Fair Play (3 page)

“Do you want me?” I say as I bat my long lashes at him.

I can see him swallow hard and I know I’ve got him where I want him. If I give him
everything
he wants, maybe I can convince him to do what I want. It’s worth a shot and I already know I’ll have a lot of fun in the process.

“Baby, I’ve wanted you since Spring Break,” he admits.

And for the second time since we’ve been standing next to my car, I’m floored by something Evan says. Spring Break was two months ago. He couldn’t possibly have been thinking about me since then. Could he? Surely, he’s had a lot of
diversions
since then.
      “Come back to my hotel room with me,” I suggest.

“I thought maybe we’d wait until after dinner. My parents want to get drinks before dinner and we have early reservations.”

I sigh and give him a little pout.

“Fine,” he concedes. “How about I give you a little taste so you have something to look forward to?”

I nod slowly and deliberately and the desire in his eyes catches fire. He pushes me against my car and closes the distance between us. His erection is even harder than before and I let out a stifled moan as he pushes it against my body.

As he leans his head in and nips at my earlobe, waves of heat surge through my body. Then Evan presses his lips on mine and assaults my mouth with his skilled tongue.

The best thing about Evan’s vast experience with women is that he’s developed tremendous seduction skills. I can feel the desire building between my legs as Evan devours me with his lips and tongue.

When it’s almost too much to bear, I stop to take a breath and Evan leans close to my ear and whispers, “Baby, we’re so good together. We’re like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.”

I’m in such as state of pure lust the words almost don’t register. Did he just hint that the two of us should be together?

I push Evan away from me. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He looks confused, like I just slapped him. “It means I want to be with you.”

I eye him suspiciously. “We’re just talking about sex, right?
Nothing else.”

“Yeah, that’s right,
Keira. We’re just talking about sex. That’s all I want from you. Just to get laid.” There’s anger and bitterness in his voice that confuses me.

“As long as we’re clear about that.”

“Very,” he snaps.

I try to
fluff my hair and straighten my dress in the back where it was pressed against the car.

When I look back at Evan, he’s staring at me and a dark e
xpression has overtaken his face. “Don’t you ever want more, Keira?”

“More? What do you mean?”

“More than just sex?”

I look at him like he’s completely dense. I want to ask him if he’s heard a word I said. “Of course I want more. That’s why my new mission is to break up Aaron and Rainy. So I can finally be with Aaron. He and I belong together. We always have and always will.”

He actually lets out a bitter laugh. “You can keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart, but that isn’t going to make it true.”

I cross my arms across my chest in defiance. “We’ll just see about that.”

“You know the world doesn’t revolve around Aaron Donovan.”

“Maybe mine does.”

“Well maybe it shouldn’t.”

We both glare at each other and the heat between us is so
powerful, I feel like I could melt. My heart is racing and my mind is spinning out of control. I’m not sure whether I’m mad as hell or completely turned on.

Evan Warner is one of the most totally frustrating, complet
ely confusing and incredibly sexy men on the planet. I’m not sure if I should slap his face or kiss him.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Evan states. “Don’t change.”

“What if I want to wear something else?” I taunt.

He shakes his head. “This is my graduation party. I make the rules. I want that dress on you and I want to take it off of you later. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I say and give him a mock military salute.

He eyes me again and I wish I knew what was going through that brain of his. He looks like he might say something more but he shakes his head instead. “One hour,” he reminds me before he turns to walk towards his car.

Once he’s out of my line of vision I take a long awaited deep breath. My mind is still reeling as I try to replay everything that just happened.

Aaron Donovan, the boy I’ve wanted since I was twelve years old, is engaged to someone else.

And it seems like Evan, who has been my fuck buddy since I was sixteen, is now hinting about wanting something more between us. Evan the Conqueror wants more? It doesn’t seem possible. Evan doesn’t do
more
with anyone. Evan is a screw-and-bolt kind of guy. That’s what I like about him. There are never any strings or any attachments.

My world seems to have turned completely upside down and I’m trying my best to remain upright.

Two

In jealousy there is more of self-love than love.

Francois de la Rochefoucauld

When I get back to my hotel, I decide to have at drink in the bar. Maybe it will calm my nerves and it never hurts to get the party started a bit early.

It’s still early so the dark lounge is empty except for
two middle-aged business men, who stare up at me from the other end of the bar as I enter. I sit opposite the two businessmen, whose eyes are now glued on me. In a few seconds, the bartender will have to give them dinner napkins to catch all the drool that’s running down their chins.

Not that I have anything against older men. I just have a thing against guys, who aren’t wealthy and well-connected. And these guys scream of middle-management. From their
Hagger suits to their Supercuts haircuts. I bet they’re even wearing Old Spice cologne.

I order a Maker’s Mark neat and the bartender looks a little surprised.

“Haven’t you ever served a girl a whiskey before?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not someone who looks like you.”

“Really, and just what do I look like?” I probe.

He crosses his ample arms over his broad chest and looks me up and down. “You look like that new Princess they’ve got in England. What’s her name?”

“Are you talking about Kate Middleton?”

He snaps then points at me. “That’s the one. You look just like her. And you kind of have that princess vibe.
Like you’re too good to even be sitting here.”

I’m not sure if he’s given
me a compliment or a slam, maybe a little of both. But I’m not in the mood to analyze it. “Just give me the drink.”

He nods, pours the Maker’s Mark then places it on the bar in front of me.

I take a sip of the whiskey and it burns my throat a little on the way down. But it’s strong and I immediately feel the effects.

When I glance down at the end of the bar, the business men are both still eyeing me as they engage in what seems to be small talk. I take another sip of my drink and this time it feels smooth going down my throat. I’m definitely starting to feel comfortably numb.

“So,” the bartender says. “Here alone?”

“Not for long,” I reply as I glance at my
Parmigiani watch. “Evan should be here soon.”

“Your husband?” the bartender asks although I’m not sure why he cares. Maybe he’s bored since the place is dead.

“Not that it’s any of your business but I’m not married.”

He nods as if he’s not surprised by my response. “I was right. You are a princess.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I’m now a little angry with the guy because that was clearly not meant to be a compliment.

He leans in close to me and stares into my eyes. He’s a good looking guy in a brutish sort of way. He looks like he fights in his spare time. Or maybe he’s a bartender to support his boxing.

His big blue eyes blaze into me, as if he’s looking right through me. It’s unsettling but also has my curiosity piqued. And I have to admit, it’s pretty hot.

“It means that no guy is ever going to be good enough for you.”

I laugh. “That’s not true.” He’s obviously never seen Aaron Donovan.

His eyes are now filled with amusement as he continues to size me up. “And just how long have you been stringing poor Evan along?”

“You don’t know anything about me and Evan,” I snap back.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” he says playfully and it pisses me off that he’s now grinning.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“I can be,” he says. “I’m just having a little fun with you.”

“Evan’s not my boyfriend,” I say and I’m not even sure why.

“Does he know that?” The bartender’s expression is now a bit more serious and I don’t like it.

“I don’t think he has any illusions that we’re a couple if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Is Evan a massive guy with short blond hair?” the bartender asks. His attention is now focused
on the entrance of the bar, which is behind me.

“Yeah, why?”

The bartender shakes his head. “Princess, you’re in trouble. That guy just looked at you like he owns you and he gave me a look like he wanted to kill me for talking to you. You may not know it yet but that guy thinks you’re his.”

Before I can say anything else, the bartender walks to the other end of the bar, where the businessmen are getting ready to pay their tab.

I can feel Evan come up behind me. His energy is unmistakable and I can smell his signature cologne. He leans in close and whispers in my ear. “I thought I might find you here.”

I down the last sip of my drink.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

I nod.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a twenty. “How much was the drink?”

I shrug.

He pulls out another twenty and throws the two bills on the bar. “That should cover it. Come on.”

Evan grabs my elbow to help me down from the barstool as the bartender grabs the twenties from the bar. “The drink was only eight bucks,” he says.
“Happy Hour special.”

Evan glares at the guy. “Keep the change.”

The bartender gives me another playful look that says he was totally right about Evan. Evan clearly wants the bartender to think I’m his.

I promised I would be Evan’s for tonight. The only problem is that I think he wants more.
Much more.

But I want Aaron.

***

Dinner with Evan and his parents is about as interesting as watching grass grow. But I smile and nod and pretend I’m captivated by everything Mr. and Mrs. Warner have to say.

Evan’s parents aren’t quite as wealthy as Aaron’s but they’re always on the Forbes List of Wealthiest Americans. They’re not in the Top Five like Aaron’s parents always are but they’re in the Top 50. Evan’s parents are very well connected, though, and many of his family members have served in politics. And I’m talking serious
politics, several senators, more than several congressmen and even a Secretary of State. They haven’t had a President yet but I’m convinced they think Evan will fit the bill someday.

As Evan’s mom drones on about her charity work for Autism Awareness, I glance around the hip and chic restaurant. It’s the type of place that makes up-and-comers feel like celebrities when they can get a table. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron and Rainy walking toward a table near the back followed by Aaron’s parents and Aaron’s two older brothers. I’m surprised to see Andrew and Allan because they weren’t at the graduation cer
emony but Aaron’s mom did say they had a reservation for six.

Aaron and Rainy are holding hands and it occurs to me that they are
always
holding hands. Whenever I see them, their hands are entwined. It’s like their hands are permanently attached. I don’t know whether to be jealous or gag.

It kind of makes my hand itch to think about someone co
nstantly holding it. I don’t like the idea of being attached to someone like that, even beautiful Aaron Donovan.

I must have been staring at Aaron a little too long because I can feel someone kick my leg under the table.
When I look over at Evan, he’s glaring at me. He furrows his brows and I can see he’s getting pissed.

“Ouch,” I mouth and Evan gives me a wicked little grin.

He leans close to my ear and whispers, “You’re mine tonight. Don’t forget that.”

“How could I possibly forget?” I whisper back.

“Mine,” he repeats.

“For tonight,” I remind him.

“And what do you think about the rise in autism diagnoses over the last several years,” Evan’s mom asks as she leans in my direction.

“I haven’t really given it much thought,” I admit.
Nor do I ever want to
.

Evan’s mom sighs
. When she finally clues in that I don’t give a rat’s ass about her charity, she decides to change the subject.    

“We’re so proud of Evan,” his mother is now gushing at him. “Not only did he graduate with honors but he’s been offered a top spot at Newman and Neilson.”

“And I just read an article in the
Wall Street Journal
that declared Newman and Neilson as the top accounting firm in the country,” Evan’s dad adds. “They’ve now surpassed Deloitte & Touche.”

When I sneak a glance at Evan, his face is neutral and I can’t tell if he’s bored with the conversation or completely over his parents or both.

I never thought of Evan as an accountant. He’s so outgoing and boisterous. Not the type of guy you’d ever imagine sitting in an office crunching numbers. But he studied forensic accounting, which he says is a lot more interesting because it’s more like being a detective than anything else.
Whatever
. If it has anything to do with numbers and it’s not the price of something to buy, I don’t care.

As Evan’s parents drone on about the
advantages of being an accountant and how much it will benefit Evan when he decides to run for Congress, I can feel Evan place his hand on my thigh. I glance over at him and he gives me an innocent look but his actions are anything but innocent.

His fingers make their way up my thigh, lightly caressing me as they travel toward the spot between my
legs that is beginning to grow wet with anticipation. The words coming out of Evan’s parents’ mouths become increasingly incoherent as Evan continues to caress me under the table. I almost gasp when he hikes up my skirt, moves his hand even higher and begins to caress me over my thin lace underwear.  

I clear my throat to try and get him to stop but he doesn’t even slow down. He’s intent on fingering me in front of his parents in the middle of the restaurant, only the tablecloth
hides the naughtiness of his hand between my legs. I try putting my hand on his to stop him but it’s fruitless. When I look at him, he has a look of sheer determination in his eyes.

As he uses his fingers to skillfully play between my legs, I can feel myself getting hot and bothered. Then Evan leans in and whispers, “You’re starting to blush.”

“We’ll you’re starting to turn me on,” I whisper back.

“I aim to please,” he replies.

“And I’m expecting you to please me a lot when we get back to your place.”

When the waitress returns with dessert menus, Evan finally removes his hand from
between my legs and eases it back on top of the table without attracting any attention.

“We have a lovely
crème brûlée and a divine raspberry chocolate mousse,” the waitress suggests.

“The
crème brûlée sounds delicious,” Evan’s mother says. “I think I’ll try that.”

“An extra fork,” Evan’s dad says as he
pats his belly. When we were young, I remember Evan’s dad being quite a looker with a toned and tanned body. But now in his 60s, he’s got a little paunch, no doubt from a combination of lack of exercise and overeating.

“Would you and
Keira like to share a dessert?” Evan’s mom asks hopefully.

Evan’s mom has been acting strange towards me eve
r since Evan mentioned that Aaron got engaged. It’s as if she believes now that Aaron is taken, I’ll be free to marry her son.
As if that will ever happen
. Evan is my fuck buddy and that’s all he’ll ever be.

“We’ll take a raspberry chocolate mousse,” Evan says.
“One fork.”

I raise an eyebrow and give Evan a look that says:
you’re not going to share
?

He just grins at me playfully. I’ve never actually seen Evan so carefree. I want to attribute it solely to graduating and moving on to the next phase in life but I know there’s more to it than that. He seems genuinely happy.

When the waitress brings our desserts, Evan’s mom and dad dig into their crème brûlée but Evan just stares at the raspberry chocolate mousse.

“Looks delicious, doesn’t it?” he taunts as he waves the single fork over the dessert.

“It looks okay,” I reply trying to sound blasé but secretly wanting to devour every delectable looking morsel of it. I’m not much of an eater but when it comes to anything with chocolate, I can’t resist.

I can feel my mouth start to water as Evan dips his fork into the mousse and removes the first bite. He looks at me for a moment as he holds the piece up between us.

“Open your mouth,” he commands. I do as I’m told which may be the first time ever. I’m usually the one telling other people what to do, not vice versa.

Evan continues to look into my eyes as he moves the fork towards my lips. As he places the rich delicious chocolate into my mouth, our eyes lock and his look
is so hungry and so wanting, that the combination of sensory stimulation, both visual and taste buds,
sends a rush of heat and desire through my entire body and I’m nearly undone.

“Good?” Evan asks as he watches me swallow the morsel in my mouth.