The Name of the Game by Jennifer Dawson Page B

laced his fingers over a stomach that should be declared illegal. “I assume you’re nervous and thus will excuse your rudeness.”
    She blew out an exasperated breath. Calm. She needed to be calm. All this pent-up sexual energy messed with her brain. Once they got this over with she’d be back to normal. She was sure of it. Then they could get on with the business of being friends.
    He sat across from her, looking more likely to go to sleep than make a move on her.
    She sighed. Now that her decision was made, she was antsy to get it over with. She glanced meaningfully at the open staircase that most likely led to his bedroom. “Can we just get on with it?”
    â€œDo you have somewhere you need to be?” he asked.
    Most men would have pounced on her the second she’d made her offer, but not the professor. Although, she could look at his lack of action in a positive light, as it confirmed she’d been right about the way he took his sex. “No, I just don’t want to waste any more time.”
    He was silent for several long moments before his head cocked to the side. “I’m not sure how sleeping together is a viable solution.”
    God, couldn’t he understand how on edge she was? She threw up her hands. “Why can’t you be a normal guy? I’m offering you sex. Can’t you just take it and quit talking about it?”
    He raised a brow. “If I was just a normal guy and you were just an ordinary woman, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”
    The silence stretched out between them like an endless chasm. The heat permeated the air until it felt thick and humid. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and blew out a hard breath. “I suppose there’s truth to that.”
    She braced herself for some sort of smugness, but he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, calling to attention the wide expanse of his broad shoulders and hard cut of his jaw. “While there’s always been attraction between us, this tension is new. What is wrong with talking it through?”
    A splash of heat spread over her chest. He’d said it out loud. There’d be no pretending it didn’t lurk between them now. A silly notion considering she’d just propositioned him for sex, but she’d made that sound more like scratching an itch. More about taking one for the greater good of the team. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you want to discuss.”
    â€œHow about the fact that we rub each other the wrong way? How we’re entirely different people? How we’re going to have to see each other for the next fifty years?”
    All good questions if she’d proposed dating, but she hadn’t. “I’m not suggesting we get married. I’m suggesting we have sex one time so we can move on to our truce.”
    â€œI think your way has consequences we need to examine.” Voice calm, he sat there with his fingers loosely clasped, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
    This conversation made her head ache and she pressed a fingertip against her temple. What kind of guy examined the consequences of sex? You offered. They took. Easy. Only James made it complicated. She drained half her water, wishing for something stronger, before putting it on the coffee table between them. She sighed. “We already have a terrible relationship. It will only help.”
    â€œAnd how do you figure that?”
    Exasperated, she let out a little screech. This conversation was exactly what drove her crazy about him. “For the love of God, it’s just sex. It won’t even be good sex. So let’s get it over with and go on our merry way.”
    His expression flashed before turning cool. He sat back in his chair and studied her in that level-eyed way he had. “What makes you think it won’t be good?”
    Okay, she needed to stop hoping to get a rise out of him. Most men rose to the