Page 38 of Playboy Pitcher

He raises an eyebrow. “At ten o’clock at night?”

“Ben, this is Jupiter, Florida. The Mays name could open a bank vault.”

“I have to be at practice at six a.m.”

“Be late.”

“I can’t,” he bites out.

I let out a frustrated grunt. “For fuck’s sake, you’re not going to get sent to the damn principal’s office, Ben. The only person who can fire you for being late is the owner, and since she’ll be knee-deep in the same pile of shit, I’m pretty sure she’ll give you a pass.”

He hesitates, his eyes drifting toward my exposed thighs. “I don’t know, Willow.”

Nope.In the boat you go, LaCroix. I have fish to fry.

As nonchalantly as possible, I scoot forward, allowing my dress to ride up a little higher.Play hard, play dirty.“If we leave tonight, we can get a hotel room and get it done when the courts open at eight a.m. We can be back in Jupiter by late afternoon.”

His eyes darken. “What am I supposed to tell Hoyt?”

Smiling, I lean forward with a wink. “You leave Hoyt to me.”

“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”

“You know it’s a good deal. I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime, Ben. A dream on a silver platter. All you have to do is reach out and take it.”

Okay, so maybe Iaccidentally-on-purposeshoved an innuendo in there. And maybe I pressed my knee against his hand as an added incentive. I’m an independent woman, not a stupid one.

Take the bait.

Ben’s chest expands, then slowly deflates. When his hand brushes over my knee and grips my thigh, I want to fist-pump the air. “I have conditions,” he says finally.

I’m off the couch before he can finish speaking. “I don’t have time for—” My momentum reverses when I’m grabbed from behind and tumble ass first onto his lap. Scowling, I glare up at his smug face.

“You need me a hell of a lot more than I need you, Puddles. So, you’ll make time.”

“Fine. What are yourconditions?”

“I want marital benefits.Allof them.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m not sleeping with you, Benson.”

His smirk turns wicked. “Who said anything about sleep?”

Nobody. Definitely not the massive erection currently poking my ass. Oh God, I have to get off. I mean get it off. Fuck, I have to get off him…now.

Grabbing the arm of the couch, I haul myself to my feet and turn around to glare at him. “I’m not fucking you either. This is a marriage of convenience. You don’t like me any more than I like you.”

“You don’t have to like me to ride my dick.”

“No,” I hiss. “Next condition.”

“Tell me how you know Drake Prescott and why he had you pinned against your car.”

Play hard, play dirty.

“Ben…” I groan.

Instead of giving in, Ben props his feet up on the coffee table and folds his arms behind his head. “Tempting offer, Miss McBaine, but I’ll have to decline.”