The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play Book 3)

by B. B. Reid

  “Congratulations,” the operator offered. “You’re our first winner today. Do you know which prize you’d like?”

  Slowly, my gaze traveled back to the two bodies pressed close together behind the cotton candy stand, and I realized my prize had already been stolen.

  Present

  “THAT’LL BE $103.98.”

  After paying for my purchases, I charged onto the busy New York street with my nicotine patches and chewing gum in tow. It had been six days since I quit smoking, and I was already on my second attempt. I thought I could quit cold turkey, but last night, I’d given in to one addiction to keep from indulging in another. Six whole days since my encounter with Bee, and I couldn’t close my fucking eyes without feeling her press against my fingers or hearing her soft, sweet moans. She’d been close, but I’d been cruel.

  When I reached the high-rise that housed NaMara’s headquarters, I rode the elevator to the thirty-ninth floor and made a beeline for the men’s room. Once inside, I locked the door, removed my tie, vest, and dress shirt before cleaning the only spot, except my damn ankles, that wasn’t covered by hair or a tattoo. The tiny space between my left collarbone and my arm was just big enough to fit the patch, so after drying it off, I carefully applied it.

  I have no fucking clue why I’m even doing this.

  Or who I was doing it for.

  I didn’t give a fuck enough to do it for myself. My mom was in Ireland, still grieving my father while taking care of my grandparents and raising two hellions by her damn self. Although she cared, her hands were too full to take on my shit, too.

  That only left one person, and I hadn’t decided yet if she was worth it.

  I told myself it didn’t matter because I’d probably be smoking again by morning. I’ve never been very disciplined, and before now, the flaw had only served me well.

  After redressing, I popped one of the gums in my mouth because I’d been feening all damn day and made my way to my cubicle. There were at least three empty offices on the floor above, but my uncle made me work down here with the grunts because he couldn’t help but be an asshole. He said I needed to learn some humility after he caught me propositioning the young receptionist. Whatever that meant.

  It wasn’t like Lauren would sue the company for sexual harassment. I only approached her because I’d caught her staring at my dick one too many times. The leggy receptionist was mid-twenties, busty, and glossed her lips seventeen times a day. With a wallet full of rubbers, and that was pretty much all I needed to know about her. So even though I didn’t have an office with a view, Lauren gave me something just as great to look at whenever I was bored enough.

  I didn’t care too much about where I sat, either way. It wasn’t like I had any responsibilities anyway. Now that I was done with school and waiting for graduation, I had the feeling my uncle was using this “internship” as a way to keep me out of trouble. My workdays were filled with shaking hands, data entry, filing papers, and making countless coffee runs.

  I snorted, drawing Lauren’s brown-eyed gaze. She had an unobstructed view of me, and she took advantage of it every chance she got, blushing all the time and shit. I started to wave her over, knowing it wouldn’t be hard to talk her into the storage closet where they kept the office supplies. As soon as the thought entered my mind, it was shoved aside by the memory of me pushing Bee against the kitchen wall, slipping my hand down her shorts, and giving her greedy clit a fit. With an irritated growl, I ducked my head, ignoring the invitation in Lauren’s smile.

  After wasting a few hours watching YouTube and trolling my friends online, my uncle finally stopped being a dick and told me he was releasing me for the day. It was a pleasant surprise since he usually made me stay until five, whether he had something for me to do or not, which was hardly fucking ever. It was a Friday, and the rest of the office had been gone for at least an hour now. After calling down to the valet, I left without hesitation or a single question asked. It wasn’t until I reached the lobby and the elevator doors opened that I realized my mistake.

  The coldest gray eyes stared back at me, and when he recognized me, he smiled. I didn’t smile back. “It’s good seeing you again, Jameson.”

  “Wish I could say the same,” I shot back. I made no move to leave the elevator even when Sean stepped inside and pressed the button for the fortieth floor. I gritted my teeth as I watched the doors slowly close and felt the elevator begin to rise. Neither of us said a word for the first ten or fifteen floors, but I was the first to break the silence. “I know you’re Ever’s father.”

  Sean didn’t react, which only raised more questions. Ever’s true paternity had been treated like some sordid secret for so long that I’d expected more. Something.

  Instead, Sean continued to stare at the steel doors.

  “What did you mean when you said that your sons and I would be dead if weren’t for you? Who is the other?” And where the hell was he?

  This time, Sean turned to me, but he seemed amused rather than angry. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “If it were, I wouldn’t be asking.”

  Once again, he seemed unbothered as he leaned against the back wall of the elevator, but his gray eyes slowly shifting to blue told me otherwise. The subtle reaction to my line of questioning tugged at my memory for some reason. The elevator began to slow, and a glance at the lit panel told me we were almost on the fortieth floor.

  “All you need to know is that the next time you go chasing after monsters in the night, there might not be a ghost in the trees to save your ungrateful ass.”

  The doors opened, and without a backward glance or a goodbye, Sean slipped through them. I turned his words over and over in my head as I watched him make his way to my uncle’s office. The lights had been shut off, but I knew my uncle was still inside, and Sean must have known it, too, because without knocking or hesitation, he slipped inside.

  As if the hour drive during rush hour traffic from the city back to Blackwood Keep wasn’t grueling enough, I couldn’t stop Sean’s last words from echoing in my head. By the time I pulled up to the navy-blue two-story with white trim and charcoal roof, I was ready to turn that fucking leaf back over and smoke about fifty fags.

  The driveway was already packed with Ever’s G-wagon and Vaughn’s white Aventador, so I parked behind Four’s yellow and black Café Racer. For a moment, I allowed myself to sit back and picture Bee straddling a bike like that with absolutely nothing on. When I felt myself getting hard, I cursed and hopped out of my Jeep. I didn’t bother knocking before letting myself in, knowing it would piss Wren off. Lou was always forgetting to lock the damn door.

  After what had gone down with Wren’s former boss and mentor, they had to keep their guard up. Fox was still out there somewhere, and once he was done licking his wounds, we’d be ready for him. You fucked with one of us, you fucked with us all, and that was the way it would always be.

  Turning the lock, I followed the sound of laughter until I found my friends gathered in the kitchen. The second Wren looked up from chopping onions and saw me standing there, he scowled down at Lou.

  “I forgot,” she whined as she stirred something in a large bowl.

  Shaking his head, he went back to chopping while I grabbed the only empty seat left next to Vaughn.

  “Dude, please tell me you brought beer?” he whispered for some reason.

  “Negative.” I frowned as I checked my phone. I had a few texts from a couple of hookups, but none from my friends. And none from Bee. “Was I supposed to?”

  “They don’t have any,” he said.

  “And neither should you,” Winny, Wren’s grandmother, fussed as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. “The only person old enough to drink in this house is me. If you’re thirsty, have some water.”

  Vaughn gave me a look that said: “What the fuck?”

  All I could do was grin because Winny reminded me of my mother. She didn’t take anyone’s shit, either.

  “Dice those onions smal
ler,” she instructed Wren. “Unless, of course, that’s all you want your friends tasting when they eat your food.” Plucking her purse from the cluttered island, she headed for the door.

  “Wait, you’re not staying for dinner?” I called after her.

  “I’ve got plans,” she said before rushing out the front door.

  I snickered because I knew exactly who with. When I glanced over at Wren, I noticed his nostrils flaring. I guess he knew, too. “I see you finally figured it out, huh?”

  “Bite me,” he growled.

  “Don’t be so selfish. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and Grams and Mr. Rogers aren’t getting any younger,” I teased. “No one should die alone.”

  I ducked, barely missing the large onion Lou had hurled with expert precision at my head.

  Wren smirked as he leaned down and kissed her. “Why are you so fucking sexy?” he asked with a groan against her lips.

  Shrugging, Lou went back to stirring. “I ask myself that every day.”

  Looking around the kitchen, I realized we were missing some people. “Where are Four and Ever?” Their rides were definitely parked outside.

  Not one of them met my gaze when Vaughn mumbled, “Upstairs in one of the spares.”

  I sighed, wondering how long before Four found herself knocked up. They never seemed to stop fucking, and now that they no longer lived underneath the same roof, no place was off-limits.

  And I had the feeling they weren’t the only ones sneaking around right now.

  Rising from my stool, I stood behind Vaughn and placed my hands on his shoulders. The moment his muscles tensed, I began kneading. It only took about two seconds for him to lose his shit.

  “What the—what the fuck are you doing, Buchanan?”

  I continued massaging his shoulders just as Sean had done my uncle the first time I caught him in his office. “Relax. I’m just trying something out.”

  “Well, fucking quit it! When’s the last time you got laid, man?”

  My grip on his shoulders tightened as I thought about last night’s rendezvous with my right hand. I’d pretended it was Bee’s soft hand gripping me, and in my dreams, she’d been so patient. So tender. Shuddering, I looked down at my crotch and snickered. An inch closer and Vaughn would have felt my erection tickling his spine. “A week ago,” I said. I’d hooked up with some random at a party whose name I couldn’t even recall.

  “Then why the fuck are you hitting on me?” he spat.

  “So that was weird for you?”

  “Massaging my shoulders? A tad, you fuck.”

  “You mean you couldn’t tell by his squealing?” Four mused as she moseyed into the kitchen with Ever swaggering in behind her. I didn’t miss the lazy look in either of their eyes or the satisfied smirk on Ever’s lips. “Even we heard him from upstairs.”

  Vaughn looked ready to tell Four off, but an eyebrow from Ever had him backing down with a roll of his eyes. “Pussy-whipped simp,” he muttered.

  Somebody was on the bitter train.

  It was his own damn fault for letting his father dictate who he could fall in love with.

  As if I’d conjured her up, the doorbell rang. I stood to answer it since Wren and Lou were busy trying not to burn the food.

  “Hey, sorry,” Tyra said as she rushed in. “My relief had car trouble and was late for her shift.”

  “I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again, quit that job and these people, and just run away with me,” I flirted.

  Giggling, she pushed me away. “In your dreams.”

  “Weren’t you listening?” I quipped as I followed her into the kitchen. “Where do you think I got the idea? When I dream, I dream big.”

  Ignoring me, Tyra greeted everyone before kissing Vaughn and stealing my seat. He was too busy scowling at me to kiss her back, though. “Sooooo… what did I miss?” she said as her gaze traveled back and forth between us.

  “I gave your boyfriend a massage, and he acted like I groped his dick.”

  “You may as well have, you fucking prick.”

  Tyra frowned as she regarded Vaughn. “So what? That doesn’t mean anything. You’re telling me you’d only get a massage from a female masseuse?”

  “He’s not a fucking masseuse!” Vaughn barked.

  “Oh, God.” Tyra groaned as she clutched her forehead. “Please don’t tell me you’re homophobic. That’s a deal-breaker, times ten, Rees.”

  He sucked his teeth while I chose to ignore her comment about me being gay. I definitely wasn’t but getting the answers I needed while avoiding a million questions was worth a little side-eye.

  “Of-fucking-course-not,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. “I still want to know his deal, though.”

  Everyone’s eyes traveled to me. Even Wren and Lou had broken free of their bubble to regard me. I definitely needed to talk to those two. Alone.

  “I don’t know,” I pretended to muse as I hopped onto the island. “I was thinking of trying dick for a while. Pussy is getting to be a little monotonous, you know?”

  “No,” Vaughn said with a sarcastic twist of his lips. “I don’t know.”

  “But you never know how great it can be from both sides until you give it a try, though, right?” When I winked at him, he rolled his eyes. He wasn’t falling for my shit, but at least he wasn’t asking questions I couldn’t answer just yet.

  An hour later, we were packed inside their tiny living room, ready to devour the pizza and wings we ordered after Wren disappeared to take a call, and Lou somehow burned our dinner to a crisp. I watched from the corner of my eye as she checked her phone for the umpteenth time and pursed her lips.

  “Expecting someone?” Leaning over, I whispered, “A single friend, perhaps?”

  Reaching up, Lou pinched my cheek. “Whatever happens, just remember,” she whispered back, “I’m only looking out for my bestie.”

  “I’m your damn best friend,” Wren barked as he returned from the kitchen with a stack of plates. After handing them to Lou, she counted them, and we both frowned when she said she needed eight. There were only seven of us.

  Before Wren could grill her, however, the doorbell rang.

  “WE’RE HERE, MISS.”

  I stared at the beautiful, blue house and the familiar vehicles parked outside of it and wondered what the hell I was doing. Lou had invited me over when we weren’t even friends, and I accepted despite knowing who would be there.

  Or maybe the promise of who’d be here had been my reason for accepting.

  Willingly sharing the same space with Jameson was a bad idea on all counts, but it would only be for one night. A few hours free of my cage. A few hours spent being a normal teen hanging out. Lou had said as much when she called to extend the invitation. I’d hesitated to accept—a million reasons why I shouldn’t, waiting to spill from my lips.

  “You shouldn’t take life so seriously. We can’t control when we go or even how we go, but we can control the way we live… So lighten the fuck up.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at her “advice” as I watched the figures moving around inside the house. Lou had said dinner was at eight, and it was now six minutes after. Would they wait for me to start or just assume I’d stood them up?

  A moment later, my door opened, seemingly taking the decision from me. As Joe stood there, waiting for me to get out, I took a deep breath and grabbed onto my last bit of courage with both hands.

  It’s going to be fine.

  I had the feeling my monsters wouldn’t find me here.

  Grabbing the gift I’d brought for my hosts, I stepped from the SUV and offered Joe a shaky smile. I then told him to come back for me in a couple of hours. I had four hours until my curfew, but I was planning ahead just in case this turned into a nightmare. There were rare times my father let me out—usually when I told him I would be making some sort of public appearance with Ever—so when he did, my curfew was at midnight. It was a Friday night, and while most of my peers didn’t have o
ne or wouldn’t bother heeding it if they did, I knew, for me, it wasn’t an option.

  It had been a few years since he’d done so, but I could still feel the lash of my father’s belt whenever I broke his rules or wouldn’t comply.

  Walking up the paved path, I tried and failed to push away a certain memory from my mind. The night I stood underneath the stone archway up ahead and sang for two strangers while Jamie played his father’s guitar. It had been a cold, winter’s night, but I flushed hot with the memory—especially the reminder of Jamie sneaking into my bedroom and stealing me from my bed. He’d risked it all for his friends, and it only reminded me why I’d fallen for him in the first place.

  When I reached the black-painted door with a window cut into the shape of a snowflake, the butterflies I hadn’t felt in a long time took flight. Slipping my hand in my pocket, I wrapped my hand around the harmonica hidden there and squeezed. Have courage.

  Freeing my hand, I rang the doorbell.

  Well, fuck. There was no going back now.

  I could hear voices speaking all at once on the other side, and it sounded like they were arguing. A few seconds later, the front door was ripped open. Wren, who was seriously fucking mouthwatering with his dark-brown hair and stormy blue eyes, stood on the threshold, scowling.

  “Hey,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. “Barbette, right?”

  Even though his tone was polite, I couldn’t help but fidget when he hesitated to let me inside. Hadn’t he known I was coming?

  “Just Bee is fine.”

  Before he could respond, Lou appeared, ducking under his arm, and I released a sigh of relief.

  “For a second, I thought you stood me up,” she greeted with a grin.

  “Not at all.” Returning her grin, I lifted the case of beer that hadn’t been easy convincing Joe to purchase for me. I was pretty sure he only caved out of misplaced guilt. The NDA he signed made him privy to my family’s private affairs without worry that he would ever speak a word. “I just couldn’t come empty-handed.”