Play With Me Read Online Free Page A

happening to her?
    Behind Lace, someone started to dribble.  
    She whirled around, hoping it wasn’t one of the players. It wasn’t. It was someone…better or worse, she couldn’t make up her mind just yet.
    Silver Fucking March.
    As always, he was dressed like a model, a dark-haired, blue-eyed six-foot-plus angel in a pricey handmade pinstriped suit. Walked like one, too, his every step practically a demonstration of flawless grace. Did he not do anything wrong? Just looking at him made Lace hate herself more, the way she couldn’t do anything right.
    He suddenly passed the ball to her, but even though she was caught by surprise, she had no problems catching it. By reflex, she started dribbling, too, finding it almost soothing as she asked, “What are you doing here, March?”
    He stopped half a foot away from her. “Hello to you, too, Wyndham.” Before she could snarl at him, he added casually, “Horrible shooting, by the way.”
    Lace wanted to kill him. “Thanks for the compliment, ass—”
    A finger on her lips.
    She stilled.  
    Déjà vu.
    But more than that, she remembered. The thing she had done her best not to remember since they last saw each other.
    She remembered the way her heart beat so hard it was all she could hear, the way his lips felt so smooth and firm at the same time, and hot, so, so hot. She remembered the way her fingers shook when they curled around his length, remembered the way that part of him didn’t seem to stop growing in her grasp—
    Oh dear God, now that she remembered—
    When her gaze jerked to his, her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed red.
    “I don’t like it when you swear, little lamb.”
    She scowled. Actually, she had to force herself to, and thank God she managed. Thank God she managed to ignore the larger part of her, which wanted to submit to everything he said. It was so mortifyingly stupid, the way he made her feel so weak and girly with just one look. One word. One touch.  
    Pulling his finger away, he said in that beautifully smooth tone of his, “I saw how your practice went, too.”
    “Ah.” She was not going to cry. She was not. Not, not, not—
    Suddenly, she was in his arms, the ball falling from her fingers. Her tears started to soak his undoubtedly expensive shirt. She tried to shove him away, but he was too strong for her. It always surprised her, how someone as fashionable and gorgeous as Silver March could be so strong. Irritated her, too. Did his perfection know no end?
    “It was horrible.” God, was that really her talking? Like a damn crybaby? If she wasn’t careful, she might start sucking her thumb next. If that happened, she would kill herself. She really would.
    “Yes,” Silver said over her head. “It was. Even more horrible than your shooting earlier.”
    “I’m just having a bad day,” she said defensively, wiping away her tears. “I’m normally 9 out of 10, asshole—”
    “ Lace .”
    Her shoulders slumped, and even she knew the name-calling had been uncalled for. “Sorry.” She felt his lips brush the top of her head, and somehow that made her want to cry even more. “Don’t you dare pity me,” she said fiercely against his shirt.
    His smile was something she could feel more than see, and his tone was rich in amusement as he said, “Pity is the one thing I’ll never feel for you, little lamb. Lust, exasperation, anger, yes, but pity? You’re too strong to be pitied.” He pulled away, making her look up. When their eyes met, Silver said seriously, “You just forget sometimes how strong you are, that’s all.”
    She watched him turn away, frowning when he bent down to pick up a ball. Again, he tossed it to her without warning and again, she caught it handily.
    When he came to stand behind her, making Lace face the ring, she frowned harder. “I know how to shoot the ball.”
    “I’m sure you do.” But still, his hands covered hers. He whispered to her ear, “Close your eyes.”
    She said automatically,