Playing For Keeps

Playing the Game Part 2

Releasing his hold on me, he scrubs one hand through his hair, messing up the neat style, and hefts out a sigh. “Yeah, I kind of fucked that up, didn’t I?”

My mouth lifts in a half-grin. “A little bit.”

“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly looks unsure.

I nod.

“That night … were you a virgin?” His deep blue gaze is locked on mine, and my chest sud- denly feels tight.

I figured he’d been too drunk to notice. Hell, I wasn’t even sure he knew it was me in his bed. And yet, I’d wanted him anyway.

I lick my lower lip. “Yeah.”

His expression turns pained and his eyebrows push together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I realize my hands are still resting on his waist where he placed them. He touches my cheek, lift- ing my chin toward his so I’m forced to meet his eyes. But the sweet concern in them is more than I can take and I blink and look away.

“I’m not sure,” I say. And I’m really not. I nev- er found the right moment to press the pause button and say oh by the way, I’ve never done this before, but I always dreamed you’d be my first.

“I could have made it better for you. I could have been more careful.” He’s still touching my cheek, his fingers splayed along my jaw.

I look up and meet his eyes again. “We need a do-over,” I murmur as his mouth slowly descends

on mine.

He kisses me softly once before pulling back. “I think I could help with that.”

I smile up at him, and lift on my toes to press my lips to his once more. They’re soft and pliable and he smells so good.

I’m glad he doesn’t press the issue further. I’m really glad he doesn’t ask why I wanted to share my first time with him, because I’m afraid I’ll ad- mit the extent of my feelings, and since I’ve vowed to turn them off, it’s not a piece of information I can divulge. Those days are done and behind me, I just want to forget about it and have a hot fling with a hot man. I’ve assured Becca it’s possible, and I hate being wrong.

“You looked so sexy tonight. I didn’t get to tell you that before.” He releases his touch on my cheek and shrugs out of his jacket. He tosses it on the chair in the corner, and then he’s pulling at the silk bow tie to unknot it while his gaze stays glued to mine.

I finally reach up and run my thumb careful- ly along the faint bruise underneath his eye. His lips part, but he stays completely still, letting me explore. His stubble is rough against my palm as

my hand slides down his cheek. Then I draw him closer, urging his lips back to mine.

This seems to spark something in him and his kiss turns molten hot—his tongue seeking entrance and tangling with mine. I make a low, desperate sound in my throat, and suddenly Justin’s fingers are at the nape of my neck. He draws the zipper of my dress down my spine with a satisfying low hiss.

I don’t break our kiss to slide the dress off my shoulders, or even when it falls to the floor in a puddle around my bare feet.

And I’m still sucking on his tongue, still mak- ing needy sounds when his hands descend on my curves, caressing over my ribs down to my hips, until I feel his calloused palms gripping my ass— which he uses to haul me closer.

He lets out a soft grunt when my pelvis rubs against the impressive bulge in his pants, and a warm shudder pulses through me at the contact. His hands stay on my ass, kneading the flesh of my cheeks while my trembling fingers move to the front of his dress shirt to begin working on the but- tons.

He pulls the shirttails from his pants, and then shrugs it off, dropping it to the floor. A half-naked

man in front of me would be an exciting thing. A half-naked pro athlete ratchets everything up to a whole other level. His chiseled muscles and smooth, tanned skin are perfection. His pec mus- cles and abs are downright lickable, and those bi- ceps would have no problem supporting my weight while he fucked me. The nude-colored lace thong I’m wearing instantly grows damp at that thought.

His body is built for sin and whatever qualms I had about tonight vanish in an instant. I want this. I want him. I damn well deserve it.

I reach for his belt and begin tugging it free.

His lips break from mine and he gazes at me in wonder. One hand is still on my ass, and the other is now buried in the hair at the back of my neck. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice thick.

I realize this is it. He’s giving me a moment to consider if I want to back out. A second to contem- plate what a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement could mean if my brother ever found out. And I know he wouldn’t hold it against me if I chose to hit the brakes on this entire thing.

It’s sweet of him, but I shake my head. “I want this.” I pause, weighing my words, in an attempt to clear my head. I need to be the one in control

here—it has to be me calling the shots or this will never work. “As long as we both agree this stays casual—no feelings, no one gets hurt.”

Justin doesn’t say anything for a moment as he processes this, but I see an unmistakable flash of understanding behind his eyes. “You’re right. We can’t have anything ruin our friendship, or compli- cate things with your brother.”

“Exactly.” I nod. “The second one of us starts to develop real feelings, we have to communicate immediately, and then the fun stops.”

Owen is not just Justin’s best friend, but also his roommate, and a teammate, and they have a de- manding job and a schedule that can’t allow either of them to lose focus and fuck up their careers. It seems like we’re on the same page with this. It’s just a fling. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Okay,” he says. And then his lips are back on mine and he gives me a playful shove. I fall onto his bed, resting on my elbows as I watch him stand in front of me. He tugs the belt free and drops it onto the floor. And then he reaches one hand in- side his pants to adjust his stiff length and I almost groan.

He lowers himself to his knees on the side of

the bed, grabs onto my ankles, and pulls me until my butt is close to the edge of the mattress. Plant- ing his mouth on my inner thigh, he leaves wet, sucking kisses as he moves lower, until he’s nuz- zling me, softly biting me, right over the lace of my panties.

I let out a moan of frustration and thread my fingers into his dark, silky hair. Tonight could not be going any better, even if I’d scripted it. Eat your heart out, Becca.