The Player Next Door by Kathy Lyons Page B

rocked your world when actually you were off thinking about Hindu gods or something.”
    Damn. He was smarter than she’d ever guessed. And she just wasn’t up to faking it with him. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
    He leaned forward, nuzzling along her neck, his words a low rumble against her skin. “Maybe you need to let me try.” He licked the skin just behind her ear and she shivered. “Don’t worry,” he said as his large right hand squeezed her thigh. “I’m just getting the lay of the land here. We’re not even close to the main event.”
    “But that’s the problem,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed as she felt his breath heat where he’d nibbled. “I’m not made for long games. It’s not your fault—”
    “It’s nobody’s fault, Tori.” He pulled back enough that he looked directly into her eyes. “It’s just a new challenge, that’s all.”
    His hand slid up underneath her shorts. His fingers were long as they kneaded higher and higher on her thighs. God that felt good. Really good.
    She wondered how she was going to get her shorts off. Did she push his hands away now? Did she unbutton the jeans or should she start to undress him?
    “Tori,” he whispered, and her eyes abruptly riveted back on his.
    Oh shit. Her mind had wandered off again. Jesus, she was terrible at this.
    “Don’t think so much,” he said.
    “Easy for you to say.”
    “Look into my eyes.”
    She was. She had been. Oh wait, maybe she hadn’t been. She frowned, trying to think.
    He quickly nipped her nose, then moved back such that she looked right into his eyes. “Whenever you leave me, your eyes slide away. Forget the not lying rule. My one rule is this: you look at me.”
    “I was.”
    “Look directly into my eyes and I’ll look straight into yours. We’re going to hold this connection the whole time.”
    “The whole time?” She wasn’t sure that was possible.
    “It’s a challenge, Tori. Aren’t you up for it?”
    No. Yes. Maybe. Taunting never worked on her. She lived too much in her own world to allow silly tricks like that to influence her choices. And yet suddenly she was feeling competitive. She wanted to prove to him that she could do so simple a thing. At least she could do it longer than he could.
    So she lifted her chin. “Fine,” she whispered. “Have it your way. I won’t lie to you. I’ll look you in the eye the whole time. And when the whole experience sucks, I’m not going to sugarcoat it.”
    He grinned as if she’d just given him a championship trophy. “Game on.” And then he scooped her up in his good arm. Or at least he tried to. Mostly he was pulling her tight against him while she was busy squeaking in alarm. She instinctively grabbed his shoulders. His broad, strong, muscular shoulders. Nice. But she’d broken eye contact.
    Shit.
    “That doesn’t count,” she said. “You surprised me.”
    He adjusted her easily in his grip such that they were eye to eye. “Fair enough,” he said. “Now is the bed clear or is there bad stuff under all those clothes? I can’t see around the boxes.”
    Right. Looking around, she remembered her bedroom was a disaster. Half-unpacked boxes everywhere, the clothes her sister had forced on her were on the bed, and God only knew what else was strewn about the floor. “Um, the bed’s clear. Just clothes.”
    “Do you mind if we wrinkle them?”
    She grinned at the idea of exactly what her sister would say to that. “Not in the least.”
    “Excellent. And you need to look at me, remember?”
    Damn it. “You weren’t looking at me,” she said defensively.
    “I was making sure not to accidentally shove you against that box of…spoons?”
    “My aunt’s collection. I’m packing it up for Goodwill. They’re supposed to be valuable but I’m not sure I have the patience to sell them.”
    He set her gently back against the bed. She was the one who collapsed onto the mattress while he dropped to his knees before her. He was