Page 31 of The Wrong Game

She’d been hurt.

God, how I wanted to kill whoever hurt her.

Gemma shook it off — whateveritwas — and when she looked back at me, it was with a seemingly confident smile. “Hey, this was thepracticeround, remember?”

“Bullshit.”

“Look, you knew the deal when you asked me for this,” she pointed out, still smiling. “Don’t go changing the rules on me now.”

“You and your rules.”

“I’m doing this, okay?” she said, resolved. “I have a plan, and I’m sticking to it. Besides…” Her voice faded, hand playing with her hair over her shoulder. “I can’t do more than one night right now. With anyone.”

“Why?”

Gemma smiled then, as if whatever had passed over her was gone now. “So many questions all of a sudden.”

“I know. You should take me to the next game so you can answer them all.”

Gemma laughed, pressing one hand on my chest, and I let that hand walk me backward until I was in the hallway and she was standing in her doorway.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked. I couldn’t even hide my jaw on the floor.

“Look, it may not make sense to you, but I’m not trying to date. I’m not trying tofall in loveor whatever. I’m just trying to watch football.”

“And get laid.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

“Well, we didn’t get all the way there tonight,” I pointed out. “Maybe you need another practice round. Just in case.”

She gave me a pointed look.

“What?” I threw my hands up. “I’m looking out for you here. Really, you should be thanking me.”

She shook her head. “Okay, and onthatnote, I think it’s time to call it.”

“Gemma.”

“Tonight was amazing,” she said, cutting me off. “I had so much fun. Be safe getting home, okay?”

And even though my ego was bruised and beat to shit, I couldn’t help but smile as this gorgeous woman kicked me out of her place less than five minutes after I’d brought her to climax with my face between her legs.

I stopped her door from shutting all the way with one hand, shaking my head as I lowered my gaze to hers. “You are absolutely maddening, Gemma Mancini.”

She cocked a brow. “Aren’t you glad the practice round is over, then?” A slow smile spread across her lips, and she bit that bottom one like she knew it was the one thing that drove me absolutely insane. “Goodnight, Zach.”

With that, she twiddled her fingers, and I stepped back enough to let her close the door.

Well, shit.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the four black numbers that hung underneath the peephole on her door. I wondered if she was still on the other side, watching me, waiting for what I’d do next.

Just in case, I smiled.

Scrubbing a hand over my head, I took a few steps back, pointing my finger at the peephole. “This isn’t over,” I said, turning on my heel toward the elevator. “You and I both know it isn’t.”

I heard a giggle on the other side of the door, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. Gemma might have thought ourpractice roundwas over, that tonight was just one date to kickstart the long line of ones she’d have all season long.