ones. Wide ones. Curved—”

“Wow,” I cut in. “You really went all in on that one, didn’t you?”

He hesitated, if only for a moment.

But in that moment, I had him.

“Tell me something, I continued. “Do you rehearse something like that? Or does it just come naturally when you’re standing half-naked in someone’s doorway?”

He didn’t move. He didn’t retreat. He only shrugged.

“Just thought you might appreciate the offer.”

“I’m good,” I replied. “I prefer tools that actually get the job done.”