Tangled (Playing With Fire)

“And if he’s not?” Drake’s brows lifted.

“If he’s not, then we won’t show up.”

He sighed. “The ball’s in your court, Scarlett. I have to give it to you.”

She hoped having that ball didn’t end up costing her everything.

Trevor couldn’t wait to get Scarlett alone. All day he’d been tortured, having h

er close yet not being able to touch her. She wanted their relationship to be kept on the down low, a secret from everyone at the theatre. At first he’d been more than ready to agree to it. He wasn’t one to let everyone know his personal business. Hell, everyone knew he couldn’t stick to commitment. He rarely saw a woman more than twice.

Scarlett had become the exception.

For whatever reason he’d started to feel offended by her secretiveness. Why didn’t she want people to know they were together? Was she embarrassed? By him?

The idea rankled. Pissed him off. They’d been in meetings the entire day. Discussions of what was happening with the new production, introducing the new actors joining them and the new crewmembers. Scarlett had led one discussion about the costumes and makeup, how extravagant it was going to be.

They’d been around each other all day and yet she’d barely looked at him. Could hardly bring herself to smile at him. He’d purposely stood next to her at one point, asking her in an intimate whisper if she was okay, and she’d given him a stark, cold yes as an answer.

That was it. Just one word and then she’d walked away.

Damn woman ran hot and cold and it drove him up the frickin’ wall. He didn’t tolerate this kind of shit. He didn’t have to. He always had his pick of women and if he tired of them, he moved on to the next one as fast as possible.

So why didn’t he want to move on to the next one? What made Scarlett so damn special that he was desperate to keep her around?

He felt a connection with her. And it wasn’t just a sexual one either though the sex between them was explosive. She always put up a little fight, as if she didn’t want anything to do with him until he wore her down. It took nothing for him to wear her down, either.

He figured she liked the fight. He knew he enjoyed the battle.

But she still wouldn’t let him all the way in. After that one night when she’d shared a few facts about her life, he’d thought he had her. That she’d capitulate and open up completely. Didn’t happen. No, more than ever she was closed mouth, quiet and only saw him to get her groove on.

Lord help him, he wanted more than to get his groove on. He wanted to establish a relationship with her.

Trevor Braxton did not do relationships.

Drake had kept calling him until a few days ago. Voicemails, suggestive text messages, the works. In the past Trevor would’ve been tempted, and he would’ve done something about it. Like meet up with Drake and fuck his brains out. Deep down inside he could admit he was tempted. That night with Drake had been pretty mind-blowing.

But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be unfaithful to Scarlett even though they hadn’t established any type of boundaries with whatever they were doing. This realization shocked the hell out of him.

Scarlett Goldsmith had turned him into a different man. A better man. Now if she could only open her eyes and see that, see him.

When it came to him, her eyes were still tightly closed.

He waited for her outside the theatre, the warm gush of the Santa Ana winds whirling all around him. The end of summer always brought the winds and the heat. Almost everyone complained and definitely everyone worried, afraid that those winds would bring fire and often they did.

Trevor didn’t like the fire part, but he had to admit he didn’t mind the hot wind. It heated his skin, his blood, made it boil and feel so damn alive. The wind caressing his skin at this very moment invigorated him and he paced outside the back door, waiting for her to come out.

She was taking forever. He glanced at his cell phone for the time, wondered if she was doing this on purpose. It was pissing him off, she was pissing him off and he didn’t appreciate her distant behavior any longer.

There needed to be a change. And he was going to demand it. Tonight.

The heavy metal door suddenly creaked open, startling him from his thoughts and he watched, dry mouthed as Scarlett walked out into the heady warm night. Her hair, that gorgeous wild curling hair, swirled about her head and with a look of disgust, she smoothed her hand over it to calm it down.

It didn’t work. He loved her hair. It gave her an uninhibited air. She wore jeans and a simple black tank top, a thin silver chain curling around her slender neck and big silver hoops hung from her ears. Nothing special, nothing outrageous yet she looked damn sexy. The denim emphasized the length of her legs, the cotton top hugged her breasts and nipped in waist.

She was sex personified. His every fantasy come to life. And he wanted to indulge in her, sink deep inside her and stay there.

For as long as she’d let him.