Once Upon a Power Play Read Online Free Page B

sweet, and mind-blowing. And jackass or not, she kind of wanted another one. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so thoroughly kissed. Probably never. The guys she normally dated were a little lacking in the passion department. She’d never kissed a man with facial hair before and she was surprised to discover she didn’t hate it. There was something very masculine about the way it scratched her face, no doubt leaving her lips red and swollen.
    Oh, who was she kidding? Everything about him was masculine. It wasn’t just his size. It was his protective nature. He was a throwback to another age. With a little encouragement, he’d probably throw her over his shoulder, tote her upstairs, and screw her eight ways to Sunday. She just had to say the word.
    Too bad she’d sworn off men just an hour ago. She was over them. Completely. Totally. Over them. On the other hand, she didn’t feel like being alone tonight. What harm could come from one little drink? Or one more kiss, for that matter? They’d been through hell. They deserved it, didn’t they? The words were on her lips before she could stop them. “Come up for a drink?”
    He followed her up to her apartment, quiet as a mouse. A really big, hulking mouse who oozed testosterone.
    Once inside, she shrugged off her coat and headed straight to the kitchen. After that little firestorm, she needed a drink more than ever.
    “So, why are you dressed up anyway?” he asked, looking totally at home in her tiny apartment and making the space seem even tighter than usual. “Going to a party?”
    “Hardly.” She pulled a bottle of Jose and a shaker from the cabinet. “I was supposed to be on a date tonight, but the douche canoe blew me off via text. Thus the margaritas. Lime?”
    Their fingers brushed as he handed over the fruit, unleashing a flurry of butterflies in her belly. “A text?” he asked, incredulous. “Are you shitting me?”
    “Afraid not. I don’t know about you, but I plan to get lit up like a Christmas tree,” she said, refusing to feel bad about it. “And then I’m swearing off men indefinitely.”
    “That’s a shame.” He devoured her with his eyes, his gaze lingering on her curves, appreciating all the parts she’d wished to change a thousand times over. Another wave of arousal crashed through her. “And for what it’s worth, he’s a fool.”
    Maybe she’d been too hasty in swearing off men, because Ryan the Jerk was looking pretty damn fine. And judging by the dampness in her panties, her body wholeheartedly agreed.

    R yan watched while Chloe quickly and efficiently mixed their drinks. His gaze travelled the small apartment, taking in the cozy, lived in feel of the place. Despite the chill creeping through the ancient living room window, it actually felt warm, like a real home. The walls were covered with pictures, the floor littered with shoes. It suited her larger than life personality. It was also the complete opposite of his sterile apartment, which his ex-girlfriend had decorated to mirror a Pottery Barn centerfold. Half the time, he felt guilty sitting on his own damn couch, like he was going to ruin the place just by living in it.
    Dumping all thoughts of his ex, he stepped up to the bar where Chloe was slicing the lime like a pro. She was perfectly at ease in the kitchen, something he hadn’t expected. After all, she was more Kim Kardashian than Martha Stewart. “You’re pretty good with a knife.”
    She raised her brow and laughed. “I can’t cook worth a damn, but I make a mean drink. It put me through school. You name it, I can mix it.”
    “Really? What self-respecting bartender uses a pre-made mixer?” he asked, even though he could picture it clearly. With her attitude, she’d be a great bartender, not taking shit from any of the drunk guys who were sure to spend all night hitting on her and ogling those perfect breasts. Or that ass. It wasn’t exactly a leap to imagine her rolling around in his sheets