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Chapter Ten
Sawyer
When she opens the door, I forget to breathe.
It’s crazy how she has the uncanny ability to calm my nerves and render me completely fucking speechless with her beauty at the same time. Her hair is down, falling in big, long curls around her shoulders begging for my touch. They actually tingle with anticipation at the prospect of running my fingers and tangling them in her hair. Her glossy lips are painted a natural color, all plump and inviting. I wonder if they’ll taste as good as they look.
And don’t get me started on that dress. It’s the color of her eyes with a V that dives dangerously low in front, revealing a sexy sliver of silky cleavage. It’s not a provocative cut, but grants flashes of the gems it contains within. My cock is already stirring to life, threatening to make all of my decisions from here on out.
“Wow,” I say, scrambling to find a word worthy of how amazing she looks. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks,” she replies softly, the faintest hint of a blush tinting her cheeks. “You look pretty great yourself, Mr. Randall.”
Stepping forward, I slip my hand around her waist, resting it on her lower back. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks, stepping out on the porch and securing the front door. “Do you have a teacher/student fantasy?”
“Not at all. I’ve had a teacher/teacher fantasy since the moment I realized it was you sitting next to me in the teachers’ lounge.”
She stops in her tracks, halting our progression to my car. Her green eyes twinkle, even during daylight, and the faintest hint of a smile plays on her kissable lips. “Smooth, Mr. Randall. Very smooth.”
“I can be when necessary,” I tell her, offering my own smile.
AJ continues to my car, the scent of her perfume flirting with the light breeze. “Something tells me you’re that way more often than not.”
“Smooth?” I ask, making no move to open the door.
“Yes.”
“When the situation warrants it, then yes, I’ve been known to be a bit charming.” Her eyebrows pull together and her nose scrunches up as she waits me out. “Fine. Back in the day I was a known ladies’ man.”
“A player. Flirt.”
“I see reading those old articles on me isn’t helping any.”
“They’re not that old. I think the one that called you a playboy was last month’s Cosmo.”
“Chick stories. They always want to angle toward the bad boy.”
“And are you?”
“A bad boy?” I take a step closer until I’ve invaded her personal space. “Oh, sweet AJ, I’m definitely a bad boy, but not in the way you think.”
“Define bad boy,” she taunts, her nose lifting high as she gazes up at me with a playful glint in her eyes.
“I’m only a bad boy in the bedroom, sweetheart, and never like those stories indicate. I’m not a cheater, a liar, or a womanizer. I’ve been the focus of those rags since the day I stepped into the majors, for one reason or another, but I promise you most of that crap they print is just that. Crap.”
She swallows hard, the gears inside that beautiful head of hers spinning. Hell, she’s probably judging my sincerity, and I wouldn’t blame her one bit. For some crazy reason, the paparazzi hounded me from day one. They were always nearby, eager to snap a pic of me kissing the cheek of a teammate’s wife (completely cropping out the fact that her husband, my teammate, was standing two feet away). Or they’d catch the right angle to make it appear as if I had my hand on some barely-legal stadium bunny, with her triple Ds and painted-on jersey (always with my number) front and center in the image.
“Okay,” she whispers, offering me more than just a smile. She offers me a chance. AJ is willing to overlook the pages and pages of garbage she probably binge-read on me this past week, and is giving me the opportunity to show her that I’m not that man.
And I’m not about to fuck this up.
I want her too much to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
She’s willing to trust me, even though she doesn’t know me, and I’m not going to let her down.
Brushing my lips across her forehead, I inhale the scent of her shampoo as her hair tickles my nose. My fingers start to burn again, itching to slide into those silky strands, but I keep myself from moving. It’s not an easy feat, not with her practically pressed against me. My body is on fire for her, and we haven’t even made it inside the car.
