Perfectly Broken by Prescott Lane

player’s suite.”
    Reed dropped his jaw. “Whose suite?”
    “I can’t say.” Peyton smiled. “My profession....”
    Reed shook his fork at her. “Your profession ?”
    “Yes, my profession,” she said, her smile widening, “has a sort of doctor-patient confidentiality.”
    “ Confidentiality ?” Reed laughed.
    “Let’s just say a certain MVP’s kids, a few high-ranking members of the organization, and a couple Pro Bowlers love my pies.”
    “Damn, well, we can use your connections. I want to sit in the owner’s suite, too.”
    Peyton winked at him. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    * * *
    As Reed cleared the table, Peyton stood at the bathroom mirror, clutching the sides of the sink with her hands, wondering what he had in store next. She couldn’t and didn’t trust him to take things slowly, and now she was in his loft — after dinner — with his bedroom mere steps away, and the couch even closer. She didn’t fully trust herself, either, her mind drifting to Quinn’s kit in her purse from the night before, and whether she’d possibly need it. She opened the bathroom door and peered out at the clean table, Reed sitting on the couch waiting for her. She twirled her locket, took a deep breath, and walked cautiously towards him.
    She sat down and after a moment of silence, told him that dinner was great, hoping a few words would calm her nerves. Reed simply smiled in return — knowing words weren’t required or useful at this point — then lifted her feet onto his lap. He took off her sandals and began to rub her feet. Peyton closed her eyes and leaned her head back on a pillow. Reed watched the way her chest rose and fell, her breasts pushing against her cashmere sweater, a small peaceful smile across her pink lips. She opened her eyes and caught him staring. Then he looked away, trying to control himself.
    Her peaceful smile faded away, all of a sudden fearing something was wrong. The foot rub was certainly nice — she couldn’t remember the last one she had — but she knew this wasn’t what Reed really wanted to be doing. She knew he wanted to pin her against his kitchen counter, like he did at lunch, and rubbing her feet was anything but that. He probably regretted saying he wanted to be exclusive. She bit her lip, concerned, and lifted her head off the pillow. “Maybe I should go.”
    “What?” His eyes darted to hers. “Why?”
    She put her feet on the floor and reached for her sandals. “We both have work tomorrow.”
    “But it’s early.”
    “I just thought maybe you were tired.”
    Reed looked at her, confused. “I’m not tired. I’m not a relationship guy, either, so....”
    “Right, so I’ll just go.” She reached for her sandals again, and Reed grabbed her elbow.
    “Let me finish, please,” he said. Peyton looked down at his hand, and he immediately released her. “What I was saying is I’m not used to relationships, so if I’m doing something wrong, I need you to tell me.”
    “Oh, OK.” She sat back down and twirled her locket. “I can do that.”
    “So what am I doing wrong that makes you want to leave?”
    “Nothing.”
    “What’s wrong then?”
    “Well,” Peyton said, her head falling into her hands, “you haven’t kissed me tonight.” She peeked out from between her fingers, as Reed burst into laughter.
    Then he sweetly took her hand. “I give you permission to kiss me whenever you want.”
    Peyton lunged across the couch, almost tackling him, like a starved woman hungry for the taste of his lips. She kissed him hard, pushing her body against his, then pulled away for a brief instant to take in his face with just a touch of stubble, his blue eyes letting her know she had nothing to worry about.
    “I was just trying to behave myself before. It’s hard for me to just kiss you. And I promised myself I would only kiss you,” he said, a dirty look in his eye, “unless you begged.”
    Peyton lowered her lips to his neck, her breath sending sparks