Read Tempting the Player for Free Online Page B

felt that way before. Part of her felt outrageously giddy and the other part… Yeah, she knew by the end of the night she was going to want to keep him.
    Not good.
    The water came on in the bathroom and the sound almost drowned under a sudden buzzing. She looked down and saw the screen on his phone light up. Her breath caught, and then her heart skipped a beat.
    The name Stella flashed across the screen, along with a tiny thumbnail picture of a woman everyone who shopped at Victoria’s Secret recognized.
    Bridget’s stomach dropped.
    She knew she shouldn’t look at the text popping up in the preview screen. It was wrong, a violation of privacy and blah blah, but she looked because she was a girl, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
    N town 2night & want 2 c u & repeat last wknd.
    It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out what happened last weekend, even though the chit texted like a sixteen-year-old with ADHD. How old was Stella anyway? If Bridget remembered correctly, she was pushing, like, twenty-two and had been modeling since she was fifteen. Her career hit it big with the bombshell bra or something.
    Before the text flickered out and was replaced by the black screen, Bridget got a good eyeful of the tiny picture of the model. Flaxen-haired and as tall as Bridget, the model probably weighed a buck ten. She was beautiful, with those lazy, smoky eyes that oozed sex appeal.
    And Chad had been with her last weekend.
    Realizing that, really understanding who he’d been with a mere seven days ago, doused her with ice water. Bridget’s panties, wherever they were, would probably serve as a dress for the Russian-born model.
    She glanced over her shoulder at the neatly made bed and the coal black comforter. She couldn’t picture herself there now, splayed naked before Chad—before a man who brought home supermodels .
    Super. Models.
    What was she doing here? Besides having the two best orgasms of her life—truth—she was so out of her element it was embarrassing. She could barely rub two nickels together, but her thighs definitely had no problem doing so.
    Bet Stella’s thighs were the size of Bridget’s arm.
    Bridget stood and wrapped her arms around herself as her gaze narrowed on the closed bathroom door, and for some universally messed-up reason, her self-esteem hit the crapper and then kept plummeting.
    Frozen at the foot of the bed, she wondered if Chad would have buyer’s remorse come morning. Then he’d tell his brothers about the chick he accidentally brought home. Oh God, Chase would so recognize her name and she would die of embarrassment.
    A ball of ugly emotions formed in her belly. She hadn’t felt this way since she had tried to fit into the prom dress her mom had saved up for, and she’d busted the zipper after falling off a crash diet. Or when her last boyfriend—a relationship that ended well over two years ago—brought up the newest diet craze everyone would be talking about. It had been his way of letting her know she needed to drop a few pounds. What a bastard.
    God, why must she think of this right at this moment? She’d grown to love her body, the power of a woman with curves.
    The only logical explanation, besides the fact that he’d been able to drive her home and appeared sober, was that Chad was three sheets to the wind.
    Swinging around, her gaze landed on where her clutch had fallen onto the ground near the closet. Her flight or fight response kicked in the moment she heard the water turn off, and her chest spasmed.
    In her head, she’d already left him. Now she only needed to follow through with action and not let the door hit her ass on the way out.
    …
    There was a real good chance Chad was going to come before he even got his pants off, which would be embarrassing to say the least.
    Damn, he needed a minute—lots of minutes.
    Shutting the bathroom door behind him, he turned on the cold water. Lust was swirling inside him, stringing him painfully tight. He couldn’t