Page 8 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

I halfheartedly glance at the time, realizing that it seems to have slipped right by me.

I quickly snap up my phone, seeing a few messages from the guys to hit up Bozzelli’s.

Speaking of proving my father wrong. I quickly type out an affirmative message, closing out my computer and ordering an Uber.

“What do you do for work?” Estelle asks from across the bar-height table.

“I work in sales.” It’s easier not to elaborate or even give workplace names. Every now and then there are psychos on SoulSwipe. I’ve been messaging with Estelle on and off, but we aren’t on any sort of friend level. I’m hardly with the women who warm my bed, so you can never be too careful.

“Ominous.” She narrows her eyes playfully while taking a small pull of her beer.

Estelle looks even better in person than in her photos.

Not my usual type, she’s rather petite, blonde, and has this innocent aura about her.

The way she has flirted unabashedly tells me she is anything but the angel her exterior made her out to be, but I was just struggling to find any actual desire to take it further. She just wasn’t doing it for me.

“Enough about me, tell me about you.” I direct her away from personal details.

“What do you want to know?” she asks, and I take a step closer, tucking a loose hair behind her ear and giving her my signature grin.

“Where you got this perfume from because you smell incredible.” She blushes as expected, and I trail a delicate finger gently across her jaw to her chin and lift it so her eyes meet mine, trying to channel lust, bravado, and hitting her with the sparkle that has a 100 percent panty-melting strike rate.

As if on cue, she swoons and leans into my touch.

Like taking candy from a baby.

“I’m not wearing any perfume,” she whispers.

“Must just be you then.” I make a conscious effort to hood my eyes and bite my lip. I’m getting tired and suddenly eager to get this night under way so I can get a longer sleep. I have a lot of work to get done tomorrow.

As I trail a hand down her arm, I lean forward to whisper in her ear, and that’s when I see her.

Across the bar, she would be impossible to miss, her shoulder-length bouncy curls, her wide and ferocious smile that makes me ache, and those big brown almond eyes layered with the thickest lashes you’ve ever seen.

The sight of her, as always, causes a mix of emotions.

I’m annoyed and frustrated, because the woman is the most stubborn person in history…

I am also suddenly horny. There is no mistaking the way my heart kicks up a notch.

Something like excitement floods my veins.

I can’t help it, it happens every time she is near.

Getting under her skin is like my own version of a high.

That shit gets me off, and I love the way I can rile her up.

I know all her little tells better than her closest friends.

Better yet, I love that she hates I can read her body language and she can’t work out how to hide it.

The problem is that we are friends…or frenemies, or whatever. We’ve fucked—had the most mind-blowing night of my entire life—and then I’ve pretty much offered my left nut and a kidney for a repeat. But Rosie holds strong to her rule, I am just starved for the challenge it created.

“Caleb?” Oh yeah, there is a woman right in front of me.

“Uhh…Sorry, I’ve just seen an old friend. I’ll be right back.” I don’t even make eye contact, because Rosie is wearing a tiny black leather dress and I want to slip my hand under it and find out if she forewent panties again.

“Are you serious?” Estelle is unimpressed. I don’t blame her, I’m being an A-grade dick right now.

“Sorry. This was fun though. I’ll call you.” I start to head toward Rosie, not in the least bit worried I’m probably interrupting her date.

Estelle mutters a “Don’t bother” under her breath and disappears into my distant memory. All I see is Rosie.

“Rosebud,” I say low, pulling on my signature half smirk, the one I know will give me the eye roll… There it is.

“ Cabrón .” She turns her back more to me, moving closer to her date.

She didn’t pick half bad. He’s about half a foot shorter than me but handsome.

Definitely hits the gym, and I’m detecting small-dick syndrome with the way he squares up, immediately insecure with my presence.

It warms me and I chuckle, sending him a wink over Rosie’s head.

“Can we help you?” her date asks me, a slight trace of anger in his tone. We, that’s cute, date boy.

“You can’t, but she can. She can definitely help me.”

“You are impossible.” She spins, flipping her hair, almost wiping me, and those blazing eyes spear me straight to the lungs.

“C’mon, Rosebud. I know your workdays are chaotic. Don’t you want just a little fun? Let’s play.” Her date inches closer to her, ready to step between us, but Rosie’s little chuckle has me leaning my chin in my hand on top of their table and gazing after her.

“I do want a little fun, that’s the whole reason I’m on a date,” she responds, full of confidence. Her eyes exude innocence, but I’ve seen behind that facade, there is nothing innocent about Rosie Garcia.

“You might be out of luck there, Rosebud. No one has ever uttered that f-word in front of this guy.” I make a point of gesturing to her date without dropping my smile or even looking at him.

“Ex cuse me?” Date boy is so mad, and it’s fantastic, because if there was anything Rosie finds more annoying than me begging for another night between the sheets, it’s insecure men who treat her like some damsel in distress…

“Down, boy.” She holds a hand up to him, and I don’t miss the little snarl of disgust she gives him, followed by a quick once-over before turning her skeptical smile back to me.

“And what game did you have in mind?” She narrows her eyes, her body faces the table but her attention is on me. Sorry, date boy, your night is over early.

“Most numbers tonight wins.” She shifts her body, now fully facing me, all but giving her date the cold shoulder.

I’ll give him some credit, he doesn’t back down easily.

Instead, he has a death wish, because he grabs Rosie by the arm and tries to pull her toward him.

I don’t even have the chance to straighten from my position before she’s yanked her arm out of his grasp, giving him a dirty look.

“ ándate a la conchetumadre. ”

“The hell?” He throws his hands up in frustration, delivering her a dirty look, and I have to bite my bottom lip not to laugh at his expense.

“Fucking slut. Fuck it, I don’t need this tonight.

” He downs the rest of his drink but none of the humor remains after those pathetic string of words.

This time, I do straighten from my stance at the table.

I don’t anger easily, but I don’t take lightly to disrespect either.

I meet Lucas’s eyes from across the bar and nod at him, gesturing toward her date. He returns the look and I watch as security follows him out of the venue.

“Really know how to pick them, don’t you, Rosebud?” I pull on a smile and the little vixen looks barely ruffled, her playful grin in place.

“I slept with you, so I suppose my douche radar is broken.” She raises an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks down her nose at me. I can do nothing but just eat it up.

“Lasting impression, was I?” She narrows her eyes slightly before averting her scrutiny altogether.

“So, the most numbers for the night wins. And what’s the prize?”

“Round two of the best night of your life?” Look, you can’t blame a guy for trying, right? Even if she has turned me down more times than I can count, I wouldn’t be where I am now if I had given up after the first no.

“Listen, pest, you need to stop shooting your shot. You’re wasting your breath, it’s not happening again.

” I sit with her words for a bit, tasting my drink and analyzing her features.

She can’t seem to make eye contact with me long enough to notice any firm expression on my face, she also hasn’t kept her hands still enough to be relaxed.

I get to her, and she hates it. Better yet, she wants to fuck again and hates it.

Bingo.

The long game is my specialty. Look, I’m in sales. My entire life revolves around wearing people down. Consistent persistence. She wants me, she just isn’t ready to admit it to herself.

I take a step closer, our arms brushing together, and it makes my dick twitch that she doesn’t budge. Instead, she challenges me with her laser focus.

“Fine. Winner gets to set the loser up on a blind date.” She smiles and tilts her head, opening her mouth to say something, but I see the loophole in my words and amend before she can claim it. “No excuses, no hints, and no backing out. Have to last the entire date.”

“That’s subjective, what’s an entire date?”

“Minimum two hours or the length of the activity. If he takes you to a movie, you have to stay for the whole movie or until two hours is up, whichever is later.” I raise my glass to sip, watching her lips move in a pout, pondering all the repercussions of accepting the play.

After almost a full minute, she seems to have worked out all the possible loopholes because she straightens, throwing her hand out to shake.

“Deal.” I shake her hand but hold firm and pull her toward me. She covers her shock well, but I see the way her eyes bulge slightly, the breath that hitches in her throat, but better yet, I see how she falls closer to me instead of pulling away.

I lower my head so my lips hover just above hers, and I whisper, “May the best man win.” I linger only a moment to tease her before reaching for my drink and heading off to collect my winning numbers.