Anne Lange: It’s time to play.
Have you ever thought about taking charge? Even just for one night? Well, that’s what Game Night, my contribution to SEX OBJECTS, is all about. Photographer Samantha Rowan sets out to ensnare the sexy man she’s been teasing with sly glances and flirtatious winks all week.
But she’s tired of the foreplay.
Now she wants to jump into the game.
A photographer who likes to play games entices a professional ball player into spending the evening in front of her camera – naked.
All bets were off. Samantha Rowan focused on the smoldering look coming from one of the most delicious men she’d ever laid eyes on, and as the owner of one of the top modeling agencies in Los Angeles, she’d seen plenty.
Sitting in the corner of the small club, his back to the wall, the man owned the room, exuding strength and power from every pore. The routine hadn’t varied. Locals stopped to say hello, and no doubt commented on the team’s success before offering advice on his pitching technique. All gazes of the female persuasion struggled not to stray, too often, in his direction. A daring few found opportunities to stroll past and take a gander up close and personal. Samantha wondered at the variety of propositions he fielded.
Little did they know they waged a losing battle. Tonight his attention would be on her, and her alone. Almost every night for the past week, they’d observed each other, tempted each other with little smirks, heated stares and teasing body language. Tonight she’d made her move, sending a drink to his table.
She sipped from her glass, the amber liquid smooth and rich as it slid over her tongue and down her parched throat. Each night had been the same—dry in the mouth, wet in the panties. When she wore them.
Hooking her left stiletto over the rung on the stool, she crossed her right knee over her left, allowing her already short black skirt to hike up another couple of inches. She had direct line of sight.
His eyes widened, flames danced in those dark orbs.
She undid a button on her white silk blouse. And then another, until the red scalloped edge of her bra peeked from beneath. Zeroing in on his mouth, she licked her lips when he licked his. Her gaze lifted to tangle with his, and she gifted him with a quirk of her brow and a slight nod of her head.
He rose from his chair.
Excitement made her blood sing and her skin tingle as she watched him stride across the room, navigating through the gyrating bodies on the miniscule dance floor, a head taller than most, including those in heels. He moved with athletic grace, each step sensual but decisive.
Tomorrow, the team played in Boston. Tonight she’d have hometown advantage.
When he stopped in front of her, his impressive bulge brushed her kneecap.
She tamped down her initial response and forced her roving eyes to travel higher, taking in his trim waist and broad shoulders, showcased in a well-fitted jacket.
The loosened tie pushed her past the point of no return.
Her fingers itched to caress his strong chin. She fantasized about dipping her tongue in the tiny cleft. By the time she reached his slate blue eyes, they sparkled with arousal and a hint of mischief. She breathed him in, the scent of soap and light male cologne sweeping through her body, arousing her senses. The noise dimmed around them.
“I owe you for the drink. Do you mind if I join you?” His deep sexy timbre reached out and stroked her, sending all her girl parts into stand-by mode.
“Please do.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated the empty bar stool to her right.
As he settled next to her, she twisted around, thinking to face the bar, but he stopped her mid-way and adjusted his legs to cage hers. Then, he had the audacity to feel her up, a hand gliding over her knee. He nodded to the waiting bartender. “I’ll have what the lady’s having. And she’ll have a fresh one.”
“Right away, sir.” The man faded away.
“So, what’s your name, beautiful?”
“Samantha … what?”
“Just Samantha.” She leaned in to whisper. “But if you’re a good boy, I may let you call me Sam.”
His throaty chuckle made her grin, though she fought to hide it by tipping her glass to her lips.
“Are you here alone…Sam?”
Cheeky devil. “If I weren’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here with your hand on my thigh and your fingers playing under the hem of my skirt.” She pointedly glanced at his hand.
“Would you like me to remove it?”
“Ah, perfect. You already know how to ask for permission.” She caught herself before laughing at the element of surprise in his expression. “You may leave it there…for now.”
~ * ~ * ~
Did that little teaser whet your appetite for more? Don’t be shy. Check out a few of my other books.
The Vault Series is a mix of ménage and light BDSM. It’s based on three brothers who own an exclusive adult club, as they and some of their friends all find their happily ever after.
A New League Series is about professional sports players who’ve reached the end of their career and are trying to figure out what to do next as some lucky woman tries to convince them there’s life beyond the game.
My brand new trilogy, Family Ties, is a contemporary romantic suspense centered on a family mixed up in organized crime. Book 1 in this trilogy was just released at the end of June.
I also have a few other short ménage stories. If you’re interested, you can find me here.
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