“Why are
you so nervous?” I ask Jordan. We’re sitting in Smith’s bar. The table is
elaborately set for a nice dinner, our glasses are full of expensive alcohol,
and our cocks are happy. Why does he look like shit is about to hit the fan?
“She had a good time,” I say, sipping my brandy.
“Yeah,”
Jordan says. His eyes are glued to the elevator doors, just waiting for her to
come downstairs. “But it was sneaky, ya know?”
“What was
sneaky about it?”
He shoots
me a look that says, Come on.
“She gave
in, Jordan. We didn’t make her do anything.”
“Right.” He
sighs. “But you’re what, just pretending we didn’t have that conversation this
morning? You know, the one where you said, ‘I’m gonna fuck with her head so
bad, she’ll spin like The Exorcist?’”
“It was a
joke.” I laugh. “All we did was make her feel good tonight. She loved every
fucking minute of it. Even when I choked her with my cock. She couldn’t get
enough.”
“That’s
because she was drunk on your dick at the time, Bric. But that feeling is gonna
wear off and she’s gonna run the entire night through her head, and then—”
“Then she’s
gonna realize we know what the fuck we’re doing. That’s all.”
“No,” he
says. “She’s gonna realize you’re just playing with her emotions. Like you do
with every fucking woman you’ve ever been with.”
“So?”
“So then
she’s gonna up her game, Bric. And this is gonna turn into a mind-fuck
shit-fest. I like her,” he says. “Maybe more than like her, OK? I don’t want
her thinking I’m like you.”
“You are
like me,” I say, getting pissed off. Why the fuck is he sharing her with me if
he likes her so much?
But I don’t
ask that question.
Because I
like her too. Just not in the same way.
“See,”
Jordan says.
“See what?”
I ask
“That
fucking evil grin you’ve got on your face. I know you well enough, Bricman.
Well enough to see the Machiavellian wheels turning inside your head. Do not
play with her emotions.”
“Why?” I
ask, my temper rising. “Is she some kind of fragile flower?”
But then I
realize this intrigues me.
“Stop it,”
Jordan says. “She’s not a puzzle, OK?”
“Then why
are we even playing?”
He huffs
out some air. Runs his fingers through his still-wet hair. “Because she’s not…”
He trails off.
“She’s not
what?” I ask. What the fuck is wrong with him tonight?
“She’s not
my type.”
“OK,” I
say, not really understanding.
“I mean I’m
not really her type.”
“Hmm,” I
say. “Do you love her?”
“No,” he
says. “Definitely not. But I like her. I could see myself playing with her for
a long time. And if you fuck it up, that won’t happen. You, of all people,
understand how fucking hard it is to get a girl you can trust in this game. One
who just gets you, ya know? We get each other, Bric. I realize it’s only been a
few weeks, but we know each other. I just like her. And we have an
understanding. I get to boss her around and be a dick, but she knows I’m not a
dick, right? She knows I’ll show up the next day and treat her nice and give
her a gift. She knows I’m just playing. We’re playing.”
“It’s a
game. Same as this,” I say.
“Dude, come
on,” he says, almost fully exasperated now. “You are a sick motherfucker, OK?
You know this, right?”
“Then why
am I even here?”
“Because
we’re good together, ya know. Not great. Yet,” he adds. “Not what you had with
Smith and Quin, obviously. But we understand each other. We work well as a
team. She liked that up there.”
“So what’s
the problem?”
“The
problem is you’re in a weird place right now and I’m afraid you’re gonna take
it out on Nadia. Don’t do that, OK?” He stares at me. “Just be…”
“Just be
your back-up?” I ask, huffing out a laugh.
He shrugs.
But that’s it. That’s what he wants. Don’t overpower him. Don’t take her away
from him. Don’t make her rethink her strategy. Just help him keep her.
It takes me
a minute to decide if I’m angry or not.
I decide
I’m not. I don’t give two fucks about this Nadia girl. And my goal really was
to break her. So I shrug. “Fine,” I say. “You want a wingman. Fine. I’ll help
you out, Jordan. But when I need a favor, I’ll expect the same in return.”
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Author Bio
K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.
Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.
You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!
Website: www.authorkwebster.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP
Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…
J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she is not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her husband, son and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.
Life in a Rut, Love not Included is her Debut Novel. J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions of her new books and series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.
