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Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(237)

By:Aubrey Irons


“So do the guys looking for us; come here.”

“I’ll wear a hat.”

I start to grin, realizing how hilariously vain this is sounding coming from the bad-boy hard-body criminal; “Are you Steven Seagal?”

He grumbles something in Spanish and tightens his jaw, but he shuffles into the bathroom anyways and peels his t-shirt off as he plops into the chair. The fact that he really is apparently so attached to the look makes me laugh as I move behind him and start to pull the band out of his dark brown hair.

“Look, relax. I've got two sisters; I've done this before, ok?”

“What, cut ponytails?”

“You have no idea.”

His thin mouth curls into a grin; “Fine.”

I'm as gentle as I can be, my fingers sliding through his hair and feeling for length before I take the scissors to it. I laugh as big tough bad-boy Javier flinches with the first snip, but after that, I'm too concentrated on making sure I'm even to pay attention to his little fit about getting his haircut.

Lock after lock tumbles off his bare shoulders to the floor and slowly, the man with the wild look and the long hair transforms into someone, well, normal looking.

And somehow someone even more attractive, actually.

When I'm done, I slowly place the scissors onto the counter and stand back to admire my work; “Well? Not bad, right?”

He swears and I roll my eyes; “Oh, come on, it's not-”

“No, I like it.”

I grin at him, pleased with myself; “Really?”

“It's not bad.”

I shrug; “You look less-”

“Samurai-ish?”

I laugh; “I was going to say like less of a villain.”

Javier grins at me in the mirror; “I like being a villain.”

“Well, now you look like a nice guy.”

“How nice.”

I can feel the flush coming into my cheeks as he looks into my eyes through the mirror in front of us, and I hastily look away, as if suddenly interested in cleaning up the mess from our makeovers.

“I'd prefer to be bad, you know.”

I whirl back to find him standing, his eyes narrowed as he stares at me.

Hungrily.

My breath catches in my throat, suddenly aware of the tension rapidly coming to a boil in the small confines of the motel bathroom.

Please don’t come closer, I think to myself.

Because as much as I want to deny it; I like him bad, too.

And however forbidden the thought is, however wrong it is to even think to myself, I want him to be bad with me.

He's moving closer, and I find myself gasping as I step back into the wall behind me. He takes another step towards me, his eyes blazing as he looks at me like a wolf sizing up his prey. He licks his perfect lips, and I bite my own. I'm a torn mess inside; willing this to happen with everything I am and at the same time praying to God that he walks away.

Because I'm fairly sure that right now, I can’t.

He steps even closer, and I can feel my blood pumping like hot metal through my veins. The masculine scent of him and the heat from his look invades the space around me, and a deliciously forbidden and taboo heat aches between my thighs. I can feel my breath coming ragged, my pulse racing as he steps closer still.

“Don't let the hair fool you, princess,” he growls, and moves closer still, so close that we're practically touching; “I'm still a villain.”

He closes the distance between us with a ferocity that has me moaning into his kiss as he mashes his lips against mine. It’s hungry and raw, full of pure need and desire, and I gasp into his mouth as I feel him press against my body.

And as wrong as it is - as much as I want to pull away or push him back or shake myself out of this - I can’t.

And I don’t.

Because I know I want this. In that moment, I want him more than I've ever wanted anything.

My hands move by themselves as I open my mouth to his insistent tongue, tracing over the hardened, inked muscles of his chest and sides. He growls into my mouth as his hands snake up my back, caressing my body with his fingertips until he finds the edge of my towel. He's pulling it off of me, letting it drop to the floor beneath us, and I moan as my aching nipples rub deliciously across his chest, the heat of our skin melting together.

It's so forbidden, and so wrong, and so bad that I- that-

Oh God; what in the world am I doing?

The sudden realization that this isn't just “bad”, it’s very fucking bad, hits me like a splash of cold water to the face. I gasp as I suddenly push him away, my chest rising and falling with my panted breath; “Stop!”

He growls and moves to kiss me again, but I push him away harder this time, grabbing another towel and holding it over my topless breasts as I shake my head. I wince, furrowing my brow; “No, oh my God, stop. We can't do this!”