
When Clara Scott signs up for the Playerโs Game, she does it only for the money. As a struggling single mom, she needs the extra cash.
Colton Rossi is beautiful, but heโs also a notorious player. Women swoon all over him. Yet Claraโs not interested in the least in a Casanova like him, nor does she have time in her life for romance.
She knows she canโt get tangled up in his games. She needs to look out for herself, and her small son too. As intoxicating as he is, she vows to pull herself away from him, but when he makes her an offer she canโt refuse, sheโs drawn in further despite her best intentions.
Will her preconceptions be confirmed, or is there more to Colton Rossi than meets the eye?
WICKED PLAYER contains some coarse language and sexual scenes. For 18+ audiences.


He presses his mouth against my head. โIโm glad Iโve finally got you alone,โ he says. โIโve been dying to smell your hair all night. It always smells so nice.โ
I close my eyes, inhaling his scent too. โYou smell nice tooโฆ manly.โ
He laughs into my hair, and pulls me in closer. Heโs barely touched me, and Iโm already so turned on, I fear I might explode. I donโt know if itโs the drugs, or the fact that I havenโt been laid in years, or maybe itโs justโฆ him.
He presses a finger under my chin, and lifts my face to his. โYou are so pretty.โ
I love his words. I donโt know if he says them often, if they mean anything at all. But I love them anyway. I do feel pretty in his arms. Iโm desperate for his kiss, but he teases, almost as if he knows how much I want it. This is a man who loves to play, and Iโm his chosen toy tonight.
His lips travel softly across my mouth, around my chin, down my neck, and back up again, his breath hot on my skin. I honestly donโt know how much more of this I can take.
He finally presses his hot mouth on mine. His lips are just as soft and delicious as I imagined in my fantasies. And he tastes of mint. And God, he knows how to kiss. Every stroke of his tongue, every soft bite of my lips reels me in deeper, arouses me more intensely. I lose myself in him, and I feel him lose himself in me.
He hikes up my thigh against his hips, and presses me against the wall of bottles. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and hike up my other leg against him, wanting to get closer to him, craving more. I grind against him, and when he jerks up the skirt of my dress, Iโm game for anything.
He pulls away, tearing his mouth from mine, and I ache. I want his kiss. He travels south as he kisses my shoulder, then bites the swell of my breast. God, I want him. Now. He kneels to the floor, and his hands travel upward.
Oh noโฆ the Spanx!
Just then, the cellar door swings wide open and Victoria stands there, wide-eyed.
Oh, shit.




















