Escorting the Player (The Escort Collection 3)

"Avery, grab two beers." Chase grinned at me from the pool. "It's the nicest day ever. The water feels great." I went to the outdoor fridge and grabbed two IPAs. I brought them over and handed him one, threw off my cover-up, and proceeded to jump into the pool.

Chase's grin had turned appreciative. "You look pretty good in that suit. Did you put that on for me?"

Electricity crackled through me, but I just shrugged and stayed on my side of the pool. "I wear what they packed for me." A silence fell between us. Great. Way to mention the escort service and kill the mood, Avery.

"You haven't told me much about yourself," he said. He grabbed a floatie and hung onto it as he took a swig of beer. "It doesn't seem fair—you know I love old houses, football and beer. And you know about my ex and my douchebag of a cornerback. But what about you?"

"Oh. Huh. There's really not that much to tell…" I decided this was a good time to go underwater. Maybe if I stayed there long enough, he would forget what he'd asked me.

I came up for air and he was still there, floating calmly. "Are you avoiding the question?" He swam over to the side, grabbed the other beer, and handed it to me. "Drink. Drink some more. Then speak."

I sighed and did as I was told. The man was a quarterback. He wanted me to follow the play, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Omaha. Tell me about your life. Two, four, six, hike!

"I'm originally from Rhode Island. My sister and I live in Somerville now. I'm a waitress at a lovely buffet-style dining establishment, the Sizzling Ranch. You ever heard of it?"

Chase grinned at me. "I'm a big fan of their wings."

"No you are not," I said.

"Oh yeah. I am. And their buffalo dip."

"I manage the dip—I fill all those containers," I said, mock proud.

"That's hot," Chase said, flirtatiously, and took a sip of beer. He floated closer and a little thrill went through me. So many muscles. I watched as water beaded on his massive chest and ran down his pecs in rivulets. He looked like a Greek god.

And he was looking at me as if I were a mere mortal…that he was about to plunder.

"You know, I've been thinking…" he said.

r />

I shivered. "About what?"

"About… Food."

I felt deflated but I laughed. "You want that lasagna, don't you?"

"Will you please make it for me tonight? I can have my service pick up any ingredients you need. Just make a list, babe."

Babe. I loved it when he called me that. "Of course I will." Like I could say no to those pecs or those big blue eyes.

"You're the best. I mean it." He floated closer and I held my breath. I really wanted to give him something more than just lasagna.

"There's something else I'm thinking about." His eyes locked with mine. "And that's you and what we did the other night. I can't stop. And that bikini's not helping."

I smiled at him, but my heart was beating wildly in my chest, and a fluttering, nervous little bird of hope rattling around in there.

"What I said before…after we, you know… About not wanting you to service me…that was true. I meant it." He came closer and I noticed I was shaking, probably from restraining myself. I wanted to feel those muscles. I wanted those lips on mine, and I wanted to trace the scruff that was growing in on his handsome face.

But I wasn't in charge here.

"I don't want to do anything that's going to hurt you," he said softly. He was close enough for me to touch him, but I didn't dare. "I don't want to take advantage of you, babe. I couldn’t live with myself."

I swallowed hard. "What do you want?" I asked.

His eyes burned into mine. "I want to service you. I want to make you come again. I want you to scream my name, like you did before." He searched my face. "But I feel like I'm being selfish."