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HERE FRIDAY 7 PM PST. CHRISTINA PHILLIPS AUTHOR OF: ONCE UPON A PLAYER (SEE EXCERPT)
7 PM PST.
Falling for the player was never part of the plan…
When my mum gets sick, I volunteer to fill in for her and clean some hot jock’s penthouse. I’ve heard all the rumors about him, so the plan is get in, clean some toilet bowls, and get out. After my last experience with a “sports hero,” I’m done with that sort of guy.
But Lucas Carter is full of surprises. He wants to help me clean and is nothing like the toad the press has made him out to be. Resistance may be futile for some girls, but not me. Then he asks me to help him with the interior design of his new place. I can’t say, no. It’s going to look great on my resume.
Unfortunately, spending time with Lucas is dangerous. He’s so charming and sweet, but I can’t let myself forget––once a player, always a player.
On Saturday night, Mac and Will arrive together, ten minutes before some of the lads are due to pick us up in the limo. No surprise that Caleb backed out. He’s as bad as Harry when it comes to socializing.
As soon as they’re through the door, Mac makes a big show of looking around the hall.
“Is she here, then?”
No need to ask who she’s talking about. “No. Violet had to work tonight.”
Mac gives Will a sideways smirk, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Wow. You did invite her, then.”
“Got a problem with that?” I know she doesn’t.
“Hell, no. It’s about time you introduced us to your girlfriends.”
“Where’d you meet her? You’ve never mentioned her name.”
I shoot Will a mocking glance. “I don’t tell you the names of every girl I know.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to know. But you’ve never been out with a girl like Violet before. You didn’t talk football once.”
Mac makes a disgusted sound. “You don’t really talk football with all the girls you go out with, do you?”
“They love it,” Will says. “It’s like foreplay.”
“Nice,” Mac says, giving him a filthy look. What’s up with them, anyway? They used to be great mates, but for the last couple of years, it’s like they can’t stand each other. She levels her gaze at me. “I hope you’ve got a better bedroom technique than discussing the never-ending controversy of the offside rule.”
“Will’s a dick. It’s not the football they like, it’s the lifestyle.” At least, that’s been my experience. Except for Violet, and despite what my sister and my big-mouth of a brother might imagine, we’re not even dating.
I phoned her this morning, and we’re doing the picnic in the park on Wednesday, but does that make it a date?
At least it’s turned Wednesday into something I’m looking forward to now, instead of dreading because that’s the day United flies to Hong Kong for the preseason tour.
“Is it serious between you?” Mac says, clearly not satisfied by my explanations.
“I told you last night. We’re just mates.” My phone goes, and it’s a text from Jax telling me they’ve arrived.
“Yes, but you’re mates with Yolanda, and I’ve never seen you ogle her the way you did Violet last night.”
I forget about Jax. “I don’t ogle.” I can’t believe my sister even said that. “I’m not a fucking sleaze.”
“Hit a raw nerve there.” Will grins at Mac, who blinks at him as though she has no idea what he’s talking about.
“You coming, or what?” I march to the front door, not entirely sure why I’m so pissed off with Mac. We’re always joking with each other, but there’s nothing funny if Violet thinks I was ogling her.
As we reach the lift, Will slaps me on the shoulder. “Take no notice of Mac. She’s winding you up. You weren’t ogling Violet last night. You just drooled a bit, that’s all.”
Every good girl loves a very bad boy…
Scarlett Ashford needs a date for her father’s wedding. Only she doesn’t just need a guy in a suit—she needs a bodyguard. The only problem is that Jackson Grayson is big and gorgeous and way too sexy. So much so that Scarlett’s tempted to let this hot bad boy ruin her oh-so-good reputation…
Jackson doesn’t do relationships and he certainly doesn’t sleep with clients. Yet he can’t fight their inconvenient attraction, or how badly he wants Scarlett’s warm and wicked curves against his body. He wants her. Now. Even if it’s just for one night, and even if walking away the next morning isn’t as easy as he thought.
Besides, one hot and incredibly intense night between a bad boy and a pampered princess could never turn into something real…could it?
Hold Me Until Midnight is a standalone romance
Scarlett stood, and then forgot how to breathe.
The man before her, taking up more space than any mortal had any right to, was over six feet tall, with muscles filling out his black tee to the point of indecency.
He looks like Thor.
Her mouth dried as she dragged her fascinated gaze up from his biceps.
Don’t think about his biceps. She focused on his stubble-darkened jaw instead, but that didn’t help. She’d never gone for the unshaven look before, but to hell with that.
Stop staring at him.
Good advice. A shame she couldn’t follow it.
The gossip at work hadn’t done him justice. He was so right for her purposes it was unnerving.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” the girl said. Scarlett had completely forgotten about her. She tried to ignore Jackson’s messy black hair, which brushed his collar. And failed.
Thor’s body. Loki’s hair. Could it get any better?
“Yeah. Thanks, Ella.”
Yes, it could. Even his voice dripped with sin. Dark and dangerous with a hint of deadly menace. Darts of pleasure stirred in places she’d almost forgotten she had.
How was that even possible? They hadn’t even touched, and she was more turned on than she’d been in ages.
The click of the shutting door cut through her lustful thoughts.
Pull yourself together. She was here on business. Jackson Grayson would never take her seriously if all she could do was drool over him.
She slipped on the coolly polite mask she’d perfected in boarding school and stepped toward him. “Scarlett Ashford.”
His hand enveloped hers. His grip was firm but the way his fingers brushed the back of hers was oddly intimate. He didn’t appear to be in any hurry to break contact.
Up close and personal it was hard to breathe. His face was rugged perfection. Just like his body.
She pulled her hand free with as much dignity as she could.
Who gets wet just by touching a guy’s hand?
She wanted to hire him for a specific job, not to share her bed.
Are you sure? *** Jackson folded his arms and leaned his butt against his desk. Although he’d run his own internet search on Scarlett Ashford before their appointment, it hadn’t prepared him for the reality.
Scarlett Ashford was fucking hot.
Her black shirt with matching pants and jacket weren’t especially sexy but she could probably wear a garbage bag and look good enough to eat.
“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”
Her voice was like honey—golden and rich.
“My pleasure.” It certainly was. After the shitty week he’d had, just looking at her was enough to lift his mood. Her glossy blonde hair fell in soft waves to below her shoulders, her skin was flawless, and her blue eyes gave her a strange sense of innocence.
An illusion. No one associated with the Ashford media and communications empire was innocent.
He pushed himself off the edge of his desk and waited until Scarlett took the chair he offered her before he sat down.
“You told Ella we’d been recommended to you. By who?”
“I’d prefer not to say.”
It had to have been a previous client. And no client would recommend a service they’d been unhappy with, so why did she feel the need to keep her source confidential?
He didn’t need another client, especially one who refused to answer the most basic questions. If she was being difficult now, the chances were she’d be a nightmare.
He should tell her he wasn’t interested. Except… he couldn’t.