The Playboy Bachelor

by Lynn Burke

  We collapsed in a boneless heap, and the thought, “I could get used to this,” flitted through my brain. I bit the inside of my lip to keep a smile subdued.

  Trouble. Absolute, delicious trouble.

  Heart be damned. I hadn’t gotten enough of Blake Harper, and if Reid came along with the package on occasion, all the better.

  I gave in, lowering my shields, allowing myself to be vulnerable. Time to enjoy, soak the attention in.

  ****

  I woke, sprawled on my stomach and alone. Grabbing up Blake’s shirt from the night before off the floor, I started toward the bedroom’s open door, each step bringing a wince from the ache between my legs and ass cheeks. I tugged the shirt on overhead, the cotton material falling to mid-thigh.

  The scent of coffee hit me as I stepped into the open condo. A quick scan to the right revealed an empty living room. I shifted my attention to the left.

  Reid leaned against the kitchen counter, lounge pants slung low on his hips, the V of his muscles disappearing into the waistband rivaling Blake’s for lickable worthiness.

  My mouth dried.

  “Morning,” he said, voice raspy from sleep.

  “Hey.” I shuffled toward him as he poured me a steaming cup. “Where’s Blake?” I asked, a flush of arousal settling between my legs as our fingers brushed. I lifted the mug for a sip.

  Reid turned to pour himself more coffee. “He had a meeting.”

  My brow furrowed. “On a Sunday morning?”

  “He said he’d give you a call.”

  Huh. All pleasant tingles from Reid’s nearness disappeared. I sipped again.

  “I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready,” he said before I had a chance to ask when Blake would be back.

  “Oh. Sure.” I put the coffee down on the counter and turned toward the bedroom so he wouldn’t see the disappointment in my eyes. “I have to study for this week’s finals anyway,” I said, my voice revealing my thickening throat.

  Reid didn’t say a word.

  Blake

  I hated leaving my condo, but I’d promised to meet some business associates and investors for eighteen holes before that night’s charity event. A full day of schmoozing and smiling for the cameras sure to be clicking away at the high society event. I would much rather have spent the morning with Wren, waking her with my stubble scraping along her inner thighs, her sweet creamy scent flooding my mouth with saliva.

  My golf partners spilled out of their carts, a few already tipsy and we’d only gotten through three holes. Thinking I would text Wren to let her know I was thinking about her, I reached for my cell. It wasn’t in my back pocket.

  “What the fuck?” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. I’d been late and in such a rush to get out of the condo, that I’d left the thing on the kitchen counter. “Fuck.”

  There wouldn’t be time for me to drive the hour home and back again before the evening’s festivities. I would just have to wait until the morning for our breakfast picnic to tell her how much I’d enjoyed our night together, how I wanted to do it again. And, again.

  “Your shot, Harper!” someone hollered, and I forced a grin, wishing I had woken Wren before leaving.

  Couldn’t do it. She slept like the dead, dead, as she would say. I’d thought our first round of fucking had wiped her out, but the second had all but put her in a coma. I’d untangled from her limbs, showered, and got dressed, but she hadn’t stirred.

  Reid lay on her other side and woke as I’d grabbed my tux for later in the night from my closet. Scratching his balls, he’d followed me into the kitchen where I told him to take my truck for the day and make sure Wren got home safe.

  That had only been a few hours earlier. Seemed like days had passed since I’d breathed in her raspberry scent and ran my hands down her smooth, pale skin.

  Judging the distance for my shot, I thought Reid might have done that—had been doing that for a few hours. A shot of jealousy stabbed through my chest. I grabbed a seven iron and settled into my stance, not really sure how I felt about the strange emotion. I’d never experienced it before. I shanked it, my ball flying toward the woods.

  “What the fuck?” Someone behind me laughed. “I bet on you, Harper. Better get your head outta your ass.”

  But I didn’t think I could.

  Wren

  My work week started at eleven on Sunday night. I’d tried like hell to nap beforehand, but my racing mind wouldn’t allow it. As for studying for my finals, my focus on the text had blurred into images of Blake’s eyes. Blake’s smirk … his cock.

  Two in the morning, and I brewed a second pot of coffee. Beth laughed at me as I downed another cup.

  I checked my phone even though it hadn’t dinged notification of a text. “Nothing,” I said on a large exhale.

  Beth offered a pitying smile that made me feel worse. I’d told her all about my wild weekend, and she didn’t offer excuses for Blake not calling or texting me all day.

  I flicked through two of my favorite social media sites, bored with the quiet night. Clicking on Blake’s profile, I settled back in my chair to salivate over his pics. A new one sat at the top, posted at eleven-fifteen. Blake stood decked out in a tux, his arm wrapped around a tall blonde—what else—his face buried in the hair above her ear. She’d held the cell in her right hand for the selfie, the caption nothing like meeting up with old friends followed by a winking emoji.

  A vise squeezed my heart and my vision hazed as tears threatened.

  “What?” Beth asked.

  I handed her my cell without a word and pressed my palms against my eyes.

  “That fucker,” she breathed. “Manwhore.”

  Eyes still closed, I fought back the rising nausea. Figured. The day I finally give in wholeheartedly, and he decided he’s had his fill of me.

  So much for seven days straight of fucking.

  “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to go out with him,” I said, my voice breaking. I held out my hand for the phone and turned it off without looking at the screen.

  Just wish I’d held myself in check like I’d promised myself I would.

  ****

  I got home in the morning, heart thumping as I drove down my street. Blake’s truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot. Complete relief weakened my knees as I climbed from my car and found my steps empty. A clean break with no excuses, no awkward conversations. Much easier, but I hurt like hell.

  Coffee in hand, I ignored the window overlooking Harper’s Point and buried my nose in a textbook. Finals all week long and graduation on Friday night … best to focus on both anyway.

  My phone dinged.

  Playboy: The charity event sucked. Should have taken you with me.

  I snorted and deleted the text without replying. No way would I be the fuck in his back pocket. My life, my mind, and body were worth more than being a play toy.

  My Monday final sucked, but I got through it without too much difficulty. I turned my phone back on after class to find a new text.

  Playboy: Coffee tomorrow?

  I felt like giving him a piece of my mind, but why bother? He didn’t feel I was worth the effort, so why should I?

  I’m busy, I texted back, my chest aching. Real life waited. I’d had some fun, kicked a few things off my bucket list, but onward and upward.

  He showed up the next day anyway.

  A nasty brew of anxiety, anger, and arousal swirled through me as I walked toward him on my steps, hand in a death grip on my purse strap.

  His brow pulled down in a frown, he gave me puppy eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, staying seated.

  “I’ve got finals all week.” I paused, waiting for him to move so I could go up the stairs. “I don’t have time or energy for this.”

  “This?”

  I huffed a breath. “I get it, Blake. Really, but I’m done here.”

  “Done?” He stood, gaze filled with fake hurt. “I thought we were just getting started.”

&nbs
p; “You’ve obviously moved on, and now I need to as well. I’m not some girl you can keep waiting in the wings to get you off between those blondes of yours.”

  “What?”

  I started around him. “I have to go.” The words half-choked out of me, and I cursed my weakness.

  “Oh shit,” he breathed. “Wren, you need to let me explain.”

  “I don’t need you to do anything. Goodbye, Blake.” I started up the stairs, my body trembling from adrenaline.

  “It’s not like that, Wren,” he called after me. “You’ve gotten to me, snared me like a damn rabbit, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  Opening my door, I sighed. “You had no such problem Sunday night, did you?” I walked in and shut him out so I wouldn’t have to hear his excuses. I dropped my purse onto the table, trying to focus on the coffee pot I couldn’t see through my tears. Finding someone loyal would happen eventually, someone to erase Blake from my mind.

  My phone dinged.

  Please let me explain.

  I deleted his message and blocked his number, turning my mind to graduation four days away.

  Blake

  Wren’s door slammed shut, knifing me through the heart. I turned away, cursing Amber and her goddamn selfie with every step. Psycho bitch from hell—and I’d made the mistake of fucking her a couple of times the year before.

  She’d been all up in my shit at the charity event, and nothing I’d said or did had gotten her out of my personal space. I’d thought about a swift uppercut to knock her the hell out, but my father had raised me better than that. Anger held in check, I’d clenched my jaw and smiled as though the world turned as usual.

  “That was quick,” Reid said as I approached him by the office.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s up?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Wren’s empty window and turned back around, yanking open the office door. “She saw Amber’s selfie from Sunday night.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you tell her what kind of psycho bitch she is, what she—”

  “I started to, but she didn’t give me a chance. She won’t listen to a word I say.” I sat in my chair, head back and hands running through my hair. “Fuck.”

  The chair across from me squeaked as Reid sat down.

  “I haven’t touched another woman since I met Wren.”

  “I know.”

  I dropped my hands and met my best friend’s stare. “Don’t want to, either.”

  Reid’s brow rose.

  “That damn charity event had me wishing Wren had been on my arm so I could introduce her to everyone as my girl.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Dead.”

  Reid studied me. “So what are you going to do?”

  I shook my head, staring out the window across the street. “Don’t fucking know.”

  “You could always tie her up and make her listen.”

  “Wouldn’t work.”

  Reid’s chuckle drew my attention. “It’d be one hell of a fight.”

  My cock twitched at the thought—spitting, hissing wildcat, nails and teeth ripping at my skin. A shudder rippled through me. “Words won’t mean shit. I need to show her I’m serious about what I want, about this connection we have.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Wren. Only Wren.” I stretched my neck side to side, inhaling a deep breath. Flowers and cards wouldn’t work. I needed to do something big, something that would blow her mind. Leave no doubt.

  A light bulb lit in my head. “Oh shit.”

  “What?”

  I grinned for the first time in over forty-eight hours. “I know what to do. Just need to get everyone else on board. And,” I grabbed my cell out of my pocket, “fucking fast.”

  Like a pro, I schmoozed them all into agreeing to my last minute plan. Cost me a shitload of money, too, but it would be worth it if Wren saw my sincerity and hopefully gave me her trust.

  “Fucking brilliant,” Reid said two hours later.

  “Think it’ll work?” I asked, shutting down my laptop.

  “From everything you’ve told me about her, yes.”

  “Want to join us?”

  “Nah. I’m just a third wheel for when the mood strikes.”

  I laughed, finally relaxing. “You ought to be a professional third wheel.”

  “Manwhore?”

  “Why the hell not? The escort business is professional these days. God knows you’d be in high demand.”

  Reid chuckled. “You hitting on me?”

  “Never going to hit on anyone but Wren for the rest of my life.”

  His gaze narrowed, but the smirk remained. “Know what?”

  “What?”

  “I believe you.”

  ****

  Decked out in a suit and tie, I stood by the main entrance, a dozen roses in my hand. Smiling people spilled out of the doors, their laughter and voices a mere buzz in my ears. I scanned as quickly as possible, craning my neck to see through the crowd.

  There.

  My breath caught as Wren slipped out the door farthest from me. Rather than fight the crowd, I made a beeline for her car I’d located earlier. Bastards manning the entrance hadn’t let me in to watch Wren graduate since I didn’t have an invitation. So, I’d opted for plan B … pursue and descend.

  The toughest part of my plan lay directly ahead. Half-jogging, I cut across the parking lot. Wren’s car came into sight—I’d beaten her. I leaned against the driver door to wait. Seconds later, Wren weaved between cars, alone and head down. She brushed wayward hair behind one ear while shifting her purse on her shoulder.

  My insides quivered like Jell-O. I’d never been so goddamn nervous in my life.

  She lifted her head and pulled up short, gaze locked on me.

  I smiled.

  Her chest lifted as she heaved a sigh and started forward again, unsmiling.

  “Congratulations,” I said as she drew near.

  Unshed tears filled her eyes, her lower lip trembled—sadness filled her face, not joy from seeing me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Today is a big day for you. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she swiped it away.

  “Here.” I held out the roses. “They’re nowhere near as beautiful as you—”

  “Please, Blake.” She didn’t take the flowers, but wrapped an arm around her waist. “Spare me the honeyed bullshit.”

  “I’m not shitting you.” I urged her to take the bouquet.

  With a roll of her eyes, she accepted, taking care to keep our fingers from touching. I curled my hands into fists to keep from drawing her close, breathing in her raspberry scent, and kissing her pouty lips.

  “I have a surprise for you.” I stilled, breath held.

  “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the blood-red roses.

  “It’s something I want to show you. Nothing sexual,” I hastened to add as she lifted her head, brow quirked as if to say bullshit. “I promise I won’t try to get into your pants.”

  She chewed on the inside of her lower lip.

  “Please,” I begged, putting all my effort into puppy-dogging like hell with my eyes.

  Shifting her purse again, Wren glanced around the parking lot as families and friends gathered in groups. Swallowing, she turned her attention back to me. “Okay.”

  I grinned, my heart jumping. “We need to drive a little ways. Will you come with me?”

  She peered up at me as though trying to figure out if I had any monkey business in mind. “Fine.”

  Holding back my whoop, I offered her my arm. With hesitant fingers, she lightly touched my sleeve.

  Step one down, I thought, walking toward my car a few aisles away. Step two, don’t let me down.

  Wren

  Blake couldn’t contain his grin or the bounce in his step. Cat’s curiosity got me good, and like an idiot, I agreed to go somewhere wit
h the man who’d ripped my heart in two.

  Once in his car and on the highway, he glanced at me. “I need to explain about the picture you saw.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said, staring straight ahead.

  “I do because you’re assuming something about me again that isn’t true.”

  I angled toward him, brow half-raised in my bullshit look.

  “Amber grabbed me for the picture and I leaned toward her to holler over the noise of the live band to leave me the fuck alone.” He glanced over at me again, but I stared, not sure what to think. “I know what it looks like,” Blake continued, “but what I’m telling you is the truth. Reid knows about Amber stalking me. You can ask him if you want.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  “She doesn’t want to be a part of my past, but that’s what she’s been for over a year. I just haven’t been able to convince her of that fact.”

  True, Blake hadn’t ever lied to me. I chewed on the inside of my lips. And why would he be pursuing me when he had gorgeous models flocking to his side? Perhaps he really was interested in me as a person. While hurt still festered in my chest and doubt still filled my mind, I heaved a sigh. “All right.”

  Blake’s face lit up, blue eyes twinkling. “So we’re good?”

  I wouldn’t say good. I shrugged, not really sure about the conflicting emotions swirling inside of me. “Regardless of how you feel right now, I’m not thrilled with the thought this type of thing will happen again—and you know it will.”

  Blake’s lips pursed as he gripped the steering wheel. It took a few seconds, but he heaved a breath and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, and I understand how those circumstances would make you feel uncomfortable.”

  I nodded and turned to look out the window again, finding we pulled into a parking lot I recognized. “We’re going to the same restaurant as our first date?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded again, but merely in acknowledgment, not joy. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for more conversation about Blake, me, and our impossible future. Yes, I’d presumed to know him, but that damn pic, while he claimed innocence, solidified my thoughts of his lifestyle.