The Play Mate (Roommates #2)
Kendall Ryan
About the Book
Smith Hamilton has it all—he’s smart, good-looking, and loaded. But he remembers a time when he had nothing and no one, so he’s not about to mess up, especially with his best friend’s little sister. That means keeping Evie at arm’s length . . . even though the once pesky little girl is now a buxom bombshell. A sexy blonde who pushes his self-control to the limit the night she crawls into bed with him.
Evie Reed knows she’s blessed. She has an exclusive education, a family who loves her, and a new job managing social media for her family’s lingerie company. But she wants more, like a reason to wear the sexy lingerie herself, and she has just the man in mind to help her with that. She’s crushed on Smith forever. Surely, tricking her way into his bed will force him to see her in a new, adult way.
Except that when Evie’s plan leads to disaster, she and Smith must decide. Should they ignore the attraction sizzling between them, or become play mates and risk it all?
Chapter One
My heart beat hot and fast and loud. Grabbing life by the balls would do that to a girl. I was standing right on the edge of something huge, and just needed the tiniest shove to jump in headfirst—if I was going to go through with this crazy plan.
“Come on, Evie,” my best friend said, cheering me on. “Let him butter your croissant.” Maggie giggled into her cloth napkin while I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not doing the nasty with some random stranger.”
I had bigger goals in mind, loftier goals that involved indulging in carnal pleasures with the man I’d always desired. I wasn’t some shy adolescent girl anymore. I was confident enough to admit what I wanted and go after it. This was going to be my gift to myself. A box to check off my bucket list before it was finally time to move on from my secret fantasies.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I know. You’ve set your sights on Smith.”
It was the twenty-first century. A woman could take what she wanted sexually without feeling cheap or abused.
Smith Hamilton was my older brother’s best friend. And come tomorrow night, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
The feminist inside me beat on her chest and let out a battle cry.
I was doing this.
I would make Smith my bitch.
And zero fucks would be given.
I swirled the ruby-colored wine in my glass, a smile uncurling on my lips. “He’s intelligent, well-educated, sinfully gorgeous, and unlike most guys our age, I’m betting he knows what he’s doing in bed.”
Maggie’s glossy pink lips pulled into a smirk. “He is hot. I’ll give you that.”
It was our last night in the quaint French village where we’d hiked, sampled local wine, and gorged ourselves on crusty bread and soft cheese. Tomorrow we’d hop on a train to Paris. From there, Maggie would be flying home to start her new job, and I’d be enacting Plan: Fuck Smith’s Brains Out.
Maggie and I had been backpacking our way through Europe for the past two weeks after graduating from college. To say we’d been sheltered at the all-girls school we’d attended would have been the understatement of the century. Now we wanted to sample all that life had to offer, and we were off to a pretty good start. I’d danced under the moonlight in Tuscany, dined on escargot in a French village, and risked my life climbing into the back of a motorbike taxi in Budapest. I’d seen world-famous landmarks and met local people. The one thing I hadn’t done was achieve a non-self-assisted orgasm. Awkward, I know. But I had just the man in mind to change all that.
Nodding, I took another sip of my wine. Smith was hot. And tall. And sinfully sexy. I had to cross my legs to stifle the pressure building there.
I let out a sigh. No. This was just about sex. I wouldn’t allow myself to pore over his every amazing quality, though there were many.
Even when I’d been an annoying little girl and he and my brother were teenagers, he’d been kind to me. While my brother had no problem yelling at me to get out of his room and slamming the door, Smith would drop to his knees so we were eye level and pat my head, saying if I left them alone for a little while, he’d come look at my pet frog later. He was always nice to me. Even when I probably didn’t deserve it.
My doting parents and strict upbringing ensured that I was firmly on the straight-and-narrow path, and honestly, I did what was expected of me and never deviated. At the time, I’d thought it was the right thing to do, but now I was having major regrets. I didn’t want to play by anyone else’s rules anymore. I wanted to live my life my way. And that meant having the hot tryst I’d never been brave enough to pursue. I was almost giddy at the thought.