Changing the Game by Jaci Burton Read Free Book Online Page B

seafood.
    “So, are you a good seafood cook?” she asked, spearing her last mouthwatering bite of lobster salad.
    “I’m an excellent seafood cook. What would you like me to fix for you?”
    “I love seafood. Anything you cook, I’ll eat.”
    “I’ll have to take you fishing, see what we catch.”
    She studied him over her pomegranate martini. “I don’t fish.”
    He stared right back at her over his glass of whiskey. “You’ve tried it before and hated it.”
    “Not exactly.”
    “You’ve never fished.”
    “I’ve never fished.”
    “So I’ll teach you. You’ll love it.”
    Challenge. Again. “If you want me to go out on a boat with you, great. I’ll sunbathe. You fish. And don’t you have to play baseball or something?”
    He smirked. “I still get free time and use every minute of it.”
    “Once spring training starts, you’ll have games almost every day.”
    “Not every day. And games don’t take up the entire day. Why, are you trying to get out of our agreement?”
    “I said I’d stay, didn’t I?”
    “Good. You can come to my games. Or do whatever work you have to do. Schmooze some clients. Pick up new ones. Plenty of teams play around here. Do what you do best, as long as you’re in my bed every night.”
    Her body zinged with awareness. She’d wanted to be with Gavin since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, when he was twenty-two and she was almost twenty-six. She had felt like a dirty old woman back then.
    Now he was twenty-nine and she was almost thirty-three.
    “I’m older than you are, you know.”
    He laughed. “Where did that come from?”
    “I just don’t get the sudden attraction. You’ve never paid any attention to me before.”
    “Oh, I noticed you before.”
    “Still, we don’t have anything in common. The fishing thing, for instance. Plus the age difference.”
    “I know how old you are, Elizabeth, which isn’t even a factor. You think I can’t handle you? Want me to show you again?”
    She laughed and took a sip of her drink. “No, thank you.”
    He leaned back in his chair. “Bored with me already?”
    She inhaled a shaky breath. “Not quite. You still have a little tread on your tires.”
    His gaze went dark. “Yeah, I’ll show you a little tread on my tires. Go in the bathroom and take off your panties.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me.”
    “No.”
    “You want me to take them off of you out here?”
    “You wouldn’t.”
    “Wouldn’t I?” He finished his whiskey and slid his hand under the table, lifting her sundress.
    She slapped his hand away, then the realization hit.
    He’d asked her to change clothes.
    “You planned this.”
    His lips curled. “Maybe.”
    She looked around the fairly crowded restaurant. Granted, no one was looking at them. They had a semicircular booth, which meant they could scoot together and . . .
    No. She wouldn’t dare.
    “Do it, Elizabeth. You’re already wet thinking about it, aren’t you?”
    Her gaze shifted to Gavin, her thoughts gravitating to how he would do it. What if they got caught? How could she stay quiet?
    The danger aspect of it thrilled her. She wanted it, wanted him to shove his fingers inside her and make her come. Now. “Yes.”
    “Go take your panties off and let me make you come.”
    She grabbed her purse and hurried to the ladies room, dashed into a stall and slipped off her panties, tucking them into her purse. She stopped at the mirror on her way out. Her face was flushed, her pupils dilated with arousal. She was back at the table in no time, her pussy throbbing, her nipples beading against the soft fabric of her dress.
    She scooted next to him and reached for her drink, taking a long swallow to quench her thirst.
    Gavin leaned over and whispered in her ear while he lifted her dress to her thighs. “The tablecloth is long and will cover anything I’m doing. Put the napkin over your lap, and put some of those shopping bags against your other side.”
    She pulled the bags