Punishing The Players (Spiritual Discipline Book 1)

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Punishing The Players (Spiritual Discipline Book 1) Page 3

by Ivy Barrett


  They hadn’t spoken for at least six months, so he wasn’t sure which project she meant. “What was I working on last time we talked?”

  “Some sort of file sharing application. It sounded very cloak and dagger.” She paused on her front porch and looked at him, a faint smile curving her lips. “Did everything turn out all right?”

  Thick lashes framed her leaf-green eyes, accenting the rich color. There were no shadows in her gaze, no deception or secrets. He was drawn to her candor. So many of the people he interacted with had ulterior motives. Honesty was refreshing.

  “Uncle Sam was pleased and even indicated a willingness to use me for future projects. No need to waste a security clearance.”

  “Security clearance? What exactly did the program do?” Her hand rested on the screen door’s handle, but she didn’t pull it open.

  “They needed a secure way of transmitting files to remote and hostile locations, so I created a randomly modulating algorithm that ensured the security of their documents.”

  “They didn’t trust cloud storage sites?”

  “This is the Department of Defense we’re talking about.”

  “Good point.” She opened the door, then paused again. “What are you working on now?”

  “A game, of course.” He chuckled. “I want to create the next Angry Birds.”

  “You and every programmer on the planet.” She softened the comment with a smile then stepped across the threshold. “Had any luck?”

  “Some.” He followed her into the house. He’d launched three games in the past two years and all three had been downloaded several million times. Still, he didn’t like to brag. He’d always found it more productive to let people draw their own conclusions.

  Though neat and clean, the living room was rather cluttered and hopelessly small. Built-in bookshelves flanked the fireplace and a modest flat screen TV had been mounted above the mantle. The sofa and matching recliner were showing signs of wear. He’d often wondered how she afforded to live in Washington Park on an x-ray technician’s salary.

  “How long have you lived here?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but couldn’t contain his curiosity.

  “My mother was born here.” She laughed at his startled expression. “Not literally. My grandparents were the original owners. Mom lived in Tennessee for most of her life, but I moved back to Colorado when I was fourteen.”

  “That explains it,” he muttered under his breath.

  “That explains what?”

  Annoyance crept into her tone, so he decided not to admit he’d been contemplating her finances. He didn’t care if her money was earned or inherited or embezzled. He was just detail oriented and incongruities bothered him. “It explains why you seem so protective of the neighborhood.” He glanced at her to make sure she’d bought the excuse and found her arms folded and her brows arched.

  “Are you calling me a busybody?”

  “Hardly.” He fought back a smile. Maybe discussing her finances would have been a better option. He spent far more time watching her than she spent watching him. “Mrs. Alton, down the street, has earned that distinction. I swear she spends her entire day staring out her front window or pretending to water her plants.”

  Without commenting on his observation, she led him down a narrow hallway and into the kitchen at the back of the house. The counters formed an open U, flowing into the adjoining eating area. A round table and four chairs took up the majority of the space, but the overall effect was warm and inviting.

  “Do you approve?”

  Her teasing tone drew his attention away from their surroundings and back to the woman in front of him. “Sorry.” He shook away the distraction. “I’ve never been beyond your front door before.”

  She smiled and leaned her hip against the edge of the counter. “Now you’ve seen more of me than I’ve seen of you.”

  The sensual purr in her voice caught him by surprise. Was she flirting with him? Katie never flirted with anyone. She was always polite, occasionally friendly, but he’d never seen her flirt. “Anytime you’re ready to see more, just let me know.” The reply sprang automatically to his lips, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was...off. “Are you still working at the Franklin Building?”

  “I transferred to St. Joseph’s last year, but it’s basically the same complex.”

  “Still doing x-rays?”

  “I’m a radiologic technologist, not an x-ray technician. That means I can do x-rays, ultrasounds, CT scans and MRIs.”

  He held up his hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “Sorry.” She sighed. “I didn’t mean to sound so defensive. I’m just having a bad day.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can get your day back on track.”

  She pivoted toward the sink and motioned to the open cupboard beneath. She’d moved the cleaning supplies and storage bags to the countertop and spread a towel beneath the pipes. “It’s all yours.”

  KATIE WATCHED AS JOSIAH sat on the floor and leaned in under the sink. His body was long and lean and he seemed more relaxed than she remembered. She still wasn’t sure why Fyn had suggested this scenario. He’d said Josiah wanted to feel like a hero, that he wanted to rush in and rescue her. Did unhooking a drainpipe qualify as a rescue? It seemed unlikely that this would lead to anything romantic.

  No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than she heard a strange hiss.

  “What the fu—?” Josiah jerked out of the way, then twisted out from under the sink. Water sprayed out in a fan shape, soaking his face and chest before he could retreat beyond its reach.

  Katie knelt beside him and tried to locate the source of the sudden deluge. “I turned the water off. Honest, I did.”

  He reached over her, his chest pressed against her back. He quickly turned the valve one way and then the other, but there was no result. “Where’s the main shutoff?”

  “In the basement.” She jumped up and dashed toward the basement door, her feet sliding on the wet floor.

  “Careful,” he called, obviously watching her.

  She ran down the stairs and frantically shut the master valve. “Did that do it?” She projected her voice toward the stairwell.

  “We’re good.”

  She returned to the kitchen with more caution, not wanting to slip on the wet floor. “Let me get you a towel. I’m so sorry about this.” She ran into the guest bath and snatched the two decorative towels off the rack by the bathtub. When she returned to the kitchen, he’d peeled off his shirt and was drying his face with the damp cloth. “Here.” She handed him one of the towels, trying not to stare at his toned torso. Chase frequently walked around shirtless, but this was the first time she’d seen Josiah’s chest. And what a chest it was. His muscles were well-defined yet lean. He was sleek and sexy, like a runner or a dancer.

  His lips slowly parted as he noticed her appreciative stare. “Now you’ve seen more of me than I’ve seen of you.” He dried off, then set the towel aside, his gaze never leaving her face. “Do you need some help?”

  He moved forward and she moved back. Fyn had warned her not to give in too easily. This was a game to Josiah. It was all about the chase. He backed her against the counter without actually touching her. Then he reached behind her and slowly dragged the fastener from around her ponytail. His gaze bore into hers as he took the nearly forgotten towel from her hand and gently stroked her face.

  Awareness swirled around them like currents of electricity. Her chest felt heavy and her skin tingled. Was he going to kiss her or just tease her with the towel then move away? He dried her face and arms before moving on to her hair. Each movement brought their bodies closer until their hips were flush and she could feel the heat of his bare chest.

  He set the towel on the counter, then slowly reached for the hem of her wet top. Rather than pull it off, as she’d expected, he slipped his hands beneath. His fingers were warm against her chilly skin and a muffled groan rumbled in her throat
.

  “Show me what you try so hard to hide,” he whispered as his hands drifted up and down her sides.

  She shook her head, tension making her almost giddy. “This isn’t why—”

  He cut off her words with his mouth. His lips forced hers apart, but his tongue only teased, rimming her lips and tracing her teeth without thrusting deeper. She moved her head to a better angle and encouraged his tongue with hers. He tasted of coffee and desire and something uniquely him.

  For five years she’d imagined what it would be like to touch him and be touched by him. She’d alternated between Chase and Josiah when she formed her fantasies. And when she felt particularly naughty, she’d imagine having them both focused on her, wanting only her.

  He moved one hand to her hair, his fingers loosely fisting the damp strands as he took the kiss deeper. His tongue pushed into her mouth and his taste grew stronger, each element more distinct. Then he pulled back. His breath caressed her damp lips as he whispered, “Show me.”

  It was an order this time and his tone growled, sending excitement skittering through her body. Instinctively she’d known he’d be like this, confident and demanding. He freed her for a moment so she could comply. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt, then shook her head. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  One of is dark brows arched in silent challenge before he subtly changed tactics. “Raise your arms.”

  Unsure she should give in at all, she slowly obeyed. He drew her top upward, momentarily blinding her before he tossed the sodden fabric aside. Her bra was damp too, her nipples pebbled beneath the lacy cups. He reached for the front clasp, but she caught his wrists. “Don’t. I mean it. I’m not having sex with you.”

  He chuckled then pulled her closer. “Fine, Katie-cat. We’ll just play.”

  She started to tell him she didn’t like nicknames, but his mouth returned to hers and his arms wrapped around her body. He was warm and strong, and God did he know how to kiss. She relaxed in his embrace and focused on the sensual slide of his lips and tongue. Her body warmed and began to ache, but she knew better than giving in to her desire. If she went to bed with him now, the game would be over. His quarry would be caught and he would have learned nothing.

  For a while he seemed content to kiss her. She stubbornly held her needs in check and waited for his patience to elapse. He stroked her back and teased the outer swell of her breasts. Each touch was gentle, featherlight and transitory. One of his hands returned to her hair as he leaned back, separating their bodies. His other hand swept downward along her ribs and across her belly, drawing tingles deeper into her abdomen. He eased his fingertips inside her pants and she tore her mouth away from his.

  “I think you should go.” With a firm grasp on his forearm, she moved his hand away.

  “Is Chase right? Are you still a virgin?”

  There was no scorn in his tone, just honest curiosity. Still her cheeks burned and she disentangled his fingers from her hair then scurried out of reach. “Any woman that won’t sleep with you must be a terrified virgin? Do you realize how arrogant that sounds?”

  He chuckled and ran one hand through his damp hair. “Indulge me. Are you a virgin?”

  “No.” She drew her hair forward, wishing it were long enough to hide the distinct peaks of her nipples. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  His gaze swept down her torso, then back to her face. “Then why do you hide a figure like that under baggy clothes?”

  “So assholes like you can keep their eyes on my face.”

  He laughed, unfazed by her annoyance. “I suppose I had that coming, but I won’t apologize for the kiss. I’ve wanted to do that ever since I moved in.”

  She didn’t believe a word of it thanks to Fyn’s warning.

  Josiah motioned toward the sink. “The damage is already done. Do you want me to leave or see if I can get your ring out?”

  As she rubbed her arms with a sigh, her awkwardness returned with a vengeance. “Try the pipe. I’ll go get a mop.” She hustled from the kitchen and ran upstairs, more than ready for dry clothes. Her bra was damp, so she unfastened it and let the straps slip down her arms. If it hadn’t been for Fyn, she’d be naked and writhing beneath Josiah right now. Her pussy clenched and her heart ached. It had been so long since she’d lost herself in passion, so long since she’d felt desirable. Dillon, her ex, had convinced her that men were more trouble than they were worth and she’d yet to meet a man—or men—to prove her conclusion wrong.

  Josiah’s attraction to you isn’t real. He’s trying to win a bet. The reminder shouldn’t have been necessary, but the tantalizing images wouldn’t leave her mind. She saw him kneeling between her thighs, his hands clasping her hips as he drove his cock deep into her body. It didn’t matter that her senses had come alive with the first brush of his lips. She would not be a pawn in a competition between friends. She thought more of herself than amusing two selfish men.

  With her determination firmly restored, she found a clean bra and a dry T-shirt. Her scrub bottoms were damp on one side, but she shrugged it off and donned the other garments. When she returned to the kitchen she found Josiah seated at the kitchen table. How could he look so comfortable while he was still half naked?

  “I thought you were going to get a mop.” Amusement made his lips twitch but he didn’t quite smile. Then he held up her ring and looked into her eyes. “Do you forgive me for upsetting you?”

  She took the ring from his outstretched hand and slipped onto the chair beside him. “I’m not upset and thank you for this.” She slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her right hand. Though not expensive, it once belonged to her beloved grandmother so Katie treasured it.

  “Can I ask a question without making you angry?”

  “I won’t know until I hear the question.” She looked everywhere but at his bare chest, not trusting herself to remain calm in the face of all that toned flesh. Even knowing he was manipulating her, she wanted to straddle his lap and pick up where they’d left off.

  “Why do you spend so much time alone?”

  She looked at him, stubbornly keeping her gaze focused on his face. “What makes you think I’m alone a lot?”

  “My office window faces the street. I can’t help but notice things.”

  “Such as?” She’d always thought he was oblivious to her. It was nice to know she wasn’t completely invisible. Still, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him watching her, analyzing her habits.

  “Your life is extremely regimented. You leave for work at 7:30 each morning and return at 5:00, give or take ten minutes. You’re always alone. When’s the last time another person set foot in this house?”

  “Besides today?”

  “I don’t count.” He finally smiled and his dark gaze warmed. “I’m just the nosy neighbor.”

  “This is my private sanctuary.” She did her best to sound convincing, but his doubtful expression made it clear she was failing. “Just because I don’t bring my dates home doesn’t mean I don’t date.”

  “When’s the last time you went on a date?” His tone was gently challenging.

  “As a matter of fact, I had lunch with someone just a few hours ago.” It wasn’t an outright lie, more like a distortion of the truth.

  “Really?” He folded his arms and tilted his head, clearly amused by her claim. “Tell me about him. Where did you meet? Was this your first date? Are you going to see him again?”

  “Why do you care?” Too anxious to sit, she pushed back her chair and stood. “My social life has nothing to do with you.”

  “Maybe I’d like to change that.”

  “No you wouldn’t. Your social life is even less eventful than mine. Every week or so you have a booty call, but it’s seldom the same person and you never bother leaving the house with any of them.” He stood as well and stalked toward her. This time she didn’t back down.

  “See. We’re perfect for each other. You’ve spent as much time spying on me as I’ve sp
ent spying on you. I say we stop fantasizing about each other and try it for real.”

  “I will not be your biweekly booty call.”

  He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck then used his thumb to tilt her face up until their gazes locked. “What are you so afraid of?”

  Telling him was far more tempting than it should have been. The truth was humiliating and painful. Why would she even consider confiding something so personal in someone like Josiah? “You don’t want to know all my dirty little secrets. You want to get in my pants.”

  He chuckled and slowly lowered his hand. “I definitely want to get in your pants, but that’s not all I want. I want to be your friend as well as your lover.”

  She sighed. He was harder to resist than she’d anticipated. Knowing his true motivation should have been enough to protect her from his skillful come-ons. So why did she find herself liking him? “Let’s start with friendship and see where that leads. But I’ll warn you now, I’m a hard person to get to know.”

  He winked at her, dark eyes gleaming. “I look forward to the challenge.”

  Chapter Two

  Katie dug her cell phone out of her purse and called Fyn as soon as Josiah left. Her kitchen was trashed and her legs felt like Jell-O. And worst of all, she honestly wasn’t sure who’d won the round. Josiah had returned home without seeing her naked, so she supposed that was a victory. Still, his kiss left her feeling achy and restless.

  “Hey, Kat.” Fyn’s voice sounded clear and casual, which only accented her agitation. “How’d it go?”

  She cringed at the diminutive. Dillon had called her Kat and now hurt and anger tagged along every time she heard the nickname. Yet Josiah had called her Katie-cat and she’d barely registered the reaction. She’d started to object out of habit, not any real hurt. Maybe Katie-cat was just different enough that the nickname didn’t bother her, or maybe anything sounded good when Josiah whispered it in that sensual purr.

  “Katie, not Kat.” Josiah might be able to get away with a nickname, but Fyn had bigger questions to answer. “How the hell did you trigger the leak? There is no way you’re going to convince me that was a coincidence.”

 

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