When Clara Scott signs up for the Player’s Game, she does it only for the money. As a struggling single mom, she needs the extra cash.
Colton Rossi is beautiful, but he’s also a notorious player. Women swoon all over him. Yet Clara’s not interested in the least in a Casanova like him, nor does she have time in her life for romance.
She knows she can’t get tangled up in his games. She needs to look out for herself, and her small son too. As intoxicating as he is, she vows to pull herself away from him, but when he makes her an offer she can’t refuse, she’s drawn in further despite her best intentions.
Will her preconceptions be confirmed, or is there more to Colton Rossi than meets the eye?
WICKED PLAYER contains some coarse language and sexual scenes. For 18+ audiences.
He presses his mouth against my head. “I’m glad I’ve finally got you alone,” he says. “I’ve been dying to smell your hair all night. It always smells so nice.”
I close my eyes, inhaling his scent too. “You smell nice too… manly.”
He laughs into my hair, and pulls me in closer. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already so turned on, I fear I might explode. I don’t know if it’s the drugs, or the fact that I haven’t been laid in years, or maybe it’s just… him.
He presses a finger under my chin, and lifts my face to his. “You are so pretty.”
I love his words. I don’t know if he says them often, if they mean anything at all. But I love them anyway. I do feel pretty in his arms. I’m desperate for his kiss, but he teases, almost as if he knows how much I want it. This is a man who loves to play, and I’m his chosen toy tonight.
His lips travel softly across my mouth, around my chin, down my neck, and back up again, his breath hot on my skin. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take.
He finally presses his hot mouth on mine. His lips are just as soft and delicious as I imagined in my fantasies. And he tastes of mint. And God, he knows how to kiss. Every stroke of his tongue, every soft bite of my lips reels me in deeper, arouses me more intensely. I lose myself in him, and I feel him lose himself in me.
He hikes up my thigh against his hips, and presses me against the wall of bottles. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and hike up my other leg against him, wanting to get closer to him, craving more. I grind against him, and when he jerks up the skirt of my dress, I’m game for anything.
He pulls away, tearing his mouth from mine, and I ache. I want his kiss. He travels south as he kisses my shoulder, then bites the swell of my breast. God, I want him. Now. He kneels to the floor, and his hands travel upward.
Oh no… the Spanx!
Just then, the cellar door swings wide open and Victoria stands there, wide-eyed.
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