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Playing for Keeps: Chapter 13

Playing the Game - Elise

Everyone’s here tonight. Owen, the entire team, Coach Bryant, several players I don’t recognize out of their gear, Becca, me, and most distracting of all—Justin.

He’s dressed in a finely tailored black tuxedo, crisp white shirt and enough sex appeal to thaw an entire ice rink in three seconds flat.

We’d ridden together in a limo over to the event. I sat between Becca and Owen, but with Justin seated across from us in the dimly lit interior, my mind had immediately scrambled in sixteen different directions and my heart beat so hard I was scared everyone in the limo could hear it. It had taken some serious level of Jedi strength to force myself to not stare at him the entire ride, and based on the way his eyes smoldered, he appreciated my dress.

Once inside the huge ballroom, we made the rounds, mingling and exchanging hellos. I quickly had two glasses of champagne and then accepted Justin’s offer to dance.

I’ve never danced with him before, but the seven-piece jazz band is inspiring, and he’s a much better dancer than I would have imagined. Maybe playing hockey all those years has made him light on his feet, who knows.

He places his hands innocently against my waist while I rest mine against the lapels of his jacket. It’s been ten days since we made out and there’s an urgent sexual attraction buzzing between us, but we’re supposed to be acting like we’re just friends, so dancing is as far as it’s going to get.

There’s a faint dark bruise beneath his left eye, and I have the strangest impulse to kiss him there. My lips twitch with that secret knowledge.

“What is it?” he asks, amused by me.

I shake my head. He’s way too perceptive. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Tell me.” His voice is steady, and sure when I feel anything but.

“I just had this strange reaction—I wanted to kiss your black eye and make it feel better.”

His gaze locks onto mine, his blue eyes dark and filled with emotion as he watches me. “My eye feels fine, but I could think of a few other places that I’d like your kisses.”

I raise one eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

I meet his eyes. “How would I get you in trouble?”

He pulls me closer, under the guise of dancing. “Because when I suddenly get an erection while dancing with you, Owen is going to beat my ass. And I’ve been in more fights on the ice than I can remember, but I’ve never gotten into a brawl wearing a tuxedo.”

I can’t help the laugh that tumbles from my lips.

His eyebrows dart up. “You think that’s funny, huh?”

He presses his hips closer, and the laughter dies on my lips. In fact, all the breath leaves my lungs at once. Because holy shit. He wasn’t kidding about being hard. There’s a steely rod pressing behind his zipper, and all we’ve done is dance—at a safe enough distance to make any middle-school chaperone happy.

I grin up at him, feeling a little cheeky. “Hey there, big boy.”

He chuckles darkly, gaze hot. “Don’t.”

“Is that a hockey stick, or are you just happy to see me?” I tease.

“Elise,” he warns, voice now tight.

I’ve never felt quite so powerful, quite so desirable. He wants me. This sexy, god of a man wants me. The feeling is quickly becoming addictive.

His fingers slide along the exposed skin on my back, settling low and resting just above my ass. Just as I’m contemplating asking him how soon we can get out of here, my attention is captured by Owen approaching us. Justin moves his hand to a more innocent spot against the middle of my back and separates our bodies with a couple of extra inches. I hate it immediately.

But I smile at my brother. “Hey, Owen.”

“Hey.” He looks directly at Justin, eyes narrowing. “I’m going to get out of here. You’ll take care of Elise?”

“Of course,” Justin says without hesitation.

And just like that, I’m immediately picturing all the ways Justin Brady can take care of me tonight. Most of them are while I’m naked and horizontal, but Owen doesn’t need to know that.

Owen gives Justin a solemn look, nods once, and then returns to his date, placing his hand against the small of her back as he ushers her to the exit.

I’ve never seen the girl he’s with before, but I don’t bother asking her name, because I’m also certain I’ll never see her again. My brother the manwhore, ladies and gentlemen.

Justin and I finish our dance and go to the bar to get another drink.

Predictably, Asher and Teddy disappear halfway through the evening with their dates, because heaven forbid they go one night without getting some action.

Actually, Justin is the same way. Becca’s right about that. But this time I’m okay with it because for once we’re on the same page. This is just for pleasure, nothing serious.

Just after the coach finally leaves, Becca comes to find me.

“I’m going to go. Are you guys staying?” She looks meaningfully between me and Justin.

He pulls my hand into his lap. It’s a bold move, but almost everyone else is gone. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely. Goodnight, Becca.”

Is it just me, or is it kind of hot how he just dismissed her?

She gives me a playful wink. “Okay then. It’s sounds like you two kids have this under control.”

Justin leans close to my ear, biting his lip. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

My stomach fills with nerves. This is supposed to be a secret between us, I know that. But surely he doesn’t expect me to withhold this from my best friend? Plus, I don’t think Justin will be mad that I told Becca. First, Becca is trustworthy. Second, Justin has never gotten mad at me once in my entire life. And I was a very bratty, hormonal pre-teen. “I needed some advice. So, yeah. I talked to her.”

He nods, looking down at me. “It’s fine. I just want us to be careful. This is just for fun, right? No feelings. No one gets hurt. Two friends enjoying each other’s company.”

I nod quickly. “Exactly.”

“You ready to get out of here?”

I lick my lips. I fight the urge to say something cheesy like, I thought you’d never ask, and instead opt for a brief sure.

Actually, it comes out as more a squeak, but Justin doesn’t seem to mind.

He grins, pleased with me and leads the way to the exit.

Fucking finally. My ovaries do a happy dance as we climb into a car for the ride home. I’m not sure what happened to the limo—if it took others home or was just a one-way thing, but it doesn’t matter. Sitting in the back of a car alone with Justin feels incredibly intimate and I like the closeness.

It smells like leather and him, and oh my God, I can’t believe this is real.

His hand rests on my knee as the driver pulls the car into traffic. When I give the driver my address, he tells me the bridge is out and traffic is at a standstill.

“My place is five minutes away, let’s go there,” says Justin.

“What about Owen?” I ask.

He looks at me with a puzzled expression. “He won’t be home tonight. He never brings bunnies back to our place if he can help it.”

My shoulders tense for just a second. But then I realize he’s right. Owen’s quirk of not taking a hookup to his bed isn’t exactly a state secret. It’s weird, and gross, but Justin’s right.

“Plus, he’d never come in my room if my door was shut.”

I nod, still feeling a little unsure as Justin rattles off the address.

He glances at me. “If you’re really worried about it, my bedroom door has a lock.”

I take a deep breath, visibly relaxing. He’s right. It’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, we could say I was too drunk to go home and was just there to crash on the couch.

When the driver pulls to stop in front of Justin and Owen’s building, we climb out and head inside. And I find that Justin was right. It’s dark and quiet inside. But it still feels incredibly strange to be here at my brother’s apartment sneaking around. I make sure to take my purse and my heels and I immediately head into Justin’s bedroom. He follows me, smirking.

“You okay?”

I nod. “A little nervous, but yeah.”

“What can I do?” he asks, moving closer and placing his hands on my bare upper arms. His touch grounds me and I immediately feel more calm.

“Will you bring me a glass of water?”

“Of course.” He leaves and returns a second later with a tall glass of ice water.

I take a long drink and then place it on the table beside the bed with shaking hands while Justin closes the door to his room. He turns on the lamp in the corner, creating the perfect amount of ambient lighting and then turns on some soft music from his laptop. I notice the playlist is called Chill Vibes on Spotify. It’s melodic and calm. I make a mental note to check it out later. But then he comes back to where I’m standing and the moment changes. It’s filled with expectation and meaning.

Suddenly I realize I have no fucking idea what I’m doing here or how this is supposed to go, and I’m immediately self-conscious. The one and only time I’ve had sex was with him, and alcohol was involved. Now we both know what we’re here to do and I’m more nervous this time.

He looks so sexy standing in front of me in his tux. He lifts both my hands and places them against his waist. Then he puts his hands on my hips, gripping me lightly.

“You look a little anxious. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. I mean, I am nervous. But I’m okay.”

“Tell me what I can do to help.” His voice is low and sensual and chill bumps race along my exposed arms.

“I guess I’m just remembering the last time I was in this room with you.”

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 suddenly 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, lifting 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 never 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 admit 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 carefully 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 making 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 buttons.

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 muscles and abs are downright lickable, and those biceps 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 contemplate 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 complicate 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 demanding 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 inside 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. Planting his mouth on my inner thigh, he leaves wet, sucking kisses as he moves lower, until he’s nuzzling 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.


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