The Player - By Rhonda Nelson Page 0,27

wear. She’d tried on several outfits, made a mess of her closet and her room—which had taken a solid fifteen minutes to repair—and generally acted like a junior high drama queen getting ready for her first date.

Which was ridiculous when she already had a boyfriend, dammit, and was not under any circumstances going to act on this unholy attraction to Jamie. If she could have clothed herself in burlap this morning, she would have done it.

That’s how desperate she was.

And it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself.

She’d stood at her kitchen window last night and gazed at him until that throb between her legs had beaten an insistent tattoo against her defenses and had, predictably, become unbearable. Audrey let go a small sigh. Thus, she’d ended up taking matters into her own hands.

Quite frankly, since Derrick wasn’t an altogether guaranteed orgasm, self-service for her wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Furthermore, there was a distinct amount of satisfaction which came from knowing she wasn’t dependent upon a man for her own release. Too bad that younger girls weren’t encouraged to explore their bodies the way that young boys were expected to explore theirs, she thought.

Masturbation in guys was a forgone conclusion and yet for many girls, it was still considered taboo. Considering it took a great deal more finesse for a woman to achieve climax than a man, it would seem that girls should be encouraged to explore themselves with the same zeal in which boys did. But that was a whole other matter, Audrey thought, a double standard that she imagined was going to take decades to correct.

The point was, this was the first time Audrey had taken care of business with a specific man in mind and the result had been quite…spectacular. Beyond anything she could have expected. In addition, though it had dulled the edge, so to speak, the ache had immediately returned with a vengeance. If thinking about doing it with him could make her fly into a million pieces and melt against her mattress, then what would actually being with him do to her?

And if he didn’t stop sending her those sexy halfsmiles and sidelong glances, she wasn’t merely going to have to wonder—she’d have to know.

And that, she knew, was out of the question.

Of course, it’d be easier to remember that if he’d quit flirting with her. She looked down at the ugly flannel shirt and winced. Clearly her plan wasn’t working.

“Go change,” Tewanda told her. “It’s not too late. You’re spending the whole day with him. Has he asked for that massage yet?”

“No,” Audrey said, releasing a shaky breath at the mere thought of her hands sliding over that silky skin and muscle. “And I hope he doesn’t.” She whacked Tewanda against the arm.

“Ouch,” Tewanda yelped accusingly, rubbing the spot. “What the hell was that for?”

“That was for suggesting I give him a massage. Carlos can give him a massage. Not me.”

“Hunh.” She shook her head. “That man is not going to let another man give him a massage.”

“He will if he wants one bad enough,” Audrey said. She needed to keep her hands to herself, thank you very much, and it was going to be hard enough without Tewanda’s interference. Honestly, she’d known that her friend didn’t care for Derrick, but she didn’t realize just how much Tewanda hated him until Jamie had come along.

Derrick had called last night immediately following Audrey’s help-yourself-orgasm buffet and she’d felt so guilty over fantasizing about Jamie that she hadn’t answered the phone. Of course, the instant his accusatory “Where-are-you? Why-aren’t-you-waiting-on-my-call?” tone had sounded through the small speaker, she’d immediately let go of any remorse.

“My mountains are done,” Jamie called from over his shoulder.

Tewanda frowned. “Mountains?”

“Don’t ask,” Audrey said, laughing under her breath.

“Oh, now you can’t laugh like that, then tell me not to ask.” Tewanda squinted down the hill at Jamie, trying to make out his painting. “What’s going on?”

Audrey nodded her head in Jamie’s direction. “He’s painted some special…artwork for my grandfather.”

“How nice,” Tewanda said, brightening. “The Colonel should like that.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. “Why don’t you trot down there and take a look and then we’ll see if you still think he’ll like it.”

With a haughty look of sheer bafflement, Tewanda did just that. Audrey quietly followed, looking forward to hearing her friend’s take on Jamie’s paintings.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Tewanda asked him.

Jamie glanced past Tewanda and his twinkling gaze tangled with hers.