Dare to Tempt Read online

  “I hear you, but it isn’t the same thing. I need my instincts, and if I can’t trust those, then I have issues I need to work through. And this is a reminder of my mistakes.” She held out her arm with the angry red scar running along her forearm.

  “I don’t want it exposed for me to see every day or be asked about it and have to explain the knife wound.” Because John, once he’d been caught, had been so angry, he hadn’t hesitated to hurt her.

  Tears formed in Quinn’s eyes and she pulled Evie into a hug, something she still wasn’t used to, even though Quinn had always been a hugger. Her brothers were more the shoulder-slapping types unless they were scared for her well-being, but they always had her back. Always. And they’d have gone after John if she hadn’t insisted she didn’t want them to end up behind bars.

  “Okay, fine. I’m not going to give up trying to convince you that you’re the strong, kick-ass woman you always were, but wear that dress. When he gets a look at you, Damon is going to swallow his tongue. Now let’s see the shoes.”

  A couple of hours later, Quinn had gone home to see Austin and Jenny, her adorable little baby, and change for tonight.

  Evie stood in front of the mirror once more and she didn’t recognize herself. It had been a long time since she’d dressed up for any reason or gone all out for any occasion.

  She’d put self-tanner on her legs, arms, chest, and face, because she never had the time to relax and lie in the sun. Her face was completely made up, including wearing false eyelashes, her lips were plump, and her brown eyes wide.

  The dress accentuated her curves while the designer red-soled heels hurt her damned feet. Though she had to admit she liked the Chanel purse she owned for times when she had to look a certain way. And tonight? She appeared every inch the pro football player’s girlfriend. Damon Prescott wasn’t going to know what hit him.

  * * *

  Given his concussion symptoms, Damon couldn’t drink alcohol. It was hard enough to hold up his head, but he understood the need to be at the bar. If he wanted to discover who had set him up, he had to put a plan in motion, and testing Evie and their chemistry was a start.

  He occupied a table at Allstars. On one side of Damon, Austin and Quinn were cuddled close together. Bri sat next to her friend Macy Walker, and beside her was Damon’s brother Jaxon, who never missed a chance to go out and party, even if the night was a mellow one.

  Behind them but at a nearby table, close enough to share conversation if they wanted to, were other guys from his team, Devon White, his running back, and James Slater, his wide receiver.

  Marnie, the cocktail waitress, an auburn-haired, stunning woman, knew most of them by name and took drink orders, fawning over Damon and his injury.

  Beside him, Austin shifted in his seat so many times Damon grew agitated. “Bro, what the fuck? You’re annoying as hell.” Damon elbowed Austin in the arm.

  Quinn grinned. “Your brother took Marnie home the night he found Jenny on his doorstep.”

  Damon tipped his neck back and burst out laughing, immediately regretting the motion when his head began to pound. “I have to admit that was worth the pain.”

  Austin shot him a dirty look, but Quinn merely cuddled up closer to Austin and continued to smile.

  “At least you’re not the jealous type,” Damon said to the pretty woman with dark hair and green eyes, who seemed custom-made for Austin.

  Not that they hadn’t had their issues. Between Quinn not wanting kids, Austin being handed a baby by another woman, and Quinn being his brother’s assistant, they’d overcome a lot in a short time.

  “That’s only because Marnie’s keeping her distance from your brother.” Quinn’s gaze traveled across the room to where Marnie filled drinks by the bar.

  “And that’s because you’re wrapped around me, staking your claim. Besides, I only have eyes for you.” Austin leaned over and pressed a kiss against her lips.

  “You two are making me want to barf.” Bri picked up her bottle of Blue Moon and took a long sip.

  “Amen.” Jaxon lifted his drink in agreement.

  Macy, an attractive woman with long blonde hair, followed suit.

  “So Macy, you feel the same way? No commitment for you?” Jaxon asked, his eyes glittering with interest in the attractive woman who was their sister’s good friend.

  She shook her head. “I’d never have the time.”

  Jaxon nudged her arm. “There’s always time for fun.”

  “Says the man who helps keep social media active?” She fluttered her lashes at him and refocused on Bri. Obviously, she had Jaxon pegged.

  And his brother, not used to being dismissed, frowned, causing Damon to chuckle.

  Jaxon shot him the finger and Damon laughed harder. Macy had moxie and he liked her. Bri and Macy had met recently at an exercise class and become friends. From the little Damon knew, Macy had her hands full with the stepsister she was raising. Her life was complicated and Bri tried to get Macy out to have fun whenever she could. And if she knocked Jaxon down a peg, even better.

  Damon turned from his amusement for the night and glanced at the entrance to the bar. A couple stood at the hostess stand, where they were led to an empty table. He watched them be seated, waiting for Evie, growing annoyed that she couldn’t make it on time like everyone else.

  From behind him, James let out a low whistle. “Now she’s fucking hot.”

  Damon turned to look. A brunette, her hair hanging in long, spiral curls, stood at the hostess stand, looking down. A short black dress with one sleeve clung to a rocking body. Her legs were long, her heels high, and if his head weren’t still throbbing, he could imagine them wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her, hard and deep.

  She lifted her head and immediately met his gaze. He found himself looking at a bombshell with pouty bright red lips, cat-like liner around her brown eyes, and a knowing smirk on that familiar mouth. “Holy shit.”

  “I think this is what they call Damon eating his words,” Austin said, sounding amused.

  “You didn’t think she could do it, did you?” Quinn met his gaze, judgment in her expression, and she was right.

  “No, I did not.”

  Before he could say more, Evie sashayed across the room, every male eye on her as she strode directly toward him. Her stare locked on his, she stopped in front of him.

  “Hi, honey. Sorry I’m late.” And with that pronouncement, she sat down in his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and settled her mouth against his.

  He stiffened in surprise and she slid her tongue over his bottom lip, causing his cock to rise and his mouth to part. Next thing he knew, he’d gripped her neck, pulled her tight against him, and was kissing the hell out of her in public.

  Damon had made out with many females, but he’d never wanted to get lost inside a woman the way he did with Evie. Evie. Jesus. Sanity threatened to return, but she ran her fingers through his hair and he forgot he’d been about to pull back. He slid his tongue over her lips and speared inside once more.

  A whistle broke the moment, and Damon jerked his head back, taking the pain as his due. What had he been thinking, devouring Evie in a place he frequented? It was one thing to test the theory of them being plausible as a couple, another to stake a claim on her.

  “You didn’t tell us you had yourself a hot woman,” James said. “Keeping her to yourself?”

  Damon drew in a calming breath. His dick wasn’t cooperating and he was certain Evie felt it against her thigh, but he needed to sell them and now was the beginning.

  “We were keeping our relationship quiet, but after Damon’s injury, we decided life’s short, why hide our feelings?” Evie spoke before Damon could jump in with an explanation. “Right, honey bear?”

  He caught himself before he glared her way. He cupped his hand on her thigh. “Right, snookums.”

  From beside him, he heard his siblings stifling laughter. But he had to admit, he’d underestimated Evie Wolfe. She could definitely pa
ss as an NFL player’s girlfriend and he didn’t mind having her acting as his.

  “Okay, let’s discuss things,” Austin said in a low voice. “Now that we know you two can act as a couple, Evie, what’s your plan?”

  “I’d like to talk to my boyfriend alone and in private. Get a recounting of what happened, find out who he thinks could have it in for him on the team.” She shifted on his lap, leaning back to look into his eyes, and though he didn’t know if her thigh movement was deliberate, his body liked the feeling of her rubbing against his cock.

  He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come by my house tomorrow morning and we can discuss things.”

  She nodded. “That works.”

  Austin stared at them, taking in her arm wrapped around his neck. “You two also need to learn about each other and get your stories straight on how you met, how long you’ve been together under the radar, things like that.”

  They both nodded.

  As the family dispersed, Damon met Evie’s gaze. “I think you can get your own seat now. Or even better, it’s time to go home. I don’t think my head can take much more. I need to lie down.”

  Concern etched her pretty features. “I didn’t realize you were still in pain. You didn’t drive here, did you?”

  He knew better than to shake his head. “No. I took a service.”

  “I’ll bring you home. My car’s a little small but you can squeeze in.”

  He noted she remained on his lap, her thighs on his still-hard cock. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

  She tilted her head, causing those gorgeous curls to spiral over her shoulder. “And leave my boyfriend to go home alone? Nope. Let’s hit the road, honey bear.”

  Finally, she stood up, but that left him in an awkwardly hard situation.

  * * *

  After Evie dropped him off, Damon climbed into bed, nude, as usual. He lay back against the pillows, remembering the moment he’d realized the gorgeous woman at the hostess stand was Evie.

  She affected him, the tough PI and the soft woman who’d sat on his lap. What a mix of contradictions she’d turned out to be. He thought he’d noticed her due to her alluring features, but Evie was more than a good-looking woman. Apart from the fact that she also rocked a dress like a goddess, she was not just smart but intelligent.

  And she kissed like a fucking dream. Just the thought of her mouth on his, her thighs on his lap, and his cock thickened at the memory of how badly he’d wanted to thrust up and have more than just a pretend moment in time. He could even imagine it. Her eager and willing in his arms, tasting like the sweetest treat, her swiveling hips nearly causing him to come in his pants.

  As he thought of Evie, he gripped his dick and began to work his palm up and down his shaft. But unlike in the past, he had a face to the woman holding him in her hand. Eyes closed, he envisioned it was Evie’s palm and not his own, her grip tight, pre-come helping to lubricate as he slid up and down.

  He thought about her dark hair draping across his chest, her full lips, mouth parting to suck him in deep until he hit the back of her throat, and it didn’t take long. Suddenly he was coming hard, spurting over his abdomen and hand.

  He blew out a long breath and groaned, wondering how long his palm was going to be a substitute for the real thing. He cleaned up and went to sleep, the woman he couldn’t forget on his mind.

  Chapter Two

  The following morning, Evie arrived at Damon’s house ready to talk to him, gain an understanding of his situation, and discover how he’d reached the point of testing positive for PEDs. She wanted lists of his friends, enemies, anyone jealous of him, and anyone he’d interacted with over the last month.

  She hadn’t been able to chat with him last night. He’d fallen asleep in the car on the way home, his knees squished up to his chest in her front seat. And she was definitely as concerned about his injury as she was about his test results. She’d driven, occasionally catching a glimpse of him as he dozed. His superstar arrogance, his expensive clothing, and the gorgeous, chiseled face contrasted with her down-to-earth way of looking at the world and her basic clothes from Target. Not that she’d worn them today.

  Knowing his situation made him a magnet for paparazzi, she dressed up in case she was photographed coming or going from his house. There were cars lined up the street, and she was certain paps with long-range lenses were inside, making her glad she’d thought ahead and looked the part of a woman a man like Damon Prescott would date.

  In the real world, they couldn’t be more different, but she was drawn to Damon anyway. Not for one minute did she believe he’d cheated in the sport he loved. And that was one of the most appealing things about him, his dedication to his career. Okay, there were also his soft lips that knew how to devour her mouth like the professional player he was.

  The kiss meant for show had turned into something that felt real. His tongue delving between her lips and tangling with hers, her nipples pebbling beneath her dress, and the moisture in her thong had all been genuine. So had the thick erection she’d felt pressed against her thigh. She pushed those unwanted thoughts away because, attraction aside, they were like oil and water. And he had no desire to be with a woman like her.

  He’d made that perfectly clear when the idea of her playing his girlfriend had come up, which was why she’d gotten a definite jolt of satisfaction at the look on his face when she’d walked into Allstars last night. His gaze had darkened, that gorgeous stare settling on her lips, and she’d never felt more feminine and powerful. But at the end of the day, she was who she was, a woman who liked casual clothing and speaking her mind, and she didn’t want to care whether a pro football player found her lacking in any way.

  She rang his doorbell and, when he didn’t answer, hit the button again. His house was located in an exclusive Miami neighborhood, a huge structure with gorgeous colored shrubbery, trees, and flowers surrounding the white stucco set back from the road. A gate surrounded the perimeter of the house, open at the drive. And neighbors were far apart, further proof that the cars did indeed hold paparazzi looking for the million-dollar photograph.

  She rang again, growing concerned.

  She was about to knock once more when the door opened and a sexy, disheveled Damon stood before her. He wore a pair of low-riding gray sweatpants that revealed more than they covered, and her stare lingered on the bulge in his pants and the deep V on the sides of his hips.

  He cleared his throat.

  Caught, she forced her gaze up past his tanned chest to meet his amused expression, heat rising to her face. But as he took in her carefully made-up face and chosen outfit, his indigo eyes darkened with definite approval, making her glad she’d chosen the white low V-neck lace camisole tank that revealed a good amount of cleavage, her beloved leather jacket that covered her scar, a pair of tight designer jeans, and a pair of high wedge shoes that showed off her coral-colored toenails.

  He met her stare and grinned.

  She forced a smile at the damned good-looking man. His hair appeared as if he’d run his hand through it … or had just gotten out of bed, and she wished she’d been there with him. The errant thought rushed through her and she stifled a groan. She was here for business. Even if that kiss last night and that hot body now had rocked her world.

  “Did I wake you?” she asked, hoping she sounded composed.

  “It’s fine. I just need some coffee.” He turned and walked away, apparently expecting her to follow him.

  “I take it you’re not a morning person,” she said to herself and shut the door.

  She found him in the kitchen with a K-cup in hand. “Want one?” he asked before popping it into the machine.

  “No, thank you.” She’d had her caffeine earlier at home. “Are you up to talking?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Just dealing with the remnants of this head injury. It’s annoying as fuck. I’m not used to the constant spinning, throbbing, and general dizziness. And if I win the appeal, t
hey’re not going to let me play until I can pass concussion protocol.”

  “I’ve read up on that.” She nodded understandingly.

  He gestured for her to take a seat at the table, and she chose a chair and lowered herself into it.

  His coffee finished dripping into a large mug, and he sat down, obviously taking it black. “So, what do you want to know?” he asked as he took a sip.

  She pulled a notepad from her purse, foregoing her phone app or taping. “I want your daily schedule, what you do, who you see, what supplements, if any, you take, things like that. Who likes you, who’s jealous of you, who tolerates you? And after we discuss your weekdays and friends, I want to know your weekend schedule for the last month including the women you’ve been with. So, take out your calendar and get to it.”

  “That’s pretty thorough,” he said, sounding impressed.

  She nodded. “It’s going to help us figure out who’s setting you up.”

  He placed the mug on the table, picked up his phone, and leaned back in his chair, scrolling through his apps, she assumed.

  “Okay, on a normal day, when I’m not suspended, I wake up around five a.m., drink a smoothie—”

  “Where do you get the protein powder?” she asked.

  “From my trainer, recommended by him and my backup quarterback. When I’m at the stadium, the puppy dog brings me one every morning.”

  She jerked her head up at the nickname. “Puppy dog?”

  Damon smirked. “Gregory Emerson’s a lick-my-balls—” He cleared his throat. “I mean a lick-my-ass kind of kid. Not great at throwing the ball, which is an issue, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  She narrowed her gaze, not as sure as he was, and wrote down the name on her notepad. “Go on. What’s next on your schedule?”

  “I get dressed, head to the gym at the stadium. I work out with Jimmy O’Roarke, the head trainer.”