Page 55 of A Game of Deception

The acknowledgment should have been a relief, but instead, I felt a crushing disappointment. I wanted him—now, consequences be damned. The realization was terrifying in its intensity.

I disentangled myself from him reluctantly, putting a few inches of water between us. His eyes were dark, his breathing uneven, his desire clear even through the distortion of the water.

In that moment, I made a reckless, potentially career-ending decision that flew in the face of all my careful planning. But I was tired of planning. Tired of calculating every move, of keeping my wants and needs buried beneath layers of career ambition and old grudges. And for once, I was going to take what I wanted without overthinking it.

“My place,” I said, my voice low and steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart. “Tonight.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprise giving way to heat. “Your place?” he repeated, as if making sure he’d heard correctly.

I nodded, a strange, exhilarating sense of freedom washing over me. “Use the back entrance. The one by the recycling bins. There’s a smaller chance of being seen.”

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features from merely handsome to devastating. “What time?”

“Nine,” I said, already calculating how long it would take me to get home, to prepare, to make sure there was no evidence of my research wall or the years I’d spent stalking him. “And Xander...” I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear, “don’t be late.”

I pulled away before he could respond, before I could change my mind. With a composure I didn’t feel, I waded to the steps and climbed out of the pool.

“That’s enough for today, McCrae,” I said, my voice impressively steady as I grabbed a towel. “We’ll continue this on Wednesday.”

I didn’t look back as I headed to the changing room, but I felt his eyes on me the entire way. As the door closed behind me, my heart was still racing, my body humming with unfulfilled desire.

What had I just done? Invited a player—a patient—to my home for what would undoubtedly be a night of breaking every ethical code I was bound by. Risked my career and my reputation.

And I didn’t regret it for a second.

15

XANDER

The memoryof Tara’s whispered invitation played on a loop in my head as I tossed a soccer ball from hand to hand, my fidgety ass unable to sit still.

“My place. Tonight.”

Her voice had been low, dripping with want, the words tickling my ear as water trickled down our bodies in the hydrotherapy pool. Hours later, I could still feel her body pressed against mine, wet fabric stuck to curves my hands knew by heart. Shit, I’d turned into a horny sixteen-year-old, watching the clock like it might speed up if I stared hard enough.

I squeezed the ball with both hands, trying to compact my wild thoughts into something less stupid. Nine o’clock felt like a damn eternity away, but I could see myself walking up those back stairs.

Then I had a realization so obvious I almost laughed at myself.

I had no clue where Tara lived.

“Fuck,” I muttered, collapsing onto the sofa. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She’d been clear about the time. About using the back entrance. But in that steamy moment with water swishing around us and horniness fogging my brain, we’d both forgotten the most basic detail—her fucking address.

I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over her contact. The fix was easy: text her and ask. Done. But something stopped me.

This wasn’t Tara forgetting. This was Tara being Tara.

Everything between us had been a calculated power game. Even our first hookup happened on her terms, in my space, when she decided it was time.

And now this—an invitation with a critical piece missing. Not a mistake. A goddamn test.

I hurled the ball at the wall, snatching it on the bounce.

Asking for her address felt like surrendering before our new game even started. If I wanted to be her equal—her partner in this dangerous fling—I needed to prove I could keep up, predict her moves, and beat her at her own game.

“Easy there, tiger. What’s up?”