Playing For Her Heart - Megan Erickson Page 0,1

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.

She smiled, grateful for her heavy makeup—black-lined eyes, rouged cheeks, and red, red lips. “You’re an okay Breck, I guess.”

He laughed, a short burst of sound that made her grin even wider.

“Okay? Only okay? Damn, woman, you’re a tough audience. I hand-dyed this shirt, I’ll have you know.”

Never in her life did she think a man talking about dying his shirt would make her wet. But, oh God, she was a little turned on right now. “Ah, but did you slice your finger open on the plastic boning while sewing it into your corset?” She had a small bloodstain on the inner lining to prove it.

She’d never seen a man whose face was so expressive. He twisted it from humor to one of mock sympathy in an instant. “Oh my God! The horror! Did you see the healer, my dear Sari?”

He was so good, slipping back into character. Which worked for her, because he’d never learn her real name if she had any say over it. “A dab of ointment and a bandage and I’ll live to see another day.”

He held out his hand and she studied it. Not too calloused. Nails short and well maintained. He had a rather muscular frame, but she assumed that came from a gym. She took one step closer and placed her injured hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers briefly, his gaze on her face, then his eyes dropped to her hand. He studied it, twisting his wrist, until he found the injury on her forefinger. She’d placed an honest to God white bandage on it she’d made from an old bed sheet. A Band-Aid would have ruined her look.

His mouth quirked up at the corners as he took it in, and then he lifted his gaze, lowered his head, and pressed a kiss to her finger.

She held in a gasp as his lips brushed her skin, the warmth spreading through her limbs like wildfire.

The first time Breck touched Sari in the game, she’d just picked the lock of her cell with a dagger hidden in her skirt. With several other prisoners at her heels, she’d taken off at a dead sprint in the catacombs of the dungeon, only to run headlong into Breck, who was there with Aric. He’d hauled her over his shoulder and she’d fought him the whole way, pounding his