Rosalie's Player – Excerpt

"We're not going to do it." Rosalie wiggled out of Holt's hold and slipped off the counter, taking a few steps back to create some distance as she fixed her bra and shirt. His scent lingered on her skin.

Hell! Why does he have to look so good?

"What's the game?" When he leaned against the counter, she could see his impressive excitement poking into the towel.

"There's no game." At least she wasn't the one playing any games.

"Bullshit. I feel it every time I touch you." He picked up his mug. "Why are you pulling back?"

"Because all you ever do is touch me. Can't you see how explosive we are? How fast things heat up?"

"That's not a problem for me. It tells me the sex is going to be amazing."

"Maybe I'm not looking for amazing sex."

"What?" He looked like he might choke on the air between them.

"Amazing sex is great." Until now sex had been mediocre for her. She hadn't had that many partners, and the few sexual encounters she had were usually with frat guys who'd had too much to drink. "But a relationship can't be about sex and nothing else."

"A relationship?" Confusion spread across his face faster than poison ivy covered the skin, but he looked just as uncomfortable as he would if he were suffering from the itchy condition.

"A foreign concept to you, I know. I read the tabloids." His reputation was the reason she warned herself to stay away from him. But she wasn't even in town forty-eight hours and she couldn't manage to keep her mind or her lips off him.

"Don't believe everything you read." He brought the mug to that kissable mouth again, took a long sip, and then continued. "My family is an easy target for those rags. My father's in the senate, and every time a president from the opposing party takes office, my old man publicly fights with him every chance he gets. My mother is an heir to one of the largest diamond manufacturers in the country. Their only son is the starting pitcher for the number one team in baseball. We sell papers."

"So all that stuff about you and those girls isn't true?"

"I didn't say that. I just said don't believe everything they print about me." He grinned, probably because he was impressed with some of the things printed about him. "If you change your mind about me and you, I promise you won't regret it."

"You're something, but I'm going to pass." She pulled the hair tie from her hair and redid her ponytail. "Unless you want to grab dinner or something and we could get to know one another. See if there can be more than sex between us."

"Like a date?" More confusion.

"Another foreign concept?"

"We're wasting time with this conversation."

"I don't think we are. It's all very telling."

"How are we ever going to hit the sheets, princess, if you don't get these silly fairytale ideas out of your head?"

"That's not the problem."

"It isn't?" His towel dipped lower than before, exposing more of that complex tattoo of his. How she ached to see the whole thing.

"The question should be how are we ever going to hit the sheets if you don't start believing in fairytales?"