Read The Playbook (a Secret Baby Sports Romance) for Free Online

cooperate. “I see that you have already worked up a sweat without me. Now that is not fair at all.”
    He was getting close, far too close, but like his feet, mine didn’t want to move, either.
    “People tend to do that in the gym,” I laughed, finding this conversation absurd but delightful. When was the last time I had talked to anyone who wasn’t required to talk to me by a contract or wasn’t related to me?
    He chuckled, the sound spreading a glow of warmth down into my lower belly. Idly, I wondered what would it be like to be touched properly by him? Besides, wasn’t this all just a fantasy anyway? Was he a slow lover, methodical and sure, or was he a fast lover, who liked to be more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy? But why was I putting all of this thought into a guy I barely knew anyway? Was it because he was drunk and I was, well, lonely?
    The thought struck me hard. Oh God, I was lonely. Here I was almost twenty-five without anyone in my life save my career… work that did not keep me warm at night. Now, Jacob Maddox, he could definitely keep a girl scorching hot at night, let alone warm.
    “What else do you do to work up a sweat?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling. I laughed nervously and looked away. I could feel the heat spread across my cheeks betraying how much I was enjoying standing there with him. The ache in my lower region intensified.
    Jacob took a step forward and I sucked in another breath, my lungs bursting with anticipation. When his hands grasped me around the waist, his fingers touching my bare skin, I nearly gasped aloud as the heat coursed through my body—it was almost overwhelming; the long forgotten touch of a man and the torturous heat he created. He pushed me up against the wall, the coolness of the concrete bricks cold against my back before his lips descended upon mine. I tasted the sweet beer on his lips then froze for a moment—surely I was dreaming? This couldn’t very well be happening to me, right now, with him, here at my place of work?
    Was he really kissing me, or was I imagining it all? I wasn’t too sure which would be worse. That I would be so desperate to conjure up a panty-melting fantasy, or that I was actually kissing a player.
    When his lips roamed lazily over mine, I heard myself sigh, my hands drifting up to his broad shoulders, the muscles honed from his long hours on the field. His tongue delved into my mouth; the sweet fire of his tongue touching mine sent sparks down my spine, curling my toes. Oh my .I had to stop this. But did I really want to? This was perhaps the hottest kiss I’d had ever had, everything I thought it could be and more. Who could have thought that it would be this mind-blowing? And what the hell had I been missing out on?
    The reality of who I was kissing came rushing back to me, full force, like a slap in the face. Jacob Maddox. I was kissing a football player, the one group of men I had sworn off completely. Not only that, I was kissing one that was due to be a patient—even if it was only an introductory meeting, a patient nonetheless. He was also a man I had no earthly idea about, not really. Sure I knew the tabloid playboy version of Jacob Maddox, but in reality I was kissing an absolute stranger. And yet it was delicious.
    Pushing at his shoulders, I broke the kiss, forcing him back so that I could get out from under him. With a hand over my mouth I turned away from him, needing to be far, far away before my body persuaded me to do something crazy.
    “Hey, wait!” he called as I hurried to the door, “I don’t even know your name.”
    I burst out into laughter, thinking how absurd that was. He did know my name, but he still didn’t know that the girl he was looking for and the girl he had just kissed were one and the same.
    I got through the door, hurried down the hall and encased myself in my office with the door shut in the span of a few seconds. Thank God we didn’t have our names on plaques by our