by Julie Benson
For a minute, he rested his head against the cool wooden door and tried to decide what to do. He wasn’t in the mood for games, and this chick played more than the Colorado Rockies baseball team.
This week he swore Jasmine had grown an extra set of hands. Fast hands, to boot. So quick she should be a dealer on the Strip. He would no sooner remove the hand traveling up his thigh toward his groin, when she slid her other hand inside his shirt. The sex talk she whispered in his ear was so explicit, he blushed. But the more obvious her ploys to seduce him became, the more bored he grew. Now that Maggie had given him the okay, he’d slotted Jasmine for elimination tomorrow.
She yelled again, slurring his name to an unrecognizable gurgle. Griffin shook his head. He hated dealing with drunken women, but if he didn’t let her in someone was bound to call the police. He opened the door a crack and peered outside. “Darlin’, it’s the middle of the night.”
Light from the foyer spilled onto the porch, illuminating her. She wobbled as she opened her trench coat, revealing nothing underneath but a well-toned body.
Who’d have ever figured that when a naked woman showed up on his doorstep, his first thought would be how to get rid of her, instead of a quick thank-you that Christmas had arrived early?
Before he could say anything else, she dropped the coat. “Let’s party.”
Lights flicked on in the house across the street. Griffin threw open the door, yanked Jasmine inside, scooped up her coat and slammed the door behind him. He could see the headlines now. Finding Mrs. Right Bachelor and Naked Bachelorette Ticketed for Disturbing the Peace.
Maggie would skin him alive.
He’d barely shut the door and turned around before the cheerleader launched herself at him. As he caught her, the smell of alcohol almost choked him. Then she rained practiced kisses down his neck and nipped his skin. Despite her expertise, his body failed to respond.
“It’s been a long day. I’m all partied out.”
“Then I’ll do all the work.”
She reached for his jeans, and before he could stop her, she’d undone the button on his fly and grabbed his zipper. How could someone in her condition manage to find, much less work, a button and zipper? He placed his hand over hers.
“You don’t want me?”
Anger flashed in her eyes. Her hand tightened on his groin. He sucked in a harsh breath. Damn, the woman had a strong grip. One wrong word and he’d be seeing stars, and not in a good way. Desperate to get out of this mess with his body parts intact, he said, “Honey, let go. My eyes are watering, and I’m about to become a soprano.”
“We don’t want that.” Her high-pitched giggle scraped his frayed nerves raw.
Jasmine’s hand loosened, and his heart rate started to return to normal as he stepped out of reach. “I don’t want us getting caught here. There’s a hotel not far away. How about we go there? No one will interrupt us, and we’ll have as much time as we want.” If she bought that, he could call her a cab—he sure as hell didn’t want her driving—and get her somewhere to sleep it off. Alone.
“I don’t wanna wait. Where’s the bedroom?”
As she stumbled off, someone else knocked on the door. The place was becoming as crowded as a Bronco game during playoffs. He pointed to the right. “That’s my room. Go in there, and be quiet.” With any luck she’d crawl onto the bed and pass out.
As Griffin waited for the bedroom door to close behind her, he glanced out the peephole. Maggie. Once again he rested his head against the wood in frustration. He’d dreamed of having two women at once, but he didn’t think this would turn out like his fantasies.
“Maggie, it’s two in the morning.” He opened the door a crack and squinted, as if the light bothered his eyes because he’d been sound asleep. “What’s up?”
“Word is our cheerleader was headed here.”
Remembering his contract prohibited contact outside the show, he said, “Either your information’s wrong or she changed her mind.”
Maggie glanced over his shoulder. He forced himself not to follow her gaze.
Stay calm. You can win with a good bluff.
She pointed behind him. “Whose trench coat is that on the floor?”
“Mine.”
She quirked an eyebrow. Most times he admired her tenacious nature, but tonight that characteristic could be his undoing. “It looks a little small for you.”
“It must’ve shrunk when I washed it.”
How lame was that? He should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Maggie shook her head, her eyes brimming with doubt. “If that’s the best story you can come up with, I’m disappointed. Now, where is she?”
So much for winning with a good bluff.
“Griffin, I’m tired of waiting for you.” He turned. Jasmine stood behind them, wearing his brown, snap-front shirt. At least she had on more clothes than when she’d gone into his bedroom.
“You lied to me.” Maggie’s words sliced through him.
“It’s not what you think,” Griffin protested. “I didn’t tell you because I had the situation under control.”
Then he stopped. He hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t even considered doing anything but get rid of the woman. Why should he care? Let Maggie think the worst.
“Imagine that! It’s Little Miss Goody Two-shoes.” The cheerleader weaved toward them, a whiff of tequila reaching them before she did.
Maggie stared past Griffin to Jasmine. “We’ll discuss this in the morning, but right now you need to leave.”
Ignoring her, the bachelorette caressed his thighs. When she tried to kiss him, he turned his head. “Griffin, tell Cruella de Vil to go away. Then we can have some fun.”
Maggie stiffened. Trying to ignore her evil eye, Griffin seized Jasmine by the shoulders and peeled her off him. Why was Maggie mad at him? This wasn’t his fault.
“Fun’s over. I’m calling you a cab.” Maggie pulled her cell phone out of her purse.
Jasmine’s eyes narrowed. If looks could kill, Maggie’s brothers would be picking out her casket tomorrow.
“You’re just jealous because I can get a man and you can’t.”
Hurt, deep and raw, flashed in Maggie’s eyes before she controlled the emotion.
Griffin picked up the trench coat and shoved the garment into Jasmine’s hands. “It’s time to go.”
“What about your shirt?” She reached for the snaps, but he placed his hand on hers.
“Keep it.” The cheerleader hadn’t put on the coat, but at this point he didn’t care. He wanted her gone. He glanced at Maggie. Her lips were pinched into a thin line, her eyes blazing, and she looked about ready to explode.
“You can’t make me leave,” Jasmine taunted, staring at Maggie.
“She might not, but I can and will,” Griffin said, the force in his voice surprising everyone, even him.
That finally subdued Jasmine. The three of them stood in silence, Maggie staring out the window, watching for the cab. When it arrived minutes later, Jasmine tossed Griffin one last leer and a parting shot. “You’re missing out.”
He’d never expected to be grateful seeing a gorgeous woman walk out the door, especially one who’d showed up darn near naked and primed for pretty much anything he could dream up. But as Jasmine had pressed her skin to his and whispered what she’d wanted to do to him, Griffin had felt…nothing. Not even a twinge of desire. If anything, he’d been turned off by her little game.
He’d thought being surrounded for weeks by beautiful women, most of them offering to do the most provocative things to and with him, would’ve sent his hormones and his imagination into overdrive. But like everything else on the show, that hadn’t gone as expected. The open invitations had the opposite effect on his libido. For him, apparently, half the fun was the hunt, as Maggie’s studies claimed.
Maggie. Every time he talked with a bachelorette he compared the conversation to his ones with her. He continually asked himself what she would’ve said or done. He fo
und chatting with the women on the show predictable and boring. None of them challenged him as Maggie did.
That scared the hell out of him.
“She actually made it into the cab.” Maggie faced him. “I gather you didn’t get my message saying not to let her in.”
“I heard my phone ring, but my hands were full at the time. Do you want a drink? I could use one.”
“Why’d you open the door?”
“Is that a no on the drink?” he asked as he headed for the kitchen.
“Wait. We need to discuss this.”
“Not until I have a beer.” First he’d been pawed by a drunk, and now he had to face Maggie’s interrogation. Maybe he should call Coors and have them send over a truckful.
Maggie’s tennis shoes squeaked on the tile floor as she followed him into the kitchen, where he went straight to the refrigerator. Once there, he pointed to a wine rack in the corner. “I’m not a wine fan, but it looks like I’ve got a great selection. If you’ve changed your mind about a drink, help yourself.” Then he reached into the fridge, pulled out a beer, popped the top and took a long swallow.
Every time Jasmine had tossed out a come-on and caressed him, he’d thought about how Maggie didn’t play games, and when she said something, he could count on it being the truth. Now when women pulled those feminine tricks, they shone like the neon signs lighting up the Las Vegas night—blinding and impossible to miss.
None of those things had bothered him before he met Maggie. His right eye twitched and he resisted the urge to reach up and massage it. How had she gotten under his skin enough to spoil his fun?
“I have to ask. Did you give her your address?” Maggie’s keen gaze stared straight through him. How could she make him want to squirm, when he’d done nothing wrong?
“Do you think I’m that desperate to get laid?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she stated as she circled the room.
“I shouldn’t have to.” I thought you knew me better than that. Did she really think he possessed the morals of a toad?
Maggie paused at the wine rack, having changed her mind, and grabbed a bottle. Without checking the label, she handed it to Griffin. “I’ll take a glass, after all.”
After opening the bottle of red wine, he poured her a hefty dose. “It’s cabernet, by the way, in case you care.”
She took a quick sip, barely tasting it, and resumed pacing, her fingers clenched around the glass stem. Why couldn’t he see what he’d done? How poorly he’d handled the situation?
“You’ll break that if you hold it any tighter.”
“Why did you let her in? Why didn’t you tell her to go away? Why didn’t you call—”
“If you want me to answer, Maggie, you’ll have to take a break between questions.” He pulled out a bar stool. “Sit.”
“I don’t appreciate you issuing commands, like I was a puppy,” she snapped on her third lap around the kitchen.
“I’m sorry. Please have a seat. I’m willing to talk about this, but you’re making me dizzy.”
She stopped, and considered protesting again, mainly out of spite, but decided to comply with his request.
“Why are you so quick to assume the worst?” he asked. “Is it me, or are you this tough on all men?”
That stung. Was she harder on him than on the other bachelors she’d worked with? No, she just called him on his stunts. “What bothers you is that I have expectations and hold you to them. I don’t let you skate through life on your good looks.”
His face tight with anger, his posture stiff, Griffin said, “I let Jasmine in because she was drunk. When I didn’t open the door at first, she started screaming my name. If I hadn’t dragged her inside the neighbors would’ve called the police.”
Maggie hadn’t thought of that. In her business they claimed any publicity was good publicity, but she wasn’t sure having the police arrive, to find a naked bachelorette at Griffin’s house, would turn out well. Maggie’s anger dissipated and the tightness in her shoulders eased. “Thank you for that. We can’t afford to alienate the neighbors.”
“I must’ve heard you wrong, because that sounded like an apology.”
“Why’s that so hard to believe?”
“Most women I know aren’t so quick to admit a mistake.”
“Once again, that doesn’t speak well of the ones you know.” Maggie cleared her throat and directed the conversation back to tonight’s incident. “Hopefully, nothing like this will happen again, but if it does, call me. It’s my job to manage problems. And just so you know, I’ll be putting Jasmine on a plane tomorrow.”
“That seems a little harsh, considering the state of the world.”
“While we realize that on some of the destination dates, the couple could…” Maggie blushed.
“Yes?” Griffin taunted, obviously enjoying seeing her squirm.
“While we realize the couple may become intimate, it’s in the bachelorette contract that they’re not to have contact with you outside of the arranged dates. If they do, they’re in breach of contract and must leave immediately.”
“You don’t mind us doing the deed. You just want it to happen during a date? Isn’t that hypocritical?”
Maggie flinched. She thought the show’s whole premise was hypocritical, but once again she spouted the party line. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. If we allowed contact outside of scheduled date times, people would complain the show was unfair.”
“Because with the scripting, telling me who to keep around and for how long, it’s so fair now.”
“By the way, your contract states you are not to have any contact with bachelorettes outside of date times, either.”
“Believe it or not, I read my contract and the information you gave me. And contrary to what you may think, I don’t sleep with every woman within a fifty-foot radius.”
“Just every attractive woman.”
He downed the rest of his beer. “Why do you ride me so hard?”
“I’m sorry I overreacted. I was frustrated about having to deal with this, and I took it out on you,” Maggie admitted.
Griffin didn’t seem upset that she’d spoiled his tryst with the cheerleader. Bit maybe he was just placating her. A little voice inside her laughed at the uncertainty.
He helped get rid of the cheerleader because he couldn’t salvage the situation. He sided with you to get out of trouble. After all, Griffin played women like Maggie played chess—efficiently and with determination. But he was smart enough to know when he’d lost the game.
“Let’s have some fun, Maggie.”
She froze, startled by the abrupt change in their conversation. Fun? She remembered the cheerleader saying she and Griffin could have some fun. Hopefully, he didn’t mean that. “Excuse me?”
“I want to forget about what happened tonight. I’m tired of being on camera and thinking about every word I say. I have a roomful of video games, but no one to play with.”
She swallowed hard as her pulse spiked. “Playing with him” brought an array of intoxicating images to mind, revolving around her wearing nothing but a trench coat and high heels, and playing a different kind of game.
Maggie inhaled and counted to ten, while trying to locate her willpower and slow her heart rate—and stop the fantasizing about Griffin. She glanced at him. Impossible. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d still dream about him.
“Right now all I want to do is put my feet up and beat the tar outta someone at Super Smash Bros. Brawl, and you’re the lucky opponent.”
When she hesitated, he continued. “Come on. Be a pal.”
He saw her as a friend, while she’d created a vivid fantasy life around him. How sad was that? She’d heard similar comments before, had grown accustomed to them, or so she’d thought.
His invitation meant nothing.
Stay, her little voice chided. There was nothing to worry about, and when would she get a chance to spend time alone with Griffin again?
Once in the game room, they sank onto the leather couch. When she chose King Dedede for her character, he said, “You don’t want to be one of the princesses?”
“That’s not my style. King Dedede looks like a penguin, and I love penguins.”
Griffin chose Captain Falcon because it reminded him of Captain Solo on the Millennium Falcon. They started out with a coin battle. Maggie’s character pummeled Griffin’s, sending coins flying everywhere. She scooped them up until halfway through the game she held a good lead, while Griffin stewed and complained.
“I’m going to catch up, you know,” he said.
“You think you can surprise me with a great comeback? Not hardly. I’m ahead by one hundred coins.”
His eyes widened, and then that patented to-die-for smile spread across his face, revealing his dimples. He leaned closer. “Maggie, I could surprise you in ways you’ve never imagined.”
She bet he could. No doubt about it.
Her palms grew sweaty. Her body tingled. Heat rushed to places she’d forgotten existed. Say something. Break the spell before things go any further. “Then I’ll have to put you in your place.”
His grin widened. Extremely poor choice of words. An image of him above her flashed in her mind. “I meant I’ll put you in your place by beating you at the game.”
“You are not going to beat me.”
“What’s the big deal? You worried that if you lose they’ll revoke your man card?”
His eyes darkened as his gaze swept over her. Fireworks burst through her body.
“That’s it, Maggie girl. I warned you about questioning my manhood again.”
Chapter Ten
Maggie held her breath as Griffin’s hand slipped behind her neck and drew her toward him. His lips covered hers, lightly at first, but the minute his arms tightened around her waist, she started sinking. Lightning shot through her, scorching her from the inside out. He deepened the kiss and molded her against his strong body.
“You’ve been keeping secrets, Maggie girl.”
