Playing for Her Heart
Gamers # 2
Gamers # 2
By: Megan Erickson
Releasing August 11, 2015
Grant Osprey just had the hottest sex of his life. Sure, they were both in costume, and yes, it was anonymous, but he never expected her to bolt in the middle of the night without so much as a good bye, let alone exchanging numbers. Or names. All he’s left with are her panties and some seriously X-rated memories...until he meets his business partner's little sister.
Only Chloe Talley isn't the bold, sexy vixen he remembers. And she wants nothing to do with him.
Cosplay is Chloe’s only chance to leave her boring, socially awkward world behind. To forget that she’s failing at life and can’t be with anyone, let alone a single-father like Grant. But the raw hunger between them is undeniable. With him, she can be a misbehaving maid. A sexy call girl for hire. Each scene pushes Chloe beyond her strict boundaries, until Grant demands the one character she can't play.
Link to Follow BLAST: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/07/playing-for-her-heart-gamers-2-by-megan_15.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25899747-playing-for-her-heart?ac=1
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/149912-gamers
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/149912-gamers
Megan worked as a journalist covering real-life dramas before she decided she liked writing her own endings better and switched to fiction.
She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two kids and two cats. When she's not tapping away on her laptop, she's probably listening to the characters in her head who won't stop talking.
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Excerpt (Please use ONLY one)
Chloe craned her neck and moved to go around the man, but the he sidestepped, right into her path. She glared at him. Or rather, she glared at…Doc Ock.
A Doc Ock who was leering at her.
For God’s sake.
He twisted at the waist, so his metal octopus arms clanged together. Leaning into her, he pulled a string near his head so a claw snapped in her face. “Need a hand untying that corset, baby?” He held out his hands so that all four of his metal arms lifted. “Because I got six.”
This was what was keeping her from Breck? A Spider-Man villain? She raised her eyebrows, emboldened by her costume so she could say what she never could without it.
“Seriously? That’s your come on?”
He blinked at her. “Uh, yeah I guess so.”
“That’s the best you could come up with?”
His lips twisted to the side. “Well, uh, how about, are you afraid of spiders? Because I can protect you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Spiderman already beat you once and—”
And then her world tilted as someone gripped her waist and slung her over a hard shoulder. Then she was moving as the body who held her began walking. She protested with an umph and raised her head, watching Doc Ock stare after them with wide eyes, his metal arms clanking.
Chloe tried to get her wits together, remembering this was cosplay and she was Sari and how dare this guy pick her up? She turned her attention to her kidnapper. Or rather, his back. His blue-shirt-clad back. “Hey, put me down.”
He did with a thunk, and once she righted her skirt and brushed her hair out of her face, she got a good look at Breck. Her Breck.
Her incredibly hot rescuer.
She placed her hand on her hips and tried to keep the breathiness out of her voice, because damn. “I was doing just fine back there.”
“I know you were,” he said in a deep voice that skittered down her spine like fingers. “But I wasn’t. Had enough of watching that guy trying to hit on you.” Those full lips, so full they were almost feminine, twisted into a smile. “I wanted your attention. Because you’re the best Sari I’ve seen today.”
Chloe sucked in a breath. Oh yes, he’d do.
This could crash and burn in epic failure. Grant was a thirty-two-year-old man and this was probably a horrible idea. But he couldn’t get Chloe’s green eyes out of his head, the way she kissed him, the way she moved under his palms. And, fuck, the way she tasted… So, he took a deep breath and went for it, knowing this could completely end in Ethan ripping out his heart like in that Indiana Jones movie.
Grant tipped up his lips and narrowed his eyes, adopting the air of a domineering businessman. “I thought I told you that I wanted the entire house finished by the time I got back. I’m not paying you to dance around the kitchen.”
Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and Grant waited, on fucking pins and needles to see if she’d play along.
The only sound was the refrigerator kicking on, and he was about to laugh, and tell her he was joking, when her voice, small but gaining power, said, “But, sir, you’re home early.”
That sir went right to his cock.
He took a step toward her, smiling when she backed up into the counter behind her. “I’m only a half an hour early, and you have a lot more than half an hour of work to do. What’s your excuse?”
Her lips parted. “I—”
He stepped into her space, plucking her iPod from the waistband of her pants, setting it on the counter along with her earbuds. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Yes?” he questioned, hands on either side of her, pinning her in.
She opened her eyes, and he stared into the swirling green pool of her irises. She was in the role now; he could feel it. “I’m sorry but I took a nap in your bed.”
Jesus, his cock twitched and he shifted, so the front of his jeans brushed her thigh. “You napped in my bed?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I know, I w-was bad.”
God, he was going to come in his pants. He ran a hand along the outside of her thigh, teasing the skin under the hem of her shorts. “Is that all you did? Sleep?”
She shook her head.
“No? What did you do in my bed?”
“I-I touched myself.”
Her whisper was a lick across his balls. With a grip on her biceps, he spun her around, so she faced the counter. She gripped it with a cry, but didn’t struggle. Instead, she threw her head back and pushed out her ass.
He took the invitation for what it was. He lowered her shorts along with her panties, hooking the fabric under the cheeks of her ass.
He smoothed a hand over it, and reveled in the small moan she made in the back of her throat. “You know I need to punish you, right?”
She nodded, her hair bobbing.
“I’ll go easy on you if you’re truthful with me.”
He squeezed one cheek, then let it go, watching as the blood rushed back to the white areas made by his fingers. “What did you think about when you touched yourself?”
The hesitation was for effect, he knew it. What a little actress she was. She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling coyly and blinking under her lashes. “You, sir. I thought about you and your huge cock.”
He peered through the peephole. Chloe was standing on the front porch, large sunglasses over her eyes—even though it was nighttime—and wearing a belted trench coat.
When he opened the door, he gazed down to her bare legs and sky-high black heels.
“Mr. Osprey?” she asked, her lips a bright cherry red.
He leaned on the door and raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
Her pink tongue slipped out, wetting her bottom lip.
“My handler said you have hired my services for the night. I only accept cash.”
He nearly swallowed his tongue. So she wanted to play some Pretty Woman role, huh? He went from kinda hard to full mast.
“We agreed on two grand and I get you until two in the morning.” He deliberately leered. “All of you. Every inch of you. However I want you. Suit you, Princess?”
The lapels of her trench coat quivered. “Suits me.”
“Great.” He stepped back and gestured inside. “Come in, please.”
She brushed past him and he smelled strawberries. He shut and locked the door, then turned around to face Chloe.
She’d taken her sunglasses off and her hands were on her untied belt. In one practiced move, she flung open the edges of the coat and rolled her shoulders so the khaki material fluttered to the ground at her feet.
Grant had to shoot out a hand to brace himself on the wall because he suddenly had vertigo.The physical parts of Chloe he loved the most were encased in lavender lace—a bra that didn’t cover much, because he could see her hardened nipples poking through.
Her thong didn’t cover much except for a small triangle scrap, hiding her pussy—which he knew she shaved bare—from his view.
Jesus, all that skin, that delicious lace, all for him.
She watched him with those green eyes, a sexy smirk to her mouth. She slowly twisted, so that her ankles were crossed, and showed him her back, she looked at him through her lashes over her shoulder. Only a string ran along the top of her ass and between her crease.
He was hard in his jeans, ridiculously so, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Hadn’t yet taken that mouth or plunged his fingers in that tight heat. He was going to do all of that and then some.
He stepped toward her. “Hands on the wall. Ass out.”