The Game Series (16 page)

Saying that being in a car with Maddie for eight hours would be a damn nightmare was the biggest fuckin' lie I've ever said.

It's hell. Every motel we pass by I want to park in, rent a room and take her in there and not leave until tomorrow. Every. Fucking. Motel.

But I don't want to fuck her. Oh no, not Maddie. I want to
make love
to her. I want to kiss every inch of that soft, golden skin, run my hands over every curve, and move inside her until she screams. Because I already know she does, and now I've admitted to myself that I feel something for her – and I mean really feel something for her – I want it to be more than a quick fuck somewhere in a parking lot. I want it to be special. More than anything I've ever experienced.

She drops her bag at the bottom of the king bed in our room in Treasure Island and looks around. Mom offered to book me a suite, but somehow I knew this would be enough for Maddie. Judging by the look on her face, I was right.

“Is it okay?” I perch on the green chair in the corner.

She nods. “It's beautiful.” She smiles, one of her light smiles that makes me smile back.

I knew it would be. The understated browns and greens of our room are calming and exactly what she needs after the week she's had because of her brother. Me?

I just need Maddie.

“Wanna go grab some food?”

“Uh, sure. Can I change first?” She gestures to her sweatpants.

“Sure, go ahead, Angel.”

She pulls some clothes from her bag and heads towards the en-suite bathroom, stopping on the way to kiss the corner of my mouth. She walks away, her ass wiggling, and I smile as I watch her go. I stare at the place her ass was for a good five minutes after she's shut the door.

I shake my head and secretly wonder if she's a witch and has cast a spell on me. No, she's too pretty for that. I shake my head again.

Thank fuck for this fake ID Megan managed to get, because I need a damn beer with this dinner.

The bathroom door opens, and Maddie steps out. I glance her way. The skin tight, black jeans she's wearing leave little to the imagination, and the hot pink top that flares from her boobs down makes me wonder exactly what's hidden underneath it. Her hair is piled high on top of her head with a few loose curls framing her face. She crosses the room, not noticing I'm practically drooling, and opens the mini suitcase. After some rummaging, she pulls out some black pumps with hot pink heels and slides her feet into them. She straightens, smooths her top in the full length mirror, and turns to me.

“Is this okay?”

I blink. Swallow.
Shit.
She looks fucking beautiful. “You look fucking beautiful.”

She smiles. “Thank you. Megan said to dress up, so
....” She holds her hands out. “I dressed up.”

“I like you dressed up,” I mutter, walking over to her. I run my hands down her arms and take her hands, my eyes sweeping her from head to toe. “Yeah. I definitely like you dressed up. I like it a lot.”

She glances down then up at me through her lashes. “It's not too much?”

I shake my head and step closer to her, closing the distance between us. “No, it's perfect.” I kiss her softly. “Now I feel like I should be wearing a shirt.”

“Maybe you should be.” She smiles.

I grin at her and kiss her once more before turning away. I find a white shirt from my bag and a pair of dark jeans. I strip – no going into the bathroom like Maddie did – and change, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I face her as I do up the buttons of my shirt, and her eyes are fixed on my chest. A small, smug smile graces my lips.

“Is my collar straight?” I ask, tilting my head back and exposing my neck.

“Mm? What?” She snaps back to it. “Oh, not quite.”

Her heels are soundless against the carpeted floor as she steps up to me and reaches up to adjust my collar. When she's done, she smooths her hands down my chest and kisses my neck, brushing her lips along the hollow of my collarbone afterward.

“Hey,” I whisper huskily. “None of that, or we won't be going for dinner.”

She smirks and steps back, letting her fingers trail down my body. “Stopping.”

I step forward. “You don't have to stop, Maddie, I'm just saying
....”

“Well, I'm hungry.” She bats her eyelashes. “Where are we eating?”

“I was thinking Phil's Italian Steakhouse.”

She purses her lips for a moment. “Expensive.”

“And my treat.”

“You can't exactly take me for dinner on your birthday weekend, Bray.”

“Hey.” I step closer to her again, resting my hand on her hip and holding her chin. “You're my girl, so my birthday or not, if I wanna treat you, I'm gonna treat you, okay? And tonight I wanna treat you. You can pay for dinner tomorrow on my actual birthday.”

She sighs. “Well, okay, but you should know we're only going for pizza tomorrow night.”

Her eyes glimmer, and I grin at her. She smiles back. “Pizza is fine.”

“Good.” She leans up and kisses me. “Now feed me.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I take her hand and pull her from the room, slipping the key card into my pocket.

She leans into my side on the way down in the elevator. “Are the others meeting us there?”

“No.” I kiss the top of her head. “Dinner tonight is just for us.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand, and we step out. “See, I realized we haven't been for dinner yet, and according to Google that makes me a bad boyfriend.” I wink, and she laughs.

“You googled it? Really?”

I half-smile at her. “Only so it could be perfect for you.”

She stops laughing and leans up, touching her lips to my cheek. “It's perfect anyway.”

I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “Come on, let's get some food.”

~

The low light of Phil's Italian Steak House is perfect for dinner. Despite the place being packed – making me thankful I'd thought to book a table before we left college – there's something intimate about it.

Maybe it's because I've never really taken the time to be with Maddie before now. Maybe because it's finally more than just sex. I don't fuckin' know.

But being in this casino now with everyone makes me wish we were back in the restaurant.

Maddie runs her finger around the top of her wine glass.

“Okay, Angel?” I put a hand on her back.

She looks up and smiles. “I'm fine. You?”

“Fine.” I kiss her quickly.

Megan powers through our crowd and takes Maddie's free hand. “I'm stealing her. Go be a boy and play poker or something!”

“What are we gonna do?” Maddie asks and shrugs at me.

“There's a hot bartender over there, and I want his number!” Megan laughs, and I shake my head. Aston's head snaps round and watches her as she leaves. My eyes flick between them – okay, between them and Maddie.

Aston better not have designs on Megan because I'll break his fuckin' neck if he does.

The girls disappear into a throng of people, and I join the guys. “Poker?”

“Poker,” Ryan agrees, finishing his beer and putting the glass on the bar. We all move into the poker room to a mercifully free table. After sitting, Ryan signals to the dealer that he's got it. He deals in a way that only growing up in a casino can teach you. His smooth way with the cards means there’s no chance anyone other than the person the hand belongs to will have seen it. That's what you get when your Dad owns a casino in Atlantic City, I guess. You also get to deal at your own table if you know the casino owner, apparently.

“Game on,” Aston grins.

Ten minutes in, Aston is panicking as his pile of chips dwindle slowly.

“You have the shittest poker face I've ever seen,” Ryan announces. “And I've seen a lot, Aston.”

“Slot machines are just back in there if you want 'em.” I wink.

“Fuck off,” Aston says. “Slot machines are for girls.”

“And poker is for men who don't wobble their bottom lips when they have a shit hand.” Ed laughs.

The rest of the guys join in the piss-taking and after a few minutes, I break it up.

“All right, guys, come on,” I wave my hand. “Give the poor baby a break. It's not his fault the only card game he can play properly is fuckin' Old Maid.”

The table roars with laughter, and someone clips me round the back of the head.

“The fuck?” I turn and Megan is standing there with her eyebrows raised. “I thought you were getting some waiter's number.”

“I got it.” She waves a little piece of paper before tucking it into her purse. “But we got bored and want to do something else. Lila suggested hitting a club, either in or out of the hotel.”

I look at the guys, and they don't object.

Ryan shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

“You only say that cause you're whipped, Ry.” Jake punches his arm.

Ryan shows his hand. “You'd say the same thing if you shared a bed with her. She's a fuckin' animal.”

Megan tosses a chip at his head. “Pigs! Do you think Lila discusses your sex life with us?”

“I know she does,” Ryan laughs. “You all discuss your sex life. It's like a bunch of Granny's being together at bingo.”

“You're all just a whole lot hotter.” Aston winks at Megan, and she rolls her eyes.

“Can we go? These shoes do have a wearable time limit, you know.” She cocks her leg to show the bright blue pumps with daggers for heels. “And I think Aston's had enough of you guys ripping on him now.”

We laugh and throw the cards down, deciding to call it even.

“Hey, Megan,” Aston slinks up beside her. “If those shoes get too much later, and you need a hand getting to your room, you know where I am.”

I clench my fists, watching as she turns to him and touches his chest, batting her eyelashes.

“Aston, honey, if I'm gonna get someone to take me to bed, it'll be someone more qualified than you. Say, someone who can play more than just Old Maid. You think on that and come back when you've at least learned to play Go Fish, get that?” She beams and spins on her heels, stalking out of the poker room, leaving him staring after her dumbfounded.

“And that, my friend.” I slap his shoulder. “Is what happens when you try your dirty tricks on a girl with more class than a month of your bed-warming whores.”

“Because you'd know all about that,” he replies dryly, following us out to the main hall.

I spy Maddie, twirling a piece of hair around her finger and laughing with Lila. “Actually, I would.”

I walk up behind her and circle her waist with my arms. “Ready to go?”

“Mhmm.” She turns her head into me, and we all head to the floor that holds the Kahunaville party bar.

The Kahunaville party bar is tiki. Maybe Hawaiian. Personally, I always thought they were the same – and maybe they are.

Or maybe that's the wine already clouding my vision, so perhaps the margarita Megan just handed me isn't a smart idea. I'll drink it anyway because these girls have successfully corrupted me from the good girl I was a few weeks ago, to the semi-bad girl I am now.

I say semi-bad because I haven't had sex yet. Glancing up at Braden next to me, I think I might have to remedy that tonight. Then we'll have a pretty little Brooklyn Maddie and California Maddie with a dash of Braden Maddie all rolled into one.

What a delightful little package
that'll
be.

I accept Lila's hand when she holds it out to me to dance. My thoughts are getting morbid, and I won't let my past ruin this weekend for Braden. He deserves a good birthday.

Servers dance between tables, swaying their hips and the flair bartenders throw cocktails shakers around. If I was ten years younger, I'd absolutely want to be a flair bartender when I grew up. But I am grown up – sort of. And it's not really that great, is it?

Oh, sheesh. Apparently alcohol depresses me.

And makes me talk shit.

Shoot me.

I move with Lila to the beat of the music, and it doesn't take long for Megan to join us, shaking her hips in a way that has every guy besides Braden and Ryan fixating their eyes on her. I giggle.

“Where's Kay?” Lila asks.

“Not sure.” Megan shrugs. “I think she hooked up with someone doing a table in the casino. She said she'd text.”

“Check your phone,” I say. “Before we all get too drunk.”

Megan nods and reaches into her purse for it. “Yep, she hooked up with that guy.”

“A guy?” Lila and I say in unison. “A
guy
?”

“Yep.” Megan throws her head back and laughs. “Well, hey, she was right. She does like a bit of-”

“Bamboo stick?” Lila interrupts. I laugh again.

“Where do you come up with this?” I look at her.

“Well she can't exactly say dick out loud here, can't she?”

Megan smirks. “You just did.”

“Shit.” Lila covers her mouth. “So I did. Oh well, I am twenty-one.”

“For a weekend,” I whisper, and we all laugh.

“Are you compromising my girl?” Braden asks, stepping up smoothly behind me.

“I always compromise her,” Megan replies, unaffected. “You're just never around to see it.” She grins, and I look away, knowing she's referring to Play the Player.

Yeah, sorry, I kinda failed on the whole
'don't fall for him'
thing. My bad.

Braden brushes his lips across my ear. “Leave the compromising to me.”

He's had whiskey, I can smell it – but he's not drunk. Have we danced that long? Apparently.

His hand creeps around to my stomach, his fingers splaying outwards. His body presses against me. “Let's get you a drink.”

I nod and silently allow him to lead me back to the bar. He takes me to a corner and, after ordering me whatever the hell a daiquiri is, sits me on a stool. He nudges my legs open and stands between them, one hand on the bar and another on my waist.

“Did you know that when you dance, your hips do this thing where they move?”

“I think that's the general idea.”

“No, but they move in this way that makes me wish we weren't in public,” he breathes, his fingers digging into my skin. “Because, see, they give me all kinds of crazy fuckin' ideas about how those hips would move beneath me.”

My heart pounds in my chest, and I swallow, trying in vain to steady my breathing. “Is that right?”

“It is.” He kisses my jaw, and I grip his shirt. I turn my face so my mouth ends up near his ear.

“Who said we have to stay in public?” I breathe out, feeling the want building up inside me. I let go of his shirt and let my hand fall down, my fingers brushing across his jeans and the evidence of just how turned-on my dancing has made him.

I'm not a virgin, not exactly well experienced, but something about Braden makes me lose all inhibitions. He makes me feel sexy.

His hips jerk, and he slides me across the stool so my body slams into his, the throbbing space between my legs hitting him. I take a sharp breath in, my back going straight.

“Then let's go.”

He tugs me up and waves for the bartender to give one of the girls my drink. With my hand firmly clasped in his, he pulls me through Kahunaville and towards the elevator outside the bar.

The doors ping open, and he pulls me in. He hits the button for our floor, and I find my back pressed against the cold, mirrored wall.

His electric blue eyes are heated, cloudy, misty. Needing, wanting. It's like our eyes are two opposite poles, held together by a damn strong attraction neither of us can fight.

“Maddie, are you drunk?” he asks.

“No. I'm not sober, but I'm not drunk.”

He strokes my side. “Because we're not doing this if you are. I'm not gonna take advantage of you.”

I grip his chin. “I'm not drunk, Braden. I know exactly what I'm doing. What we're doing.”

“Good.” He steps back as the doors open and I follow him through towards our room. He swipes the card through the door and holds it open for me, allowing me to pass through.

Braden shuts the door behind him, turning to face me slowly. The look in his eye has my heart pounding furiously against my chest like it's trying to escape.

His slow, calculated steps swallow up the room as he comes closer to me. All breath leaves my body as his tickles its way across my cheek, fluttering my hair. He raises his hand and runs it along the side of my head, pushing my curls back and tilting my face up to him. He grips my waist gently, his fingers flexing, and steps closer to me.

My chest heaves as I struggle to breathe, struggle to
remember
to breathe through the need enveloping me. My legs are beginning to shake with it and after the performance in the bar and being so close in the elevator, I know if it doesn't happen soon, I'll go crazy. He kisses the corner of my eye, trailing his lips down towards my jaw.

He pulls his head back, and the cloudy blue eyes I've come to know so well collide with mine. My chest heaves, and I lick my lips. He drops his gaze, and I feel his resolve leave in the way he pulls me towards him.

His lips find mine. Hot, soft, and slow. He kisses me so thoroughly yet so gently I want to cry. My hands wind around his neck, and I hold him to me, gripping the collar of his shirt. Our feet move in sync as we move backwards towards the bed, our lips locked the whole time. He stops me before I drop backwards and pulls away, looking into my eyes.

His hands slide under my shirt and gently roll it up my body, over my head and along my arms. My swollen lips part as he removes his.

I'm lowered back to the bed, and the second my back hits the mattress I hook my legs round his, kicking off my shoes. He kisses me again, his lips even hotter than last time. I respond greedily, flicking my tongue across his lips. He groans, and I feel his tongue meet mine.

His hands skim my waist, my stomach, my breasts. Every kiss, every touch, every breath - it all finds its way to the pit of my stomach. That red hot pool of lava is back and bubbling fiercely, demanding it gets the eruption it so desperately needs. The eruption I so desperately need.

I slide my hands across his back as his lips brush kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I shiver, the expectation already too much. He smiles against my skin, allowing his tongue to draw lazy circles down my chest. My back arches, and I press into him, his erection hitting my center.

“Beautiful. So, so beautiful.”

He unclasps my bra, and it falls to the sides. He takes one breast in his hand, the other in his mouth. I gasp. Loudly. His tongue swirls around one then the other and I tighten my leg muscles, my fingers digging into his muscular back.

“Braden.”

He ignores me, his mouth leaving me once again, only to ghost down my stomach. I'm panting - I can't focus on anything but the feel of him. The need for him. Want for him. Only him.

Kisses dot along just above the waistband of my jeans. The button is released, and he stops kissing me again. I glance down at him.

Holy. Crap.

He grips the zipper between his teeth, his eyes fixed on mine. I'm lost. I'm lost in the heat of his gaze, the electric blue fire burning there.

Slowly, he pulls my zipper down. With his teeth. His nose brushes the satin material waiting there for him, and my whole body twitches. He unwraps my legs from his, gently peeling the material down me. One leg first, his hands smoothing over the newly bare skin. My other leg rests on his shoulder, and he focuses on that, taking my jeans off completely.
Taking my foot in his hand, he kisses up my instep to my ankle, to my calf. Kisses rain up my leg, getting higher and higher and closer and closer until-

The other leg. The same pattern, the same places, the same kisses. His mouth is millimeters away from me, from the lava pool waiting for him. His fingers hook in the waistband of my thong, making them follow the same path as my jeans.

Hot breath across my hips. A hotter mouth descending slowly. An even hotter tongue making contact.

I gasp and moan simultaneously. One of Braden's hands presses on my stomach to stop the buck of my hips while the other reaches round to cup me behind, holding me to him. His tongue swirls and strokes and slips and slides. His mouth sucks, lips brush and teeth graze. Sensation builds, and I'm whimpering out moans, my hands gripping the cover beneath me, fisting it. My head thrashes side to side until-

I scream.

He kisses up my stomach slowly and in my half-dazed state, I hear the sound of another zipper being pulled. Material hitting carpet. Foil ripping.

Braden kisses me softly, and I can taste myself on him. His hand slips between my open legs, and I feel him move, his tip settling against me. My legs wrap around his waist, offering myself to him. My hands are on his back as he moves in, slowly.

I'm stretching to take him, and he swallows the moan that leaves me. The sensitive skin can't take it - I can't take it. He moves out slowly, finding a steady rhythm that has me going crazy.

“Braden, please,” I whisper against his neck, sucking lightly on his skin.

He slides a hand behind my back, and the other cups the back of my head. I graze my teeth along his shoulder, and he drops his head into my neck, kissing me repeatedly.

I clench my muscles once, and he loses pace, picking back up faster. Yes. This is what I want - what I need. I move with him, my hips undulating against his and I arch my back.

Breathing heavy. Forceful kisses. Desperate touches.

He kisses me hard as the sensation takes over, and I cry out his name, my whole body tensing as the waves roll over me. He falters, stops, and I feel all the air leave his lungs. He relaxes on top of me, his kiss slowly becoming softer.

We lie there, together, and when he discards the condom in the wastepaper basket and pulls me against him under the sheets, I know
its game over - but not in the way I thought.

It's supposed to be over.
We're
supposed to be over.

But when his every touch tells me I'm beautiful, every look tells me I'm sexy, and every smile tells me I'm all he wants, what's really over is my part in the game.

What's just beginning, is the very thing I set out to avoid.

And because of that crazy little thing called love, I don't even care.

~

“Hash House A Go Go,” Braden suggests, glancing at the screen on his cell. “Their food looks really good.”

“Okay.” I lean over the bed and kiss his cheek. “Your choice.”

“We can go somewhere else.”

“No. It's your birthday, we'll go to this a go go place.”

“You're going to insist on paying, aren't you?”

I grab my purse and stop by the door. “Of course I am.”

He groans and pockets his cell, standing up. He grabs a light jacket from the chair and stops behind me, reaching for the door handle. He touches his lips to my bare shoulder, and I turn my face to him, smiling.

“You know what I'd really like for breakfast, Angel?” he murmurs against my skin.

“No idea, but I'm sure you're about to tell me.” I smirk.

“I'd really like breakfast in bed. With you.”

“With me being the breakfast?”

He chuckles and moves my hair away from my face with his nose. “You learn fast.”

He opens the door, and Megan freezes, her hand in a knocking position.

“Maybe another time,” I mutter and step away from Braden. He lets out a tortured breath.

“Good morning, Meggy. Can I help you?” he deadpans.

She blinks, offended. “Well, I was coming to offer to buy you breakfast, but if you're gonna be like that, I'll make you buy your own, you grumpy shit.”