Game Night

Page Count: 37
Word Count: 9339
Rating: Mature

Barnes & Noble    
You don’t have to like the game to love the player...

Salena Martin isn’t into sports and she can’t tell one ball from another, but whatever the season, Friday nights mean gathering at her best friend’s to watch “the game.” Unfortunately, the players on the wide screen don't hold her attention like steamy fireman, Trevor Branson. If he’d only let her in the game, they’d both score.


This title contains: explicit language, anal sex, and light bondage.

Rosette (37 pages)


The metal handle was cold against her palm, and yet she couldn’t make herself open the gate, needing, aching for any scrap of his attention. Hoping this time would be different.

“The game’s not over yet.”

“It is for me.” At least for tonight.

His citrusy cologne teased her senses as he sidled around her and leaned a shoulder against the privacy fence, near enough that if she stretched her index finger she could trace the fly of his jeans. Would he be hard?

“Don’t you want to stay and find out?”

Salena jerked her hand from the latch, and her gaze jumped from his crotch to his face. Heat crawled up her neck, and she thanked every star in the cloudless sky that the porch light wasn’t bright enough to reach this far into the backyard. That he couldn’t possibly see her blushing. And he couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. “Find out what?”

He cocked his head to one side, his close-cropped brown hair glinting in the moonlight. She’d always been attracted to men with longer hair, but Trevor kept his hair cut short like most of the firefighters in his unit and it worked well for him. Maybe because of the long sideburns that stretched along his jaw. “Don’t you want to know who wins?”

She shook her head and looked down at her bracelet, fiddling with the charms and tugging them around and around her wrist. If she looked at him again, she’d be lost. “Not a big basketball fan.”

He reached out to finger one of the golden charms then slowly trailed the teasing digit up her bare arm. “What games do you like to play?”

Copyright © 2018 The Wild Rose Press, Inc. Wilder