Scoring With the Wrong Twin
by Naima Simone
Series: WAGS, #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Release Date: January 15, 2018
Shy, awkward Sophia Cruz has a hard time telling her vivacious identical twin “no.” But when her sister begs her to swap places for a modeling shoot, she caves … again. Then Zephirin Black walks onto the set. The brooding, aloof, and gorgeous tight end for the Washington Warriors. But she can keep it professional… She has to. Because the adorkable Cruz twin has no luck with guys once they compare her to her sister.
After a bad break-up, Zeph hasn’t been big on second chances—and even less with trust. But he finds himself giving please-call-me-by-my-middle-name-Sophia both. The woman he’d dismissed as a spoiled cover model is different from the first time he met her. Quirkier. Funnier. Definitely sexier. What started as one night turns into another…and another…and another…
Still, Sophia can’t go on keeping her secret from him. But telling Zeph the truth will mean losing him for good.
“I’m not having sex with you again,” Sophia stated, panic—if Zephirin wasn’t mistaken—edging her voice. Though he couldn’t help but notice that her gaze skimmed down his body, the arousal darkening her eyes unmistakable.
“Who said anything about sex?” he asked, even as his mind and dick seemed to throb in protest. “Where’s your mind at, Sophia?”
The alarm evaporated from her expression, replaced by a scowl. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed to one night.”
He shrugged. “We agreed to one night of sex. I’m not here for that. I want to invite you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” she repeated, skepticism soaking her tone like a wet, heavy blanket.
Her suspicion didn’t disappear. Smart woman. Because he—who despised lying—was doing it through his teeth. All he could think about was having her under him again. Hunger clawed at his gut like a caged beast demanding to be fed.
“Yes. Have you eaten?” Not exactly the kind of craving he wanted to satisfy, but maybe she would lower her guard if he played nice.
“No,” she grudgingly admitted. She shook her head. “This is a bad idea. Just…bad,” she said in a low voice.
“Why?” He moved even closer, this time surrendering to the need to just touch. Pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head back as he shifted into her personal space. “What are you afraid of, baby?”
“That,” she whispered. Her lids lowered, hiding her eyes from him, and he almost demanded she open them. “Zephirin, I…” She exhaled a shaky breath and stepped back, dislodging his hand from her face. Pivoting, she crossed the living area and halted in front of an arched window. “I’m so not who you think I am,” she murmured, voice so low he barely caught her words.
“Then let me find out,” he said, staring at the rigid line of her spine. “Introduce me to Sophia. Introduce her to me.”
“And if you don’t like her?”
“I will, if you give me the chance. Trust me with her, and I won’t reject her.”
A sense of urgency vibrated under his skin like a forewarning that if he didn’t convince her now, he would lose the opportunity to discover all the hidden passion in this woman. Unable to remain where he stood, he traced her steps and didn’t stop until his palms flattened against the wall above her head, and his chest was pressed to her back. She stiffened but didn’t move away. He lowered his head, his mouth hovering next to her ear.
He swallowed the growl that rolled up his chest and into his throat. “Dinner. That’s it.”
She turned, facing him. He could easily read the indecision in the gaze that met his. “That’s it?”
“Yes,” he said. The urge to touch her surged within him, brutal and demanding. He surrendered to the need and brushed the full curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. But that was all he allowed himself. He shifted back a small step. “Sophia, you’re focused on your career, and so am I. Everything else takes a back seat to it. I’ve let relationships…” Fuck me up. “…distract me before, and I’m not willing to risk my career like that again. I can’t offer anyone a long-term commitment. I want to be as upfront with you as you were with me last night.”
She studied him for several long, quiet seconds. “And you don’t want to risk getting into a relationship with someone who could lie to you…again.”
He didn’t reply to her amazingly accurate assumption. But from the understanding that seemed to shadow her eyes, he didn’t need to.
Another moment passed. Then another. But finally… “Okay. Dinner.”
“Who said anything about sex?” he asked, even as his mind and dick seemed to throb in protest. “Where’s your mind at, Sophia?”
The alarm evaporated from her expression, replaced by a scowl. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed to one night.”
He shrugged. “We agreed to one night of sex. I’m not here for that. I want to invite you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” she repeated, skepticism soaking her tone like a wet, heavy blanket.
Her suspicion didn’t disappear. Smart woman. Because he—who despised lying—was doing it through his teeth. All he could think about was having her under him again. Hunger clawed at his gut like a caged beast demanding to be fed.
“Yes. Have you eaten?” Not exactly the kind of craving he wanted to satisfy, but maybe she would lower her guard if he played nice.
“No,” she grudgingly admitted. She shook her head. “This is a bad idea. Just…bad,” she said in a low voice.
“Why?” He moved even closer, this time surrendering to the need to just touch. Pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head back as he shifted into her personal space. “What are you afraid of, baby?”
“That,” she whispered. Her lids lowered, hiding her eyes from him, and he almost demanded she open them. “Zephirin, I…” She exhaled a shaky breath and stepped back, dislodging his hand from her face. Pivoting, she crossed the living area and halted in front of an arched window. “I’m so not who you think I am,” she murmured, voice so low he barely caught her words.
“Then let me find out,” he said, staring at the rigid line of her spine. “Introduce me to Sophia. Introduce her to me.”
“And if you don’t like her?”
“I will, if you give me the chance. Trust me with her, and I won’t reject her.”
A sense of urgency vibrated under his skin like a forewarning that if he didn’t convince her now, he would lose the opportunity to discover all the hidden passion in this woman. Unable to remain where he stood, he traced her steps and didn’t stop until his palms flattened against the wall above her head, and his chest was pressed to her back. She stiffened but didn’t move away. He lowered his head, his mouth hovering next to her ear.
He swallowed the growl that rolled up his chest and into his throat. “Dinner. That’s it.”
She turned, facing him. He could easily read the indecision in the gaze that met his. “That’s it?”
“Yes,” he said. The urge to touch her surged within him, brutal and demanding. He surrendered to the need and brushed the full curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. But that was all he allowed himself. He shifted back a small step. “Sophia, you’re focused on your career, and so am I. Everything else takes a back seat to it. I’ve let relationships…” Fuck me up. “…distract me before, and I’m not willing to risk my career like that again. I can’t offer anyone a long-term commitment. I want to be as upfront with you as you were with me last night.”
She studied him for several long, quiet seconds. “And you don’t want to risk getting into a relationship with someone who could lie to you…again.”
He didn’t reply to her amazingly accurate assumption. But from the understanding that seemed to shadow her eyes, he didn’t need to.
Another moment passed. Then another. But finally… “Okay. Dinner.”
USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey, Sandra Brown and Linda Howard many years ago. Well not that many. She is only eighteen…ish. Though her first attempt at a romance novel starring Ralph Tresvant from New Edition never saw the light of day, her love of romance, reading and writing has endured. Published since 2009, she spends her days—and nights— writing sizzling romances with a touch of humor and snark.
She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bulletproof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.
Email: nsimonebooks@aol.com
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