Here's the blurb for my bundle story PLAY WITH ME----
THIS IS NO ORDINARY LOVE TRIANGLE.
Him: 25-year-old Silver March. Ex-bad-boy turned perfect boyfriend material because he had his heart stolen by…
Her: 19-year-old Lace Wyndham. A foul-mouthed tomboyish girl who owned more Nikes than most men. More than anything in the world, she loved…
Basketball: The third party.
Silver’s first order for the day: to make Lace realize he was a man, she was a woman, and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t ever marry a damn sport.
“Tell me what’s happened to you since the last time we met.” Murmured words that were both coaxing and commanding.
This time, she was too tired to argue, too tired to pretend she didn’t ache to follow him. “I transferred schools with the help of some really nice friends. When I was accepted here, I applied for the position of team manager. I was interviewed on the phone by the former team captain, then I met with Derek Christopoulos, one of the board members. He interviewed me, too, and in a nutshell, he made me the unofficial coach of the team.”
Silver’s brow shot up. “An unofficial coach?” His eyes narrowed, and his tone became cool when he said, “You must have made a great impression on the man.”
She blinked. “Are you…jealous?”
“If I am?” His voice had become even cooler.
She thought about it before saying finally, “That would be…problematic.” And that was an understatement.
“If it is, let it be my problem.”
Seeing he wasn’t going to budge, Lace quickly reverted to their earlier subject. “It’s not a permanent position. There’s a non-league tournament about to start, and he told me if I can get the team to make it to the finals, he’ll make the position official.”
“And what did you say?”
Her lips twitched. “You don’t want to know.”
“I told him I’ll do one better. I promised to make his team the tournament champion.” His bark of laughter made Lace swallow. She was happy that she got him to laugh, but she wasn’t so happy about how good his laugh sounded to her ears. Damn, damn, damn, this was so dangerous.
“Why did I even ask,” Silver was murmuring, a smile still playing on his lips. “That answer was 100% Lace Wyndham.”
“I have a feeling there’s an insult in there somewhere,” she muttered.
“How are you getting along with your team?” More and more, Silver March was proving to be the master at sidestepping conversations that wasn’t in his advantage to continue.
His words had her grimacing and wishing she could be as good as him at evading questions. She said reluctantly, “It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
He gave her a look of sham sympathy. “That bad, huh?”
“Shut up.” A second later, and she couldn’t help confiding in him unhappily, “Yeah. It sucks balls---” When a choking laugh escaped Silver, she corrected herself, “I mean, it’s, err, super bad?”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like they were rude to me or whatever. If anything, they’re actually the most well-mannered team of players I’ve ever handled.” She glared up at him.
Silver didn’t even blink. “Let me guess.” His tone was dry. “They reminded you of me?”
“Too. Irritatingly. Perfect.”
“Only you would think that’s a crime.”
Slowly, she pushed herself up. Silver didn’t stop her, which made her grateful and uneasy at the same time. Why did he seem to know her so well? How could it be that he knew when to push and when to just let her be?
Her nose had stopped bleeding, allowing Lace to look down on the floor. Tucking her legs under her, she confessed, “They make me feel inadequate. They’re all amazing players, and I just don’t know how to approach them. They’re so different from all the other players I’ve handled---”
The interruption had her looking at him.
“Remember how you were missing the hoop all the time a while ago?”
“Was it because you suddenly lost your feel for the ball?”
She shook her head.
“Maybe the balls they use here aren’t what you’re used to playing with?”
No. It hadn’t been that either.
“Is it the place? It doesn’t feel like it’s your home court yet?”
“Then what is it?”
She said slowly, “It was me.” She remembered his words, his gentle reminder about the times when she forgot her own strength. “Oh.”
His eyes gleamed. “You get it now?”
She swallowed. “Yeah.” She did. Because of this beautiful, all-knowing man beside her, she understood.
“And your team now?” he asked quietly. “Are they really that different from the other teams you handled?”
She whispered, “I was the one who was different.” She used to be fearless and excited every time she came across an opportunity to coach, but then life got in the way, and she would have bungled the most important break in her life if not for Silver.
Before she could thank him, she felt Silver taking her hand, pulling her up. “Let me walk you back to your place.”
She couldn’t even think of saying no, couldn’t even pull away when he helped her pack her stuff, holding her bag with one hand then clasping her hand with the other. It was a quiet walk back home, which was exactly how she liked it. This time, she was no longer surprised that Silver seemed to understand what she needed.
Silver March could see the future. That was that.
As they walked, she started planning and strategizing, and the way excitement filled her heart about going to practice made Lace grin like a fool. God, she had missed this feeling – of being unable to sleep because basketball was all she could think about.
When Silver stopped, she looked up and realized that they had already reached her room. The hallway was dark and empty, and its intimate atmosphere made her nervous all of a sudden.
She almost didn’t want to look up, but she also knew ignoring him was pointless. Silver was just the kind who would persist until he had his way.
A smile once again played on his lips when their eyes met, and Lace had to remind herself very strongly that she was not the type to swoon over a guy’s smile.
“Open your door.” Another command that she shouldn’t follow but did so anyway. When her door was unlocked, he was the one to push it open. He stepped back, letting her precede him. He followed her right after, closing the door behind him.
Her room seemed to magically shrink in size and turn into a living oven at his presence. God, he was so hot---no, no, she meant, the room. The room was so hot.
For a long moment, they only stared at each other, their bodies so close but not quite touching.
Her eyes widened the same time he placed a finger on her lips.
Ba-ba-ba-ba-thuuuuuuuuuuuuump. She had learned about the term from reading the manga or Japanese graphic novels that her best friend liked to draw. She used to think it was an exaggerated sound effect used, but now she knew it was true. It was real. It was the exact sound her heart was currently making, the way it tried so hard to smash its way out of her chest.
Slowly, she opened her mouth, and a moment later, her lips closed over his finger. Lace watched him watch her as she started sucking his finger. She had never done something like this, but somehow she liked it. Found it arousing, embarrassingly so.
The way his nostrils flared with desire made her body ache, the way only Silver could make her ache. And oh, the way his gaze devoured her made Lace want to be devoured. He only had to say the word---
“Little lamb, enough.” His voice was strained, suppressed need etched on his too-beautiful face.
She almost didn’t want to let go, but she was too shy to protest. Her lips parted, the feel of loss keen when his finger left her mouth. He was breathing hard while Lace tried her best to catch hers.
When he moved towards her, she stiffened, but all Silver did was take her hand, lift it up---
Before she knew it, her left index finger was inside his mouth, and he was sucking it. Sucked it so good she couldn’t help but press her legs together in hopes of stemming the wetness that threatened to gush out of her.
He nipped her finger one last time, releasing her finger but keeping her wrist captive. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” The words were out before she knew what she was going to say. Mortification flamed her, but even so, Lace lifted her chin defiantly. “You’ve told me the same thing before---”
“The time we spent apart was for your sake.” His smile became self-mocking. “And if it was up to my conscience, I would have waited some more. You’re too young for me, too inexperienced---”
“You sound like you’re breaking up with me when we’re not even dating,” she gritted out. But she knew her anger was merely a disguise, the only way to keep herself from remembering the pain of the nights that followed the wedding. Those times she had checked her phone endlessly, unable to admit to herself that she was hoping he would call or text her.
“We’re not dating,” he agreed. “Yet.”
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