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But when he looked over at her, something new had flared in his green eyes. He guided her back into his hold with ease. “Well, looks like I was right.”
She closed her eyes, her face burning. “You cannot breathe a word. Seriously. My job . . .”
“Is perfectly safe. I told you. I’d already figured it out, and I’m not telling anyone’s secrets.” He leaned closer. “But damn if I’m not jealous as hell.”
She looked up at him.
His smile was wry. “I’m a pawn in some scene tonight, aren’t I?”
“Scene?”
“Kink.” He rolled her out for a spin and then captured her again. “You two are playing.”
She let out a breath. How the hell had her near-virgin self gotten into this? Two weeks ago she’d been blushing over talking about masturbation, now she was having a conversation with a co-worker about how she was part of some kinky game. She was flailing around in the deep end, no floaties in sight. But she was caught. There was no getting around it. “You’re not a pawn. I didn’t know what would happen tonight. And I really do want to be friends and am enjoying tonight. I don’t want you to feel like—”
“Don’t apologize. I think it’s hot as fuck.”
“What?” The switch in tone and the frank language startled her.
He shrugged. “I already suspected Donovan was a kinky bastard. I usually recognize my own kind. But I never would’ve guessed it of you.”
Now it was her turn for surprise. “Your own kind?”
The amiable Lane smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. “You know how I said I have work mode and personal mode?”
She nodded.
“Well, personal mode is Master Cannon. After all that patience and tenderness at work, I need another kind of outlet in my off hours.”
Her lips parted. “You’re a dominant?”
“Now you know my secret. We’re even.” The music shifted into something slower, and Lane adjusted their movements to accommodate it. “So, you don’t know the plan?”
She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. She had no idea why, but somehow it was making her hotter knowing that Lane was now aware of what she was doing with Donovan. “I don’t know for sure. But Donovan’s recordings—the ones he made for his study in college. There was a scenario like this. A guy watches a woman on a date. You get the sense that they know each other, that maybe she’s been teasing him, wants to flaunt her date in front of him, taunt him. And then he . . . calls her bluff. Takes her.”
“By force?” Lane asked, no censure in his voice.
Her face heated. “I’d call it strong persuasion.”
“Damn,” Lane breathed. “It’s always the quiet ones. You sure you don’t prefer blonds? I’m really, really good in bed. People pay me for it, you know.”
She shoved his shoulder, earning a laugh from him.
“All right.” Lane tugged her closer. “I’ll stop. If you’re his, I’m not going to mess with that. But if that’s the fantasy, then maybe we should play along.”
“Play along?”
His smile turned mischievous, and he leaned forward, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear and sending a shiver down her neck. “Yes, Dr. Rush. You want him to be wild for you, right? If he’s here somewhere, let’s taunt him.”
Marin’s breath whooshed out of her. “Lane.”
He dragged her to him, his chest hard against hers, all semblance of polite dancing space disappearing. He tipped his head toward her as he rocked his hips in time to the sensual rhythm of the music. “All you have to do is say stop and I stop. But this could be fun. The more real everything feels, the more exciting it is. Trust me. I know how to play these games, too. Pretend there’s no one else in the room but me.”
Marin stared up at him in shock. “But what if he thinks we’re really into each other?”
“Then he’ll be that much more motivated to lure you away from me.” He nuzzled her jaw. From a distance, it probably looked like he was kissing her neck. “Imagine the possibilities. He’s going to play with your fear. It’s only fair that you play with his a little, too.”
“I doubt he’s that scared,” she said dryly. “We’ve just started this. If I was interested in someone else, he’d just move on.”
