The Final Book in the Football Fantasies Series.
Punished and benched after he paid a little needed retribution on a teammate, Marc Anders goes into self-exile at a Tahitian resort. He needed to get away from the media circus his life was about to become. But the ringleader of that circus, ex–lingerie model turned sports reporter, Sofia Figueroa, follows him trying to get her scoop.
Sofia nearly destroyed Marc's brother's career with a slanderous mistake, one she's apologized for repeatedly. Now she's on the hunt to write another piece on the Anders' clan, and Marc will do anything to stop her, even if it comes down to seducing her and making Sofia his mistress.
Cool and controlled, they don't call him The Iceman for nothing. Yet Sofia heats his blood and threatens to make him melt. Knowing he needs to hold on to the reins, his brand of control comes with cuffs and paddles, and he has more than one reason to punish his lover.
Can he hold on to his control and not let his own dark needs overshadow hers?
Warning: light bondage, spanking, flogging, and anal play
“Where do you want to begin?” she asked after turning on her recorder, her pen at the ready.
Marc leaned over and turned off her recorder. “We haven’t discussed price yet.”
What was he playing at? “What is your price, then?”
Marc drained his glass and leaned forward to deposit it on the coffee table. “I want a kiss for every answer. My choice of when and where the kiss occurs, and what type of kiss. And the questions are limited to this incident. Everything else is off limits.”
Kisses? He was toying with her. She closed her notebook and threw it into her bag along with her recorder before standing. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Anders.”
“Would kissing me be so terrible?”
She stopped midway to the door, not able to face him. Of course kissing him wouldn’t be terrible. Sofia had dreamed of doing it over and over again, but she wasn’t going to be forced into subjecting herself to his whims for the sake of a story. That wasn’t the kind of reporter she was.
“Well, would it?”
Sofia jumped. He had spoken right into her ear, sneaking up close without her realizing he’d even moved. She turned around to face him, wondering if he’d spot the lie or not. “I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Liar,” he said, a wicked smile on his lips. Her gaze was attracted to those lips, wondering what they’d feel like against her own. “You want me to kiss you even now.”
Sofia narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “I won’t kiss you to get a story.”
Marc stepped slightly closer, their bodies a hairsbreadth apart. She could feel the heat of him against her, warming her. His lips hovered inches from hers and looked so inviting.
“But you do want me to kiss you.”
It was a statement of fact, not a question. And he was right. “No, I don’t,” she declared, even as she felt herself tilting closer to him. Her lips parted, and she wet them nervously.
He leaned down slightly, his mouth closing in on hers. She released a slight sigh and closed her eyes, ready for him to kiss her senseless.
And she waited.
The kiss never came.
She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Marc was still close, but had backed off some. He watched her intently, observing her every emotion. Sofia felt as if he was reading her like a book.
“I always thought you were the type of woman to reach out and grab what she wanted,” he said lowly, his voice laden with innuendo.
“I am. I haven’t let anyone get in the way of something I wanted.”