LaceysGame (4 page)

Then he watched as she went back to the other man’s side. Stopped,
rested a hand against his chest.

They spoke but he couldn’t hear a word they were saying over
the roaring in his ears. All he could see was her turning her back on him. Walking
away. Just as he’d turned his back on her a dozen times.

Give me all of you.

I can’t do that
,he thought again.

Lacey was leaving the room now. Walking away from him. For
good.

If he couldn’t find a way to take her, as he needed—as she
needed, and find a way to give himself, completely, he was going to lose her.

“Man, I think a drowning man would look a little less
terrified than you do right now.”

Half mad with the fear inside him, he turned around, ready
to pummel something. Someone.

But he didn’t find amusement on the man’s face.

He saw sympathy.

“She’s not fragile. Suddenly all sorts of lights are coming
on for me,” Lou drawled. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms
over his naked chest. “Trust me. She’s not fragile and she’s not into lace and
moonlight and roses. She’s like the raw and the rough. Nobody knows Lacey quite
the way I do…and there’s not much you can do that would freak her out.”

Brogan curled his lip. “You don’t know shit.”

Lou just smiled.

The sight of that smile only added to his misery.

“I’m supposed to be working the bar tonight.”

“I called in to get somebody to cover you,” Lou said,
shrugging as he packed up his equipment. He had spent about twenty minutes
debating the matter before he made a decision.

Lacey was miserable.

The moron who’d barged into his place was miserable.

The two of them had feelings for each other.

Now, if Lou had been in this position two years earlier, he
would have been almost delirious with delight… That was back when he’d still
been hoping he could convince Lacey to give him one of those long-term chances.
But she wasn’t into his bullshit for the long term. She liked him for fun and
she loved him as a friend, and they did one hell of a job twisting up the
sheets, but they weren’t a matched pair and they both knew it.

He’d figured it out just a little later than she did…right
about the time he’d seen a woman he wanted the way Lacey wanted this guy of
hers. Of course, he had no chance in hell of getting her, but that was beside
the point.

What mattered was that his best friend was lonely and sad,
all because the guy she wanted didn’t see her as clearly as he thought he did.

So Lou was going to move things along.

Lacey might get pissed at him but he was willing to take
that chance.

The idiot might decide to rearrange his face…and he was also
willing to take that chance, because he wouldn’t mind taking a few swings at
Brogan Grainger. He deserved it for making Lacey so miserable.

All in all, it wasn’t going to be a boring day.

People were going to get pissed. And for a little while at
least, he and Lacey were going to play.

Once he got things set up. He just had to get the pieces
into place, and the players…

It was one thing that had always driven Lacey nuts. He was a
born manipulator and the main reason why she couldn’t see herself making it a
long-term thing with him. He understood that. Respected it. But this one time,
if it made somebody open their eyes, maybe, just maybe, she’d be okay with it.

After the fact.

Lacey knew he was up to something but just then, she was too
miserable to care.

Knowing Lou as well as she did, it was likely something to
distract and she needed all the distraction she could get.

As he continued to fiddle with his camera equipment, she
sighed. “What do I need to wear?” She hated doing photo shoots—well, when
she
was the model. Lou was the only one she’d do it for too. “What kind of look do
you want or is there something already picked out?”

He shot her a wide, wicked grin. “Nah, you can pick out your
own clothes. This is just for fun.”

“For fun.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay. What are you in the
mood for?”

“The sluttiest you can manage.”

Lacey made a face. “You know, a lot of women would get
insulted at that. What makes you think I’ve got slut clothes with me?”

“Do you?”

Lacey sighed. “I can probably figure out something.”

The gleam in his eyes didn’t quite make her smile. But it
almost did. That almost smile had faded by the time she was halfway down the
hall, though. A photo shoot with him would be grueling enough that it would
keep her mind occupied. A plus, there.

By the time it was done, it would be late and she could just
go to the bar and mix drinks whether he liked it or not. She’d take extra
clothes and change there. The black pleather underbust corset would work—she’d
wear it with the sheer lace bra for her slut shoot and then change and put it
over a black shirt for mixing drinks. A denim mini for tonight.

But what for now…?

She studied her clothes. There was a black miniskirt but it
wasn’t really short enough…

Memory flashed through her mind.

She’d worn that out with Brogan.

Pain lanced through her heart. Hissing out a breath, she dug
a pair of scissors out and cut a jagged strip off the bottom, turning the mini
into a micro. She had detachable garter straps that could turn just about
anything into garters and she hooked those onto the bottom of the skirt.

Black fishnets and she was deliberately careless as she put
them on, tearing holes in them. After hooking the raw edges of the fishnets
onto the garters, she put on the sheer lace bra. She could see her nipples
through it. “Sluts r us,” she murmured as she grabbed her underbust corset. She
was already slender, but it narrowed her waist more and managed to emphasize
what little she had in the way of hips and boobs, pushing them up and out.

When she finished, she stared in the mirror for a minute and
then went for the makeup.

Dark, heavy and extreme. Heavy on the eyeliner, the
eyeshadow and the mascara, very little in the way of blush, topping it off with
lipstick the color of blood. Against her pale skin, the effect was almost too
much.

But that was the whole point of the get-up. Too much.

She looked like a walking advertisement for fast and easy,
she figured. One more thing, though…the knee-high leather boots. She had a pair
of thigh boots, but she’d left those in storage.

“Very good.”

Catching a glimpse of Lou in her mirror, she smirked. “I had
to butcher a skirt to get one this short. You better approve.”

He came up behind her and tugged the skirt up. “You’re
wearing panties.”

“I often do.”

“Not today.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already tugging
them down, detaching the garters to get them out of the way. “Damn it, Lou, I
don’t often walk around in something this short without panties, you know.”

As he dropped them to the floor, he leaned in and rested his
chin on her shoulder. “You just spent more than a year with a guy who didn’t
get what you want. Now you’re with somebody who does. Why don’t you just play
with me for a while, Lacey?” His hand pressed against her belly, then
lower…lower, until he could hook his fingers under the hem of her short skirt
and then push two of them inside her. Quick, fast…pumping, twisting.

As he finger-fucked her with one hand, he used the other to
nudge her forward. “Don’t you miss playing, Lacey?” he asked. “Really playing?”

And the look in his eyes was a challenge. A dare.

“Are we playing or doing this photo shoot?” she asked, the
words squeezing out of her suddenly tight throat as she stared at him.

His grin was wild. “Both.”

“Oh hell.”

A second later, she heard him unzipping his jeans. Then she
heard foil tearing and it wasn’t another thirty seconds before he was pumping
inside her, hard, fast and deep. When he brought one hand down, hard, on her
ass, she moaned.

“You miss playing, don’t you?”

Gasping for air, staring at their reflections in the mirror,
she shuddered around him, clenched down tight. “Tell me,” he ordered, spanking
her again.

Lacey glared at him.

He fisted a hand in her hair and jerked her head back, hard.
As pain blossomed, she smiled. “Yes, I miss playing.”

He held her upright, shafting her slowly, his cock swelling
inside her, rubbing against her just
there
…and it was slow, and sweet, a
direct contract to the tight, near painful way he fisted his hand in her hair. He
stroked a hand down her midsection, caught one nipple between thumb and forefinger,
and twisted it. “Like that?” he asked.

“No.”

“Tell me…”

“Harder,” she whispered, swiveling her hips against his and
trying to take him deeper, faster.

He pinched her then, taking it to the point of pain, and she
screamed. “Good girl,” he muttered. Her head fell back against his shoulder
when he let go and he stroked his hand down the middle of her body, tugging her
skirt higher until they could see the curls between her thighs, and lower, his
cock as he shuttled in and out. “Can I spank your pussy, Lacey? Do you still
like that?”

Lacey cried out, just thinking about it.

He swatted her lightly, but the contact wasn’t enough. She
tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. Chuckling, he murmured, “We’ve got
all day to play, baby girl. All day…and it’s going to be fun games. Maybe even
new ones.”

He continued those light little taps against her swollen
clitoris as he rocked inside her clenched vagina.

He brought her to climax after climax…and when he was
through, her body was so sated, she almost forgot how much her heart ached.

Almost.

“I need to shower.” Lacey came out of the bedroom, her legs
wobbling, her makeup a little smeared.

“Sorry.” He gave her a pained smile and checked his watch. “We
need to get to the studio. Like…twenty minutes ago.”

Lacey glared at him and looked down at herself. “I’m a mess,
damn it.”

“No.” He shook his head and said honestly, “You look
gorgeous.”

She grimaced and turned to stare at the mirror hanging over
the couch. “No. I don’t. I look like I’ve just been laid.”

“Like I said…you look gorgeous. You look like the woman I
just fucked. That’s a look I want to capture If you shower, you lose the look.
Then we have to…” He paused, narrowed his eyes. “Okay, none of that is a bad
idea.”

Lacey just stared at him. “Are you ever going to grow up?”

“No.” He slid an arm around her waist. “Aren’t you glad?”

Laughing, she pressed a kiss to his chin. “Well,
sometimes…yes. I am.” Then she groaned. “I need five minutes.”

“Sure.” He let go. “Just one thing.”

She was already down the hallway. Turning to him, she
started to say, “What?”

Then she saw the iPhone in his hand and she went to block
the picture.

But he’d already snapped it.

“Damn it, you moron! I look like a slut!”

“Exactly. My hot little tramp,” he said, grinning.

Lacey locked herself in the bathroom and once he heard the
lock snick in place, he sent the picture. Lou had already grabbed the phone
number he needed from her cell, programmed it into his.

She looks pretty fucking hot, doesn’t she?

He was smiling as he sent the message.

Now, if his instincts were off, he could be looking at lots
of physical pain in the near future—not from Lacey. There were games a couple
of lovers could play and as long as they were both good with the rules, all was
cool. Something Brogan apparently hadn’t figured out about Lacey—she was
kinky.
As in
Kinky
with a capital
K
. You wanted to turn that girl on?
Spank her and call her a little slut. You want to really light her up? Tie her
down and do it.

The dirtier the play, the more she liked it.

Now her boy had figured out she liked it a little rough, Lou
suspected. And Brogan wasn’t into all vanilla play. He just knew…it was an edge
others carried. It was surprising that Lacey was as dark as she was—she looked
like Strawberry Shortcake all grown up, but grown up she was, and she liked her
games.

Brogan just didn’t seem to get how much.

Lou was going to do him a favor.

It was, he suspected, the only way Lacey was going to be
happy. Because she was gone over on the man.

His phone buzzed. He deleted the message without reading it
and put it on silent.

By the time Lacey was done, he had his equipment packed up.
He figured they had a few more minutes.

Brogan wouldn’t have left town yet. Not yet. He was stubborn
enough that he’d try to talk to her one more time, at least. That was how Lou
had pegged him.

Lou just hoped he wasn’t wrong.

The first time he’d seen Lacey, Brogan had all sorts of
fucked-up images in his head. He’d wanted to see her stripped naked and spread
open in front of him. He’d wanted to see her bent down before him, wearing one
of those half corsets she liked that pushed up her breasts—that and a bra.
Maybe a short skirt and the knee boots she loved so much. Then he wanted her on
her knees.

And he’d had her…all of those ways.

But there were other ways he’d wanted her…darker journeys
that he’d wanted to take, and the laughter and light he saw in Lacey wasn’t
made for those dark journeys.

But if a woman went down that road and wasn’t ready for it,
it only led to misery, and a lot of it. It didn’t matter if he could make her
want it. He knew all about making a woman want things. Just as he knew all
about what happened when the haze and the hunger wore off. He’d been there. He
wasn’t doing it again.

Lacey wasn’t meant for some of the darker roads…

That was what he told himself.

And yet he was seeing her there, glaring at the camera,
wearing something that made him want to turn her over his knee and spank her
for letting another man see her, something that made him want to push her
against a wall and fuck her raw.

His hands were sweating, he realized. Sweating, trembling.

Clenching his jaw, he threw down the phone. He was leaving.
She’d made herself clear and he couldn’t do what she needed, she couldn’t be
what he needed, in the end. It was better—

Snarling, he grabbed the phone when it beeped again a few
minutes later.

I’ll have fun with her if you can’t be bothered.

“Have fun with her?” Brogan stared at the phone. He didn’t
recognize the number. But he didn’t need to know who it was.

That friend of hers? Lacey was in for a rude awakening if
she thought Lou was really a
friend
.

“You’re helping,” he told himself.

And he wanted to believe that.

But even as he tore off down the road, he knew he lied.

Lacey stared at the glass in front of them, voyeuristic
almost. If it was anybody
but
Lou, there was no way she’d be here. She
would have walked out so fast, she might have broken an ankle.

But this was Lou.

And she needed to be distracted.