Play Me (9 page)

The truth is no one has ever made me feel this alive. Hormones that I haven’t felt in years are raging inside of me. “Answer me,” he hisses through his teeth.

No, he doesn’t.

Weston’s teeth graze my bottom lip before he gently bites down. All my fingers clench into his biceps. “You’re drunk,” I whisper.

I can feel his growl surge through me. “Does it look like I’m fuckin’ drunk, Roxanne? Stop avoiding the goddamn question. Let me fuckin’ have you.”

Let me fuckin’ have you.
Grabbing my back he pulls me closer, burying his face into my neck. My core is throbbing. I need this release. I need this friction.

“No, he doesn’t,” I whisper.

Weston squeezes me tighter and brings his lips to mine. “I didn’t think so.”

He watches me through hooded eyes while he drags the tip of his finger to the drop in the front of my shirt. Arching my back, I press my chest against him. My tender nipples rub against his chest and make my head dizzy. “I’m goin’ to show you how you’re supposed to feel when you kiss.”

God, I can’t think straight.
Every atom in me is driving me toward him. Begging me to strip him out of those clothes and let him have his way with me. But everything is spinning in my mind. Ryan and Maddox. Weston’s reputation. One night wouldn’t hurt though, right? Just one night. But would one night be enough? Weston’s lips are hovering over mine as if he’s waiting on me to kiss him. To make the first move. There is no way one night will be enough. Those large hands. That full mouth. Tattoos and muscles.
Can anyone say no to him?

Me. I can. I can say no. Biting my tongue as hard as I can manage, I press my hands against his hard chest.
Goddammit.
I gently shove him away from me. I can’t let this happen again. Not after that note. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

His eyes widen as he stumbles backwards. “Get out,” I whisper.

Weston’s gaze is boring a hole into me. Those dark eyes roam over my face searching to see if I’m serious. “Get out?”

“Yes.”

Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth he raises an eyebrow. “Okay.” And then he turns to grab his crutch before walking to the door. Slowly I walk behind him, keeping a safe distance and close the door as he exits.

His hand pops up and catches the corner before I can fully shut it. “Don’t think I don’t know you wanted me back there. Or right now. I’m leavin’ out of respect for your wishes, but I’m not going to stop.” His gaze lingers on my lips. “I am going to fuck that mouth.” He leans closer, his scent rushing over me. “I bet if I checked your panties right now I’d see how bad you really want me.”

Jesus Christ.
My thighs just melted into goo. I don’t look away. I lock my eyes with his and narrow my gaze. “Well, too bad, because you’re not goin’ to find out.”

And I shut the door.

In Weston Garrison’s face.
Oh, shit.

Chapter Seven

Weston

She just kicked me out. Kicked. Me. Out. Are those even fucking words? I seriously never thought I’d hear those words. Get out?
Yeah, right.

My hands curl around the steering wheel to my pickup. She did not just shut the door in my damn face. If my mouth wasn’t hanging to the ground I would go back and make her kiss me. God … those lips. I want them more than I’ve ever wanted something.

Slamming my fists against the steering wheel, I groan. This sucks major balls.
I know she’d been drinking at the party when she kissed me but I’m not buying the ‘I was drunk’ card. Because that kiss wasn’t hesitated. That kiss was something she’d been wanting. And I was ready to drown myself in it.

Goddammit
. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. Kiss me and walk away? I’ve made girls come by kissing them. Running my hand through my hair, I lean my elbow against the driver’s seat window. I’m coming onto campus when I drive by the field house. Coach’s truck is parked beside a car. Roxy’s car. It’s still there? Now that I think about it there was no car at her apartment.

Swerving into the parking lot I pull up beside the Civic and park. She still has a flat tire.
Does she not have the money?

A smile forms on my face as I dig my cellphone out of my pocket. I dial Jason’s number and pray he answers.

“Are you at your dorm?”

“Weston? Is that my run run running
back?”

I roll my eyes. He’s fucking drunk. I should have known.
He was chugging down with the best of them at the party. “Yea, Jason. Are you at your dorm?”

“Yeah, booyyy. You want some of Daddy’s sugar?”

“Fuck you, Jason. I’ll be there in a minute. And you better have some fuckin’ clothes on.”

***

Jason flings his door open. “Weston, brother. Come on into the palace.”

God this place reeks.
Wobbling in on one crutch, I stop when I see a leg hanging off of Jason’s bed. It’s attached to a body, of course, but it’s underneath his covers. “Am I interrupting?”

Jason runs his fingers through his hair and gives me a pointed look. “Would it matter if I were?”

I think about it. “No, probably not.”

He scoffs and sits on the bed beside the girl underneath the covers. “I need your help.”

He gestures for me to continue.

“I need you to go to the field house early tomorrow and fix a flat for me.”

Jason’s brows pull down in the middle and he scratches his jaw. “You got a flat bro? Did you walk home? You’re crippled, you should have called me.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s not mine. It’s a Honda Civic in the parking lot. I need you to take care of it.” I hand him the money and stand up.

“Wait,” Jason says, looking at the money and then back at me. “Whose car is it?” A huge smug smile is plastered on his face.

I roll my eyes and walk toward the door. “Not your concern, Jason. Just get it fixed. I’ll send you the address you need to drop it off at. Tomorrow morning.”

“Mornin’. Can’t you see it’s late and I’m kind of busy?” He tosses his head toward his bed.

I groan and open his door. “Doesn’t look like she’s that into you, Jason. She’s knocked out.”

He flips me off. “I’m not the one paying to fix a girls’ flat tire.”

I narrow my gaze on him. “Just do it, Jason.”

“I got you, Sunshine.” He pulls back his covers and turns over his shoulder to look at me. “Now if you don’t mind … “

I grin. “Not at all.”

***

Watching everyone practice is torture. They might as well be dangling meat in front of a starving dog. My leg throbs every time I think about getting out there. It’s only been a fucking week and it feels like three months.

Curling my fingers over the side of my locker, I press my forehead against the cool metal. My entire body is urging me to do something. To walk. To run. To get fucking better. Growling, I pull myself away and walk toward the showers. Practice has been over for a while, so most of the guys have already headed back home. Tugging my shirt over my head, I lean my crutch against the shower wall. We’ve got a prison type shower, but with partial stalls. I strip down the best I can with one leg and lean against the shower wall until the water is scorching hot against my skin.

My thoughts trail to Roxy. Jason dropped her car off this morning at eight and high-tailed it out of there. I hold back a laugh while I wash my hair. I can imagine the look on her face when she sees it in her driveway.
You wanna play, we can play.

“Weston!”

What the –

A loud thud echoes through the locker room and then I hear the click-clacking of heels against the floor. When I turn around Roxy is storming toward me. Her hands are tightened into fists and her lips pressed into a hard line. Her hips twitch as she takes long strides toward me. Then she starts shaking her head back and forth.

Ah, she’s found the car.

Roxy marches right through the aisle and stops right in front of my stall. I hide my smile as realization hits her. I’m naked. Her eyes widen and drop to my dick. Something crosses her face and then she lights up like Rudolph’s nose. “I –I found my car today,” she clears her throat. “It was in my parking lot.”

Grabbing the bar of soap, I run it over my chest and down my stomach. “Oh, yeah? Is your car not supposed to be in your driveway?”

She takes a step forward. She tilts her head upward in a pathetic attempt not to look at my cock. “I don’t need your pity money, Weston. And I don’t need gifts to try and get in my pants.”

Pity money? I grind my teeth together and step forward. “First off, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Secondly, I don’t need gifts to get in those pretty pink panties you’re wearing.”

She stays quiet for a few minutes. Her eyes boring into mine. “Don’t talk about my panties, Weston.” She snarls. “And you’re full of shit. My friend Erica was that ‘asleep’ girl in Jason’s bed. I know it was you. So. Full. Of. Shit. A lying shit!”
Why is she so angry?

Reaching out I grip her upper arm and pull her toward me. The shower streams down on both of us but she doesn’t move. “Oh, yeah? Because the only person lying to themselves here is you. Not me. I know what I want.”

Those pretty lips part and then she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. My dick is rock hard now and the friction of her stomach against it is driving me nuts. “Well, too damn bad,” she spits out.

She snatches her arm away and takes a step backwards but doesn’t leave. The peaked tip of her nipples shows through her wet thin T-shirt. “Roxanne,” I groan out, taking a step toward her. She sighs and turns to walk away but I grab her waist and haul her up on top of the shower divider.

She gasps and then grits her teeth. “Let me go …” she says it like a warning but I don’t buy it. Bringing my lips to her neck, I taste her. Her sweet skin against my tongue. “Let me go, Weston,” she says this time but the warning is gone. She’s panting against me.
Goddamn I’d do anything to get inside her.

I bring my mouth to hers, waiting for her to kiss me. Waiting for her lips. Then she pushes against my lips with hers, diving her tongue into my mouth. Her fingers trail down my chest and wrap around my dick. “Jesus Christ, Roxy,” I growl, gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. A lacey black bra is holding in those perfect tits. She watches me as I trail my finger over each cup and then down to her zipper.

I gently unbutton her jeans and slide them down to her mid-thigh. My fingers trail over her lower stomach. Soft, smooth skin. Then I stop. Roxy grabs my wrist. “You want to play, Weston?”

What? I glare down at her and see that she’s smiling. “We can play.” Then she grabs her T-shirt, jumps down and marches out of the shower room.

What. The. Fuck.

Oh, she’s going down.

Chapter
Eight

Roxy

I haven’t talked to Weston since the day in the locker-room shower. And it’s all I’ve been able to think about since. The way the ridges in his stomach tightened when he touched me. That tanned skin stretching across those huge bicep muscles. Each tattoo that wrapped around his arms and torso. A diamond hard cock that made my insides incinerate. I shiver.

My old Honda Civic is sitting in my driveway with a brand new tire. I have no idea why Weston did this but it’s driving me nuts. I don’t want to owe him anything.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and squirm in my seat. Even though I want to strangle him, it burns everywhere to think about him. The sun beats down on my legs that are propped upon the railing of my porch. Maddox makes a loud tire screeching sound as he pretends to drive a car, and all my thoughts of Weston drizzle from my brain. My phone vibrates in my pocket.

What are you doing?

It’s from Blake. A smile rises from the corner of my mouth but it suddenly vanishes. I haven’t even given Blake a second thought since my shower scene with Weston.
God, how could I?
I ached in places I forgot could ache.

Dammit, stop thinking about it!

Rolling my neck, I rest my head on the back of my seat and stare at a spider web stretched across the ceiling. I’m making a huge mistake by letting Weston kiss me. My rational self is shaking her head at me and my irrational self is hanging
Bang Me, Weston
posters all in my head.

I text back.
Relaxing. What about you?

I slip my phone back into my pocket and stand up. “Baby, you ready to come in for lunch?”

Maddox whirls around and cups his hand over his eyes. He looks just like his dad. “Can my friend come, too?” I glance over at the little boy that’s sweating just as profusely as Maddox.

I nod. “Yep, come on in and I’ll make you boys some sandwiches.” They both take off running toward the door while I walk inside and start on their sandwiches.

After lunch, Maddox and his friend get up to leave. I can’t believe they aren’t worn out yet, but I’m not complaining. “Can I use your phone, Mom?”

“Why?”

“So I can show Henry the Candy Crush game you’re always playing.”

I roll my eyes. I’m not
always
playing it. . “Sure.” I dig it out of my pocket and toss it to them. I clean the kitchen, pour me a glass of cheap wine and make camp on my couch. I’m in the middle of my bag of Cheetos when the front door swings open.

“Momma, what’s a tease?”

What? I look up over my wine glass. “Where did you hear that?”

Maddox digs around in his pocket and pulls out my phone. “Someone text you. It said something about being a fu—fuc,” he tries to sound it out but gives up. “Tease.” His brows pull down in the middle. “What is that?” My eyes widen and I reach for the phone.

Maddox’s friend, the kid that lives next door, wipes his sweaty forehead. “My daddy calls my mommy that sometimes.”