Made: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Boy Games) by Danielle Slater, Allegra Ryan Page B

We’re in this game together. Even though I know more about it than you do, I’ve never played before, so in a way, we’re even. We’re going to have to work together if we want to win.” I cup her full breast with my hand and circle her nipple with my thumb. She sucks in a sudden breath. “You see, that’s communication. We need to work at communication.”
    “Is this. . .” she begins. I take her nipple between my lips and suck. “ Oh God . . . allowed?”
    When I lift my head, I say, “I’m sure it’s okay with God.”
    “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
    “Why not have a little fun while we can?” I drag her hand down to the vicinity of my cock, hoping she’ll take the hint and get to work. Instead, she jerks out of my arms and backs away from me, putting an upholstered chair between us.
    “You have a terrible attitude! How are we going to win if your attention is focused on getting in my pants?”
    I want to point out that she’s not wearing any pants. I’m also confident that if I put my fingers between her legs, they’ll come away coated in her juices. Points to me for knowing what her body wants, even if her brain and her mouth are running in the opposite direction as fast as they can.
    My cock is so hard it’s filling my jeans and threatening to punch through the zipper. Her gaze keeps straying south of my belt. My cock stirs when her eyes go there. No matter how much she protests or pretends otherwise, the woman wants me. My dick might not give a shit what she wants, but I’ve never been the kind of asshole who takes an unwilling woman.
    “How are you going to focus on the game when you can’t stop looking at my cock?”
    “It’s called discipline. Have you ever heard of it? Maybe you could look it up on Google.”
    If her goal was to piss me off, she’s doing a bang-up job. I spread my hands wide like I’m giving up. “Fine. Have it your way, but don’t say I didn’t offer.”
    She rolls her eyes and pads in the direction of the bedroom.
    “Where are you going?”
    As she walks, she glances over her shoulder. “Cleveland. Where does it look like I’m going?”
    “Point of order you should be aware of—”
    “I’ve heard all I want to hear about your cock.”
    “It’s about the game.”
    “Okay.”
    Now she’s all ears. Lucky me. “As long as the game is in play, I can’t let you out of my sight.”
    “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
    “Biology happens.”
    “You can’t be serious!”
    “Was there anything about Alexander Ferrara you noticed that wasn’t serious? Because if there was, that was a mistake. The dude plays for keeps.”
    She tilts her head and studies me for a long moment like she’s reading something stamped on my face. “Don’t you play for keeps, too?”
    Her question stuns me, but she’s right. Half-measures are for pussies. “Yeah, I do.”
    “Okay, then, we’re good.”
    I stand there like an idiot trying to understand what just happened. Meanwhile, she disappears into the bedroom, and I let her go. Unless there’s an assassin under the bed, I figure she’s safe.
    “Nathan? Can you come here?”
    I rush through the doorway, my nine-millimeter in my hand, to find Brooke standing next to an open and very full suitcase. Her arms are folded under her breasts. She doesn’t look happy. “What’s wrong?”
    “Everything.” She waves a hand over the jumble. “The suitcase was delivered this morning, but everything in it is sized for Samantha.”
    “So? Don’t chicks borrow each other’s clothes all the time?”
    “Obviously, you haven’t noticed that I’m about five inches taller than Samantha. We don’t wear the same sizes.” She points to a short stack of folded t-shirts on the edge of the bed. “Those are the only things that will fit except for a couple of skirts.”
    Again, no pants. I like where things are going. “So wear that stuff.”
    She glares at me. “No. Either you take me home so I can