Page 62 of Bluffed By the Offense

Her hand—the one that was lazily dangling over my shoulder—moves slowly as she trails her fingers along my collar and across the bare skin on my neck, nails dragging lightly, sending a ripple of chills and goosebumps in her wake. And then her fingers move higher, up the nape of my neck to toy with my hair. She scrapes her nails along my scalp, never breaking eye contact, a soft, purposeful smile on her lips.

My jaw flexes and my nostrils flare. I keep my eyes fixed on hers.

Never let them see you sweat.

The victorious smile that breaks out across her face fuels my fire. A winning play doesn’t cinch the game. I’m still in this.

I splay the hand that’s on her back and start rubbing gentle, soft circles over the shimmery fabric of her dress, ignoring the feel of the silk under my hand.

She sucks in a breath, but then gives me a side eye. Her fingers leave my hair and her palm runs along my neck to just below my ear and down my jawline, slowly, as if she’s counting my stubble one hair at a time with her fingertips.

I need a real date.

It’s been too long since a woman touched me. That’s why my body is suddenly on high alert.

I’ve been holding our joined hands out to the side in a respectable dance stance. Now, I move my thumb in a caress over the back of her hand as I draw our hands to my chest, placing them over my heart. She swallows and her eyes go momentarily wide before narrowing into an expression that says she doesn’t think I’m playing fair.

This is blood sport. Fairness and rules left the field the moment she whispered in my ear back at the table.

She catches me off guard when she leans in, standing on tiptoes to place her mouth at my neck. I brace myself for the feel of her breath on my skin, ready for her to speak softly. But she stays there, her cheek now pressed to mine, her body close, my heart privately jackhammering.

Just when I think she’s finished making her move, she whispers, “How you doing, Delaney? Still holding up okay?”

I chuckle, but it gets caught in my throat, mingling with a breath that’s coming shallow and rushed. She smells like lemons and sugar. Like a grove of citrus trees in summer—wild and inviting.

I have to put distance between us, so I grip her hand and propel her away in an unexpected twirl, tightening my arm muscles to control her so she doesn’t fall. She flies out into the open space on the dance floor and then, just as quickly as I sent her away, I draw her back in, spinning her toward me until she lands, palm on my chest, eyes wide, breathless.

She’s dazed for only a moment. The band plays behind us singing lyrics about games people play. Cass lifts her hand and traces my collar, dragging her pointer finger along the line where it meets the skin on my neck. Then she straightens my tie and her posture.

She’s not giving in. The game is tied.

Without a second thought, I reach over and gently push a lock of her hair away from her forehead, grazing my finger over her temple. The move is intimate and far less tinged with combat than any I’ve made tonight.

Her eyes lock on mine, but there’s a softness there, as if my tenderness broke past her defenses for the briefest moment. She leans in, palming my cheek, staring up at me, swaying in time to the music and my movements. Her hand roves back until she’s cupping my neck.

My head is swimming with her scent, the look in her eyes, this game.

I bend in and kiss her temple at the spot where I pushed her hair away. It’s the lightest brush of my lips against her skin. So brief it almost didn’t happen. But it did.

What did I just do?

I pull back.

I fumbled. I lost the ball.

For just a second, I forgot she was my opponent.

Her face is as confused as my thoughts.

“Did you just kiss me, Delaney?” Her voice is soft and raspy.

Her eyes narrow and her brows draw in. “Why? Why did you kiss me?”

She’s not unaffected, her face is lightly flushed.

I don’t have an answer. Why did I kiss her? We were upping the ante. My moves were calculated. Tit-for-tat. Then I kissed her.

The song ends and Bruno Mars’s 24K Magic starts playing while the band takes a break. Winona rushes over, sticking her pinky in the air and shouting the lyrics to Cass over the music. Cass blinks once at me and then turns her attention to Winona. They jump up and down to the music, and the whole atmosphere shifts. Pierce, Linc and O’Connell gather around, pulling me into a dance with the rest of the group.