How To Pleasure A Playboy

By: Talia Hunter


Try me.

Yes! Gotcha. Grinning, she pumped her fist.

Spend a week in #TheBaxter and I’ll cancel the protest.

His response came back even quicker.

If I spend a week in #TheBaxter you cancel the protest and move out.

She had him now. And the stakes would be winner takes all.

Agreed. And if u step one foot outside during that week, I win. You repair #TheBaxter & tenants stay.

An ego like his, he’d assume it would be easy. But he had no idea how run down this place had become, or how determined she was. Staring at her phone, she willed him to respond. The way it was now, he could still laugh it off and back out. But if he accepted her terms, he’d be committed.

A moment later, her phone rang. This time it was a cell phone number, not a land line, and when she answered, it wasn’t his secretary asking her to hold for Bronson Reyne. The pampered playboy had deigned to press the buttons and make the call himself.

“Lacey?” His deep voice made her shiver, remembering the way his eyes had lingered over her body when she’d danced. “I’m going to assume you’re serious about this. So what’s the catch?”

“No catch, just a simple wager. For seven days, you can’t leave the Baxter or you lose.”

He was silent for a moment. “You can’t lock me out, or have me physically removed. To lose, I have to leave willingly.”

“Fair enough.”

“When I win, you’ll go quietly?”

“Like a mouse.” She gritted her teeth, hating to put so much on the line, but needing him to agree.

“Then we have a deal. But I’ll need a little time to reschedule everything I had arranged.”

“Cancel all your dates?” She surprised herself with how much acid was in her tone. But at his nightclub, he’d practically ignored the two women he’d arrived with. He’d left them sitting at their table like excess baggage while he danced with her. What kind of man treated people like that?

“I’ll have to change my plans to be at my club for that week. But if we keep the bet high-profile, the publicity will make up for it.”

“And with it so public, you’ll have to hold up your end of the bargain when you lose.”

“I never lose. Expect me on Wednesday. I’ll be at the Baxter in time for dinner.”

His arrogance took her breath away. He expected her to cook for him, like she were one of his servants?

“Then the bet will run from this Wednesday to the next. Make sure you tweet your agreement,” she said before he could hang up. “Let’s get it all on record.”

“With pleasure.” He disconnected the call.

And sure enough, a minute later, a tweet came through from him.

Deal made. #TheBaxter here I come. After 7 days, Lacey will be gone for good. #GoodbyeBaxter

Lacey tweeted back.

#PamperedPlayboy has no idea what he’s signed up for. Sucker! Let #TheBaxterGames begin.

“May the odds be ever in my favor,” she muttered, putting her phone down. Now that was settled, she needed to decide which apartment he’d stay in. The worst was probably 204, the one underneath her. Its tenants had moved out ages ago and when it rained, water ran down from her old bedroom into—

An alert went off on her phone. Another tweet.

I’m bringing my silk sheets, so you’re in for a treat. But I’ll only let you share them if you don’t snore. #TheBaxter

Wait, what? He wasn’t staying at her place. And trust him to make the whole thing sound sleazy.

Her phone rang and Ally’s name flashed up. Her business partner had obviously been glued to Twitter.

“He’s staying in your room?” asked Ally, when Lacey answered. “Was that part of your plan?”

“Hell, no. I was going to put him in the apartment downstairs.” Lacey shook her head. “I should have made that clear before making the bet.” If only she hadn’t let her enthusiasm get the better of her. What else hadn’t she thought about?

“If he thinks he’s staying in your place, why don’t you make him sleep in your old bedroom? No offense, but it’s horrible in there. And that way you could keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t cheat.”

Lacey considered it. “That room leaks so badly, I had to move all the furniture out. Every time it rains, it practically floods.”

“Smells bad, too. The other night I stuck my head in for a look and almost gagged.”

Lacey snapped her fingers. “I saw an old mattress on the side of the road. Someone must have dumped it, and it was soaked. What if I put it on the floor in there for him?”

“Oh, that’s evil. I love it.” Ally laughed. “Can you mess up the whole house so his days are as bad as his nights?”

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