Tempting the Player by J. Lynn Read Free Book Online Page A

Five
    Bridget had always been a huge fan of Sundays. A lazy day where she pretty much stayed in her jammies, ordered out for delivery, and acted like a sloth.
    And bill collectors didn’t call on Sundays.
    She tugged her hair up in a loose ponytail and shuffled into the narrow, short hallway. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she walked into the end table beside the couch that was so in need of being reupholstered. Sharp pain shot up her leg.
    “Christ on a crutch!” She hobbled to the side and knocked into the over-stacked bookcase, knocking down several books. They smacked off the floor, each one causing her to wince.
    Pepsi, who’d been sprawled along the back of the couch, startled at the sound of her voice. The orangey hair rose on his back as he slid off the couch then hit the lamp on the end table as the feline shot toward the nearby recliner that had belonged to her parents. The lamp, which was heavy enough to dent the floor, tipped over.
    Bridget cursed and shot forward, catching the lampshade. Dust flew into the air and crawled right up her nose.
    She sneezed.
    And her sneezes weren’t the dainty kind that was barely a gasp. Poor Pepsi went bonkers at the nasal explosion and then darted under the coffee table. From there, two greenish-gold eyes peeked out.
    Once Bridget had the lamp righted, she backed away slowly, before any more furniture attacked her. As she stood there, she couldn’t help but look around her cramped living room and think of all the space in Chad’s.
    She cursed again.
    I will not think about him or his wonderful apartment where there was actually room to walk around. And I definitely won’t think of his magical mouth and tongue. The mantra had so not been working since Friday night. All day yesterday she’d avoided Shell’s calls just so she wouldn’t be tempted to tell her about what had happened between her and the city’s beloved playboy.
    But once her brain went there, it really went there. Memories of how he’d looked at her, the feel of his lips against her skin, and those fingers plagued her every step.
    Stopping in front of the door, she squeezed her eyes shut and her hands into fists. Were her legs trembling? Gawd. Yes. They were. For probably what was the hundredth time in the last thirty or so hours, she told herself that she had made the right decision by bailing on Chad. Come morning, he would’ve surely regretted bringing her home and honestly, in those few hours, she had already started to feel way too much for him.
    Way. Too. Much.
    Love at first sight didn’t exist but lust at first sight did, and powerful lust could quickly turn into something more. The last thing Bridget needed was a broken heart to go along with her broken wallet.
    She opened the door and quickly kicked her leg out. Pepsi, as expected, bolted toward the door. When he met the pink-and-blue-plaid obstacle, he sat down and put his ears back.
    “Sorry, bud—it’s for the best.” Bending down, she grabbed the Sunday paper just as the door across from her swung open.
    Todd Newton was doing the same thing, except Bridget had a hell of a lot more clothes on than him. Dressed only in his red-and-blue-striped boxers, he did have a body made for walking around in next to nothing. Normally Bridget was all about catching a glimpse of him, but after seeing Chad’s insane stomach, she barely raised a brow or felt any kind of stirring or interest.
    Glancing up as he straightened, he sent Bridget a warm grin. “Hey there, Miss Rodgers.”
Bridget smiled. “Morning, Todd.”
    His gaze dropped to where Pepsi glared at Bridget’s leg. She sent him another smile as she precariously moved her leg out of the way and shut the door just as Pepsi pounced. The damn cat hit the door with an audible thud .
    Sighing, she shook her head as she reached down and picked him up. “You’re going to have brain damage along with a weight problem if you’re not careful.”
    The cat let out a pitiful meow.
    Pepsi was what