Tempting the Player (15 page)

He slid off her and quickly pulled up his jeans. “Yeah, you’re right. We wouldn’t want to complicate things.”

Chapter Sixteen

Over the next two weeks, things progressed as planned. To the public and the Nationals, their relationship was a blossoming love affair of epic proportions. Even Miss Gore was starting to think that something real was going on between them.

“Are you taking her to buy a gown for the Christmas event?” she asked, eyeing him above the rim of her glasses.

Chad pressed the up arrow on the treadmill, hoping to drown out Miss Gore’s voice and his own internal annoying-as-hell voice. They’d done the required three dates a week and the stay-over on the weekend, but since the night on the couch, things had been tense. It wasn’t that they weren’t getting along, because they were. They were getting along “famously,” as Miss Gore had put it. Yesterday, he’d taken Bridget to the clubhouse and taught her how to hold a curveball, a change-up, and a fastball. She was ridiculously horrible at positioning her fingers, to the point it was entertaining.

Afterward, they’d had lunch at Hooters down the road with Tony.

Tony liked Bridget, more than Chad appreciated, which was stupid, because God knew they didn’t want to “complicate” things.

Things were already fucking complicated.

Not to mention he was jerking off like he was in damn high school again. Thirty years old, a pro athlete, and richer than sin, and he was jerking off every day instead of getting off in a woman. That’s what his life had come down to.

But the even more fucked up thing was that he still could get a piece if he wanted to. Hell, he knew how to be discreet when he chose, but he didn’t. He didn’t want anyone except the redheaded vixen.

Bridget consumed his thoughts when she was with him or away. For two weeks, he’d been in a constant state of arousal that had only been whetted by what had taken place between them.

“Chad!” snapped Miss Gore. She leaned over the arm of the treadmill and hit the emergency stop button.

At the last minute, he caught himself before he ate the tread. “Jesus!”

“Not quite.” She folded her arms. “Have you been listening to me at all?”

“Yes.” He grabbed the towel off the front and stepped off the treadmill, mopping up his sweat. “I’m taking her out later today, before dinner, to one of those damn places you picked out that’s going to cost me a month’s salary.”

Miss Gore nodded her approval. “Bridget will like the place.”

“How do you know what she likes?” He tore off his shirt and tossed it into a laundry basket. Miss Gore was so not affected by any partial nudity on his end.

She followed him out into the kitchen. “I like her, you know.”

Grabbing a bottle of water, he raised a brow at her.

“Your friends seem to like her, too.
You
seem to like her.”

Chad downed half of the bottle. “What are you getting at?”

Miss Gore shrugged her bony shoulders. “All I’m saying is that you two are really convincing.”

Whatever. He said that out loud, too.

“Well, the good news is that the Nationals are beyond pleased with you.” A proud smile tilted the corners of her lips, and she looked almost human for a moment. “The Christmas event they plan should seal the deal. You should be happy about this. There’s only a week and some odd days left.”

Chad wasn’t happy about this.

“Of course, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Of course not.

“I’ll stay on to make sure you maintain your image,” she continued. “If we play our cards right, we’ll get the public’s sympathy after your split from Miss Rodgers.”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, so we’re going to make her the villain in all of this?”

“Better than you coming out the bad guy, right?” Miss Gore frowned. “What? Does that bother you?”

Chad didn’t say anything, because honestly, what did this woman think of him if she thought he’d be okay with that? There’d be nothing she could say that would get him to let Bridget take the blame. Contract or no.

After a while, Miss Gore left, passing his older brother Chandler on the way out. The two came to a complete standstill in the foyer. Neither would move out of the way for the other. There couldn’t be two more obstinate people in the world, he realized. Chad left them to figure how to enter and exit at the same time.

Later, it turned out Bridget did love the Little Boutique on 27
th
Avenue. She floated from one rack of sparkly dresses to another while he sat in one of those chairs that reminded him of a throne—a pink throne that someone’s grandmother took a Bedazzler to.

Through narrowed eyes, he watched her look over the accessories first. She had her eye on a necklace that appeared to be a real emerald dangling from a silver chain. She kept running her fingers over it, and he thought the stone would match her eyes—

What the hell was he thinking? A necklace would match her eyes? God, he sounded like Chase.

She finally moved over to the dresses, going straight for a deep-green one that looked like it would hug her curves. He hoped she picked that one. His gaze dropped to her sweet, round ass, and he had to look away before things got real awkward up in here.

At the counter, two clerks were giggling and whispering as they stared at him.

Taking a deep breath, he went back to staring at Bridget as he slid farther down in his pink throne, spreading his thighs wide to get a little more comfortable. He saw her pick up the tag and then frown. She dropped the dress.

“Bridget?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and a bright red and purple silk scarf was intricately tied around her neck. “What?”

“I liked that dress.” He nodded at the green one she’d held.

Walking over to him, she straightened the edges on the scarf. “I do, too.”

“Then try it on.”

She bit down on her plump lip, and he was jealous. He wanted to bite it—lick it. “It’s too expensive.”

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a lollipop he’d stolen from the counter when they’d come in. “How much is it?”

“You don’t even want to know.”

Tearing off the wrapper, he popped the lolli in his mouth. “How much?”

“Too much,” she replied.

“How much, Bridget?”

She sighed and her eyes narrowed. “It’s a little shy of fifteen hundred.”

Chad didn’t even blink. “Try it on.”

“But—”

“Try it on.” When she didn’t budge, he arched a brow. “Or I will.”

Her stern expression slipped away as she giggled. “Is that supposed to convince me? I’d die to see you in that dress.”

Chad swirled the lolli around, eyes narrowing. “I’ll try it on right here, in front of the two nice ladies up front. You know, by the counter and the
glass
windows.”

“Go ahead,” she said, but when he raised both brows, she rolled her eyes and made a sound of disgust. “Fine.”

When she spun around, he got an eyeful of the frustrated little twitch in her step and his lips split into a grin. Biting into the hard candy, he watched her stalk past him with the dress in hand, shooting him a dark look.

Of course, the moment he heard the soft
click
of the dressing room door, pictures of her stripping her clothes off filled his head. Images of her wiggling that ass out of those jeans and unhooking her bra, because that dress was strapless, teased him.

Chad shifted in the blitzed-out throne, feeling himself swell.

Twice now Bridget had stopped things right before the real fun could get started. Complicate things? As if the whole situation wasn’t already complicated as fuck. So why not just do what they both wanted? Because he knew she wanted him.

As he sat there, the stupidest shit popped into his head. Chad thought about his father. Now that was a man who had pretty much done whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Not that his father’s behavior was something to look up to. Hell, the way his father had behaved, as if the world was one giant playground built just for him, had fucked with all their heads. It was why Chase had stayed away from Maddie as long as he had and why Chandler was a controlling, obstinate fuck.

And it was why Chad acted like…well, like the world was his playground.

Fuck.

Sitting up straighter, he thought what a fucked-up place to have such a realization. He was sitting in a damn pink throne. And you’d think that would’ve changed what he was about to do, but it didn’t. He was pissed, confused, and horny. Not a good combination.

Chad stood up and tossed the ladies up front a grin and a wink. “I’m going to help her zip her dress.”

One of them giggled. “You do that.”

Swaggering back down the hall, he knocked on the door and then immediately opened it. The curve of a pale back greeted him. There was a freckle right beside her spine.

Yeah, he was going to get up close and personal with that freckle.

Bridget gasped and jerked around, clutching the front of the green dress to her breasts. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “What are you doing?”

“Remember when I said I was being a good boy? Well, now I’m being naughty.”

“Chad!” Her voice came out in a hushed whisper. “We’re in a dressing room. There are people right out the—”

“I don’t care.” He caught her arms, totally not missing the flare of heat in her eyes. Oh, baby, Bridget had a naughty girl in her. “There is something I need to do.”

Bridget opened her mouth, probably to ask a shit ton worth of questions, because that woman was inquisitive as hell, but he silenced her words with his mouth. Kissing her, he didn’t hold back. He claimed her, forcing her lips open, and just when her body started to tremble, he pulled back and flipped her around, so that her back was against his front.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, but her voice was husky and betrayed her needs.

He slid the material down her hips, letting it pool around her ankles. Then he kissed that freckle and when he licked it, her back arched. He straightened, dragging his hands up her sides. He could see her in the mirror, the rosy tips of her breasts pebbled, begging for him.

Who was he to deny her?

Chad cupped her breasts in both hands from behind and lowered his head, his breath stirring the tiny strands of red hair. “I like the dress.”

Bridget’s eyes were only half open. “You didn’t even see me in it.”

“I saw enough to know you’d look good out of the dress.” He rolled her nipples between his fingers, causing her to jerk. “So, yeah, I like the dress.”

Her breath was coming out in short rasps. “Chad, we need to stop this. This isn’t—”

She’d grabbed at his hands, but he easily caught her wrists in one hand. Holding them captured under her breasts, he placed a kiss against her thundering pulse. “This isn’t what? Something that you want? Bullshit. You want it.”

A shudder rocked her body, and her lashes lowered completely, fanning her flushed cheeks. Chad smiled against her exposed neck as he slid his free hand down her belly, loving the softness of her skin. When his fingers reached the band on her panties, she tried to pull her hands free.

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere.” He kissed the spot below her ear and was rewarded with a shiver. “We’re going to do this right now.”

In the mirror, he could see her teeth clamped down on her plump lower lip and he knew he had her. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. “I want you to watch me.”

Bridget’s lashes lifted.

“See what I’m doing?” Slipping a hand between her spread thighs, he slid his fingers under the satiny panties. “You like that?”

Heat flared, turning her eyes an emerald shade of green. “Yes,” she gasped.

Brushing over her damp folds, he groaned deep in his throat. She was already wet and ready for him.

For. Him.

“Well, you’re really going to like this.” He eased a finger in her, and it didn’t take much.

Bridget’s hips immediately rolled into the rhythm, her ass pressing back against his cock over and over, and if he wasn’t careful, it was going to be a very awkward walk out of the boutique.

When he felt her muscles starting to tremble, he let go of her wrists and placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her cries. She surprised him, though, when she sucked one of his fingers into her mouth as she came. He felt that all the way to the tip of his dick.

Letting her go when he was sure she wouldn’t collapse, he put distance between them. Perhaps this wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. The smell of her clung to him, he could still feel her pushing back against him, and now he wanted nothing more than to just take her to the floor. Against the mirror. Fuck, anywhere.

Bridget stared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, breathing raggedly. “What about you?”

His lips twisted into a smirk. “That’ll just complicate things.”

“Chad—”

He stopped at the door. “Does the dress fit?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good. We’re getting it.” He opened the door and pinned her with one last look. Man, if he stared at her any longer, he was going to have her on her knees or on her back. “And don’t argue with me about it.”

Bridget looked so damn sexy standing there, naked with the exception of her panties and her chin jutting out stubbornly.

Yeah, he needed to get the fuck out of the dressing room now.

Chad dipped out, closing the door behind him. Too bad getting her out of his head wasn’t as easy as shutting a door.

Chapter Seventeen

Bridget barely recognized herself in the green dress. The deep hue brought out the matching color in her eyes and flattered her pale complexion and red hair. The material was heavy, concealing any kind of unsightly bulges but didn’t feel like she was wearing a curtain.

“You look beautiful,” Shell said, putting the finishing touch in Bridget’s updo—a silvery clip that held her curls up. “The dress is fantastic.”

The dress
was
fantastic. “I can’t believe he bought this. Such a wa—”

“If you say waste of money, I will disown you.” Shell turned her around and stared at her hard. “It’s wonderful that he would do something like this—romantic. You’re going to have a wonderful time hanging out with the players and glamorous people.”

Bridget swallowed, but her throat was dry. Butterflies were bouncing around her stomach like they were trying to find a way out. She’d met Tony and some of the other guys, but the idea of hobnobbing with all of them made her want to hurl.

“Chad’s picking you up from my place?” Shell asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s actually closer to his and made sense, since you were doing my hair.”

Shell grinned at her. “Gawd girl, you are so damn lucky. I hope you realize that. Chad is a hell of a catch. I’m jealous.”

An ache pierced her chest, and she turned back to the mirror, blinking rapidly and hoping she didn’t ruin her mascara. This whole thing was almost over. Three days from Christmas and tomorrow was the last day of work for her before the holiday break. Then there was New Year’s and the Gala.

Chad probably wouldn’t even be around for the Smithsonian event.

According to Miss Gore, the Nationals were thrilled with Chad’s improvement. There was no more talk about canceling the contract, and the publicist fully believed that after tonight, his image would be repaired. And what had that evil woman said the last time she’d seen her?

“Chad will probably get the public’s sympathy when you guys split,” Miss Gore had said. “So this will work out wonderfully.”

God, she hated that woman with a passion.

“Bridget?” Shell’s voice intruded. “Are you okay?”

Her mouth opened, and she so badly wanted to tell Shell the truth, but how could she? It wasn’t like Shell didn’t know she’d gotten in trouble over the student loans, but how could she tell anyone that everything that had been between her and Chad had been completely faked?

Except the passion—she was pretty sure that was real.

She forced a smile. “You don’t think this dress is too much?”

Shell barked out a short laugh. “Okay. Something is definitely wrong with you if you’re asking if any piece of clothing is too much. This is actually pretty tame for you.”

It was. With black beading over the heart-shaped bodice, it was nothing like the flamboyant style she usually relied on.

“You look great, Bridget.”

“Thank you.” Bridget left the bathroom and took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just feeling tired.”

Shell nodded. “Well, you better pep up because you need to enjoy yourself. Seriously. You and Chad are like a Cinderella story.”

Bridget laughed at that. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Whatever. It’s totally—” A knock on her front door cut off her words. She let out a low squeal and spun toward the entrance before Bridget could blink.

Her friend threw open the door. “Hellloooo…”

Bridget peered around the corner, and her heart sped up. Her mouth also dropped open. There might have been a little drool.

Chad in a tux was, well, everything any female on the planet could imagine.

His broad shoulders really filled out the jacket in ways most men couldn’t. It was a perfect fit, cut to his body and his body alone. With his hair artfully messy and his lips tipped in a half smile, he looked like he stepped right out of a movie or something—right out of a fairy tale.

Chad extended a hand to Shell. “Nice to finally meet you.”

She murmured something unintelligible and spun around, mouthing the words
Prince Charming
before spinning back to Chad. “You’re even better looking up close. Most people aren’t, but wow, you definitely make the cut.”

Bridget grinned.

Taking her friend’s outburst good naturedly, Chad laughed. “Well, I’m glad to hear I ‘make the cut.’”

As he stepped past her, Shell checked him out from behind. “Yeah, you definitely make the cut.”

Okay. That was probably enough. If Bridget didn’t intervene, there was a good chance Shell would start touching him. Stepping out into the hall, she gave him a short, awkward wave.

Chad stumbled a little, and Bridget had never seen him stumble. He drew up short and swallowed as his gaze drifted over her. “You look…absolutely beautiful.”

She felt the blush sweep over her face. “Thank you.”

“You both look great.” Shell reappeared, holding her phone. “I want a picture.”

“This isn’t prom, Shell.”

Chad chuckled as he held his arm to Bridget. “Come on over here. Let’s get our picture taken.”

Shooting her friend a look, which was subsequently ignored, Bridget slipped up to Chad’s side. His arm went around her waist, and he pulled her closer, tucking her against him.

Shell squealed as she held up the phone. “Smile!”

After a couple of pictures Shell swore wouldn’t end up on her Facebook or anywhere else, Bridget and Chad said their good-byes. On the way out, Bridget grabbed the lacy black shawl, and he helped drape it over her shoulders.

“It’s pretty chilly outside,” he said outside Shell’s apartment. “You sure this is enough?”

Bridget nodded.

He smiled slightly. “That’s right. You hate jackets.”

“They’re just so bulky.” Since Shell had a first-floor apartment, it didn’t take long for her to discover just how cold it had become since she’d arrived at her friend’s place.

Outside, she clutched the ends of the shawl together and inhaled deeply. “It smells like—”

“Snow?” he cut in, grinning at her.

Bridget looked at him and felt her heart do that damn little jump again. “Yes. It smells like snow.”

“I heard that it’s calling for snow on Christmas. I can’t remember the last time we had a white Christmas.”

She couldn’t, either. Snow in any real amounts didn’t usually fall until February, and if it was more than an inch, the entire town shut down.

Chad opened the door for her but caught her arm before she could climb in. He leaned in, his lips brushing her temple. “I’m torn,” he said.

“About what?”

His lips curved against her skin. “I can’t decide if you look better in that dress or with it pooled around your ankles.”

Bridget was suddenly hot in the near freezing temperatures. Damn it. She had been trying desperately to forget about those minutes in the dressing room and here he had to bring it up. Liquid fire licked at her, magnified when he placed a hand on her hip.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “I’m going to go with it lying on my bedroom floor.”

Her breath went out in an unsteady rush. “You haven’t seen that.”

Chad pulled back and there was a cocky grin on his face. “Not yet.”

Christmas was everywhere. As they walked into the fancy hotel hosting the event, Bridget was caught up in all the glitz. Garland twisted around the lampposts. Icicle lights hung from the fronts of buildings, glimmering like hundreds of polished diamonds. In the tiny park splitting the congested streets, a decorated Christmas tree glowed brightly.

While Bridget wasn’t a huge fan of the holiday, she did love all the shiny things. Most of the year, the city was dull and drab, but come Christmas, the entire town sparkled.

And this hotel was really sparkling.

The Christmas tree in the lobby glimmered gold and silver, so bright and beautiful.

“You like it?” Chad murmured in her ear, placing a hand on her lower back.

She nodded as they stopped in front of the massive tree. “It’s beautiful.”

“I like the trees that are all different colors. You know, the kind that really doesn’t have a theme to them. Maddie’s parents have a tree like that, bulbs just thrown up on it. Mismatched tinsel and a star that is
always
crooked.”

Bridget smiled. She’d met Madison’s parents a few times, and they’d been a riot. She couldn’t imagine what Christmas was like at their house. Probably involved decorating bomb shelters and general craziness—the good kind of craziness.

“You know I always do Christmas Eve at their place, right? It’s tradition.”

Yes. She knew that.

“And this year—“

“I’m not going to Madison’s house for Christmas,” she said, stepping away from him. “No way is that happening.”

His brows puckered. “Do you have plans?”

Did she have plans? She almost laughed. She’d be doing the same thing she did on Christmas for the last nine years. “It’s not important. So where’s the big party?”

Chad watched her for a moment and then took her hand. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Bridget wasn’t sure how to prepare herself for this event, but she soon realized nothing could have. They were rushed the moment they stepped into the glittery ballroom.

She was introduced to so many people she couldn’t keep their faces straight or remember their names. A glass of champagne was handed to her and then another. Being on the arm of Chad Gamble was really like being with a rock star. It was obvious everyone loved him or at least looked up to him, especially the younger teammates. They were in awe of him.

Pictures were taken, one after another, and she knew a whole boatload of them would be in the newspaper and on the web within hours. When the manager of the Club introduced himself, Bridget glanced at Chad.

Nothing in his expression changed, but he stiffened just the slightest. “How’re you doing?” he said, extending his free hand.

“Great. I’m glad to see you here with such beautiful company.” The manager shook Chad’s hand and then turned to Bridget. The man’s lined face crinkled as he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who has gotten this old dog to behave.”

Bridget couldn’t help but grin as she shook the manager’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. The event is lovely.”

“And she’s well-mannered.” The man’s white-as-snow brows lifted as he clapped Chad on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky boy. I hope to see her at the games in the spring.”

Chad replied, but Bridget really didn’t hear him. Forcing her smile to remain on her face, she hated the suddenly heavy feeling in her chest. She wouldn’t be at the games in the spring. Or if she happened to go to one—which she doubted she would—it wouldn’t be in the context the manager hoped for.

Heart heavy, she excused herself to find the ladies’ room. It was blissfully empty as she smoothed down some of the flyaways that were popping up all over her head and ordered herself to pull it together. She hadn’t wanted to do this in the first place, and she should be thrilled it was almost over.

But she wasn’t.

It had nothing to do with the glamorous life Chad lived—the dinners, the nights out, and all the attention. What she was going to miss was
him
.

Heading back into the ballroom, she got another glass of champagne, thinking the liquid courage could help, and scanned the glitzy room for Chad. There were so many men in tuxes it was like a sea of hotness. Shell was going to be so disappointed she didn’t score an invite.

“Excuse me,” came a soft, feminine voice.

Turning to the sound, she discovered she was surrounded by what you typically found in a sea of male hotness—its counterpart. The beach of ridiculously hot babes.

Bridget squared her shoulders, expecting an onslaught of catty remarks and probably a lecture on how bad Chad was at relationships. God only knew if he’d slept with any of these women.

“You must be Bridget.” A slender blonde extended a delicate hand. Dressed in a tiny black dress, she looked like a movie star next to Bridget. “We’ve been hearing so much about you.”

“Not from Chad. He’s not the kiss-and-tell type,” another woman said. Bridget thought her name was Tori from an earlier introduction.

“I love the dress,” another woman said, her slanted eyes heavily lined with kohl. “It’s such a beautiful color.”

Bridget opened her mouth but was unsure of what to say.

“I’m so glad he’s found someone,” a raven-haired beauty said. “Chad needs a good woman.”

Bridget was stunned.

A woman with toffee-colored skin stepped forward with a wide smile. “I’m sorry. You’re probably like, what the hell with all of us converging on you. We just get excited whenever there’s a chance we might outnumber the men. My name is Vanessa.” She extended a hand. “My husband is number fifteen—shortstop. Drew Berry.”

Bridget took the hand, recognizing the husband’s name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Vanessa smiled broadly and made a round of introductions that were a blur to Bridget. “We should do brunch sometime or dinner—you work, right?”

She nodded as another woman grinned. “Or will Chad let you out of his sight long enough? Because he looks like the kind of man who likes to keep his woman busy.”

A flush crept across her face an instant before Chad came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist. “You doing okay over here?” he whispered, and when she nodded, he spoke louder, addressing the horde of beautiful and surprisingly nice women. “All of you look lovely tonight.”

Vanessa’s eyes rolled. “Chad—forever the charmer.”

“He needs to talk to my husband,” Tori added, and several of the women laughed. “You know what Bobby said to me tonight? That I looked like the best cut of steak.” Her eyes rolled. “You can take the boy out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the boy.”

“Being compared to steak is one of the highest forms of flattery,” Chad explained, giving them his best grin. The one that hooked, lined, and sunk about a thousand women. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to steal Bridget.”

“Have fun.” Vanessa smiled. “I have to go find my husband. Our babysitter charges by the
half hour
. I’m pretty sure we’ve paid for her college by now.”

After a round of good-byes and a promise to get Vanessa’s phone number to set up brunch—people still ate brunch?—she was alone with Chad again.