Played By Riggs

8

At 6am I received a text from an unknown number that read: I've planned our day. Be ready at 9am. Keith is driving us. 

It wasn't a hard challenge, or yet even a challenge to figure out who it was, because the tone belonged to the man who had captured all of my dreams last night. No matter how many times I woke, took a trip to the kitchen to retrieve myself a glass of water in hope of cleansing my mind, he always re-entered when my head hit the pillow. It would have been easier to ignore them if they were simple dreams. Realistic dreams. Business dreams.

However, of course, due to the heavy cloud of embarrassment that swam above me as I dressed, the dreams of James Branson were not at all simple. They were heated, full of kisses and sex in places that, in my sober mind, I would have never pinned desirable. And, despite, I was entirely sober as Keith drove us along the motorway, and I couldn't seem to shift them from my head, and the lust that ached between my thighs to explore those places only grew.

"You haven't asked me where we are going. Are you alright?" James asked.

I turned my head to glance at him and saw he looked sincerely concerned. "Well, if I ask, will you tell me?"

His lips twitched to a boyish smile. "No."

"Exactly," I said.

"You will enjoy it, I promise. If I was going to take you to a hotel and ravish you, I would have done it already."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"I said, since we've already established the fact we're partners, you can trust me on this one. It will benefit our project."

Oh. Oh. Of course that's what he said. My mind was still down in the gutters, and I was sure that the only thing that would revive my sense was tequila shots or a big bottle of expensive wine. It always did the trick. But it was 20 minutes past 9, so that option was not available unless I wanted to be labelled an uncontrollable alcoholic. Which I didn't.

"How will it benefit our project?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"We're here now, so I guess you'll have to find out." He threw me a cheeky grin before he climbed out of the car and rushed to open my door.

"Really?" I scoffed.

"Really," he replied, serious. "Has a man ever opened a door for you?"

"We're still on this?"

"We never left it."

"Well, I did," I said, shutting the door behind me. I made my way towards the front of the car and Keith unwound the window. "Are you staying or coming back?"

"Coming back. Give me a text when you need me."

"I will. Have a good day, Keith," I told him.

He looked amused. "And you."

"What is it?" I asked. "You know what he's planned, don't you? Will you tell me?"

Stupid question.

"No."

I pursed my lips and let out a breathy sigh. "You need to stop teaming up with him, Keith."

He gave a croaky laugh and started the engine. "And you need to turn around, because you have a wonderful man behind you ready to get the day started."

He drove away before I could reply.

And so, I turned, and just like Keith said, saw James stood watching me with an eager grin on his lips and a bag in his hand.

"What's in there?" I asked as we walked up the stairs towards a tall, silver building. I had no idea where we were.

"A pair of swimming shorts for me, and both a swimming costume and a bikini for you," he said. "I figured if I only packed a bikini, you'd have my head. You know, since you figure a man can't sit in hot tub with a beautiful woman and keep his hands to himself."