I groaned.
“Maybe this could be something real. No one has to know,” she encouraged. My willpower was snapping like fire to a string.
“I won’t be the one to ruin your reputation with the team,” I said, dropping my head in defeat. “Because I care about you, Catherine. I can’t be the one to ruin everything you’ve worked for. I’m at the end of my career, but you’re just starting out.”
“It’s good one of us has self-control,” she countered.
“Barely,” I chortled. I stood and took her plate.
“Let me help you.” Her hand landed on mine, and that chemistry, that fire inside me roared to life from her touch. I had never wanted anyone like I wanted her.
Our gazes locked for a millisecond. Then she looked at her hand on mine and pulled it back. “Maybe it’s the wrong time for us.”
“I don’t want to believe that’s true. Not with how fast my heart is racing now,” I confessed.
I moved to put the dishes in the sink. She followed me to the kitchen. “Thank you for the friendly dinner.” I laughed.
“There was nothing friendly about dinner. If you could only read my thoughts.”
She moaned. “You can’t say stuff like that and not expect me to react.”
“Do you play cards?” I asked. Cards were safe, and I didn’t want our night to end. I also needed to refocus because her moan hit me right in the dick.
She blinked. “Like strip poker?”
My cock twitched. Then I laughed because if I didn’t, I was going to picture it. Too late. “Don’t tempt me.”
Her smile went slow. “Would that tempt you?”
I braced both hands on the counter and looked at her. “Catherine.”
“What?” she asked with doe-green eyes and innocent seduction.
“Let’s just say my shower was extra long earlier because I had to deal with my situation over and over again.”
Her lips parted. Then her cheeks went pink. I liked watching her reaction to me a little too much.
“Same,” she said.
I stared at her.
“Same?” My voice came out rough.
She looked down at her hands, but the corner of her mouth lifted. “You heard me.”
I was going to die in my own kitchen of sexual frustration.
“Cards,” I said quickly.
She laughed. “Coward.”
“Survivor.”
I grabbed a deck from the drawer where Isla kept board games and brought it to the coffee table. “War.”
Catherine followed me to the living room and sat cross-legged on the rug like she belonged there.
“We’re playing War?” she asked.