Playing For Her Heart - Megan Erickson Page 0,9

been the sister who passed away in that car accident years ago, not Samantha, the glue who held everyone together.

Nope, he’d always remember her as Sari, the princess who fucked like a queen.

And that was why she carefully slipped out of his arms as he slept, dressed quietly in the dark, and tiptoed out of the hotel room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Chapter Three

If anyone knew that Grant listened to Pink and Christina Aguilera while exercising instead of Metallica or something suitably masculine, he’d never live it down.

But hot damn, he loved this song. Xtina sang “Fighter” and he tossed his head along with the song, now adept at shimmying on the treadmill at the same time his feet pounded the tread. He was alone in his basement, so he could act the fool all he wanted.

He ran shirtless and the sweat dripped down his back, soaking the waistband of his mesh shorts. He upped the incline with a couple jabs of his index finger and ran harder, pushing himself to the brink, needing to reach that point of exhaustion.

Ever since he woke up a week ago in that hotel room, naked and alone, he’d tried to convince himself that he’d dodged a bullet. That she’d spared him the awkward morning after where they both tried to cover up their private parts while guzzling coffee.

Except…nothing about his time with Sari had been awkward. Not at all. She’d been so responsive to his touch. She’d loved everything he did, every word, every flick of his tongue. Her eyes were heated missiles and he still felt the burns.

So while he’d tried to tell himself it was for the best, when he was alone in the shower¸ his hand circling his stiff cock, he lamented missing out on round two.

And when he was lying awake in bed at night—because insomnia had decided to become his friend lately—he realized that he also he cared that he didn’t say good-bye. That he didn’t get her real name.

Maybe it was the way she talked, or the way she moved. The way she threw herself into the role, the way she clearly knew the video game inside and out. Either way, the sum of Sari had made him want to break all his rules, because that woman was worth it.

But she’d stolen out of the room while he’d been passed out in a post-orgasmic deep sleep. He’d almost thought he dreamed it, until he found her panties under the bed skirt.

Grant had brought them home, like some lovesick idiot, tucked into his bag. If Sydney ever found them… Hell he’d probably lie and said he cross-dressed rather than admit to bringing home a stranger’s underwear. Because didn’t that make him a super creep?

He couldn’t stop thinking about her, the way her large breasts felt in his hands, the way she tasted, the way her sweet pussy clenched around his cock as she came apart below him, her cries echoing in his ears. His palms itched sometimes, a phantom sting where he’d cracked them on the flesh of her ass.

He’d searched the convention for her, but it had been Sunday, the last day. He knew his chances of finding her again were slim, but he’d been desperate.

Grant didn’t do desperate.

So maybe it was better this way. He could remember Sari as she was, a beautiful vixen, and move on with his life. He was a single father with a teenage daughter. Complications and attachments weren’t his thing. But even as Sydney’s shadow fell across the floor in front of his treadmill, he had a hard time remembering that.

He popped his earbuds out of his ears, causing Pink’s voice to fade away, as he lowered the incline of the treadmill and slowed the speed. “What’s up?”

His daughter propped an elbow on the front console. “Taste-testing time.”

This was why he worked out. Because if he didn’t, his daughter would surely turn him into a five-hundred-pound man. She loved to bake, and he’d told her he’d send her to culinary school if that was what she wanted. She insisted, though, that this was her hobby. One she loved and planned to keep but it was exactly that, a hobby. It was a good one, too. Sydney had a peanut allergy and baked goods were some of the hardest to find allergy-free.

Sydney wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps and enter the tech world as a programmer. He was proud of her, because after cooking, she was always at her computer.