Page 60 of Player For Hire

She paused in the doorway, looking uncertain. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

I tipped my head back and fisted my hands before I returned to her and invaded her space. “It’s not you.”

She craned her head back to meet my gaze. “You sure about that?”

I cupped her elbows and lifted her onto her toes and kissed her. It was hard and a step away from brutal. Because she made me a little insane and I didn’t know what to do with that emotion. I’d only been with her once, for fuck’s sake. Why was she under my skin like this already? And why was it pissing me off so much?

She moaned into my mouth and my dick instantly went on alert. It wanted her. There was no doubt about that one. Hell, the man wanted her too—but not as a fucking lesson.

That was the problem.

And not part of the deal with her.

I pulled away and set her down. “I’m just out of sorts today. I don’t want to take it out on you.”Her lips were soft and swollen and a hot memory of her looking up at me after she sucked me off blindsided me.

What the hell was this girl doing to me?

Her brow was furrowed, but class wasn’t in fucking session, and I didn’t need to explain myself to her just yet.

“I’ll see you for the Sunday festivities.”

“Okay.”

I turned and headed across the street to the median and took off on a jog. It was generally a walking path, but it would do to get me going. The mist felt good on my face and the cobblestone was uneven, requiring me to focus. Instead of the easy start to a run, I pushed myself harder and took a turn onto Hyde Street. The burn of the incline cleared my head.

The mist turned into rain as I pulled my headphones out of my pocket and put on my running playlist. The heavy rock beat evened me out and the mindless slap of my feet on pavement put me the rest of the way there.

When I got to the top of the hill, I headed to the right to do a full circle of the block. I’d taken this route enough times to know it was an easy three miles and would hopefully kill the rest of my asshole mood.

By the time I got back to Kensington Boulevard, my chest was heaving from my pace. I’d done the three miles in way less time than normal even with the rain slashing at me.

Working off extreme sexual frustration burned a ton of calories. And not only that. She created a whole shitstorm of emotions in me.

When I pushed through the door into the lobby Davis was gone, and the television was set to the trivia program we used.

The usual suspects were already gathered, and the coffee station was stocked with sodas and snacks. A handful of my fellow residents were already grabbing spots on the couch. Amberly and Dahlia were chatting with their girl plates full of cheese and fruit on their laps.

A half dozen bottles of wine were lined up thanks to Iona, who was already filling her own tumbler with red wine. Eli had brought down a cooler of beer. Callahan was passing outa bunch of small notepads that we used for the games.

He always came over to play even though he didn’t live in the building. Most of the time, he was actually the headmaster of trivia Sunday. He had a helluva competitive streak.

More people would filter in before we started in an hour. Including my brother, who would be bringing the food today.

Iona was alone, which set my gut to twisting again. I waved to her and headed for the elevator. I needed a quick shower and to change before I was human enough for people.

When the elevator got to my floor, it opened to Naomi. She was wearing a Syracuse University sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants that shouldn’t have made my blood heat. Especially paired with the two buns high on either side of her head.

For fuck’s sake, there was a pencil sticking out of one of them. She looked unfocused and a bit off-balanced.

And sexy as hell.

“Hey. Sorry, I was writing and didn’t realize how late it was.” She tucked a tendril around her ear that had fallen out of her messy hair situation.

I cleared my dust-dry throat. “You’re not late.”

“Iona’s texted me three times to get my ass in gear.”

I pulled her into the elevator. “What has you so distracted?” Instead of letting the doors shut, I leaned on the open button.