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

by B. B. Reid

  “You promise?”

  “Mm.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but then he was kissing me deeply, and I wrapped the thigh he wasn’t holding around his waist. My heel dug into his ass, feeling it flex as he pushed and shoved inside of me. Foolishly, I began to wonder what it would be like to feel his hot cum filling me up… just once.

  Knowing it was beyond stupid to risk, I counted to sixty.

  “Jamie, it’s been a minute now.”

  He didn’t respond at first. A moment later, he was rising to his knees, his hands gripping my ass as he lifted me into his defiant thrusts. “Did you count it Mississippi?” He pinned me with his gaze as he fucked me harder. “Did you, Bette?”

  Oh, fuck.

  “You promised.”

  It was the only response I could give, knowing he had no intention of pulling out. He felt too good for me to stop him.

  “Actually, I didn’t.” Biting his delectable lip, he closed his eyes as he threw his head back. Seeing the sweat glistening on his muscled chest, and watching his sculpted abs bunch as he worked his cock in and out of me made it impossible to look away. And even though I hated him at that moment, my pussy tightened around him as I came a fourth time.

  I told myself it would be fine—that I’d make him wear a condom next time.

  God, how stupid was I?

  Not even a full minute later, Jamie was coming, and with a hoarse cry, he’d spilled it all inside of me.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

  I was lying in the curve of Jamie’s body, feeling his cum seeping out of me and coating my thigh. As if I didn’t have enough problems, I now had to add “skipping town with Jamie’s baby inside of me” to my list of worries.

  Maybe he thought I was on birth control.

  Or maybe he knew that you weren’t.

  But that would be ludicrous, right? Jamie would be turning nineteen next month. What nineteen-year-old wanted babies?

  The moment I heard his light snores, I carefully freed myself from his arms, wincing at the soreness between my thighs. I found my phone lying among his dirty laundry, so I picked it up and headed to the bathroom.

  A few minutes later, I was on the toilet, googling the effectiveness of Plan B when Jamie barged in. Startled, I dropped my phone, and when I went to pick it up, he somehow beat me to it. I watched him read the health article I had pulled up and had trouble meeting his gaze after he tossed my phone on the bathroom sink.

  Wordlessly, he turned away to put on the shower, leaving me to wonder if he was upset. I wouldn’t give a shit if he was or not, just as he didn’t care when I asked him to pull out.

  It was a lesson I’d only need to learn once.

  No glove, no love.

  After cleaning up, I tried to leave to give him privacy, but he pulled me into the glass enclosure with him. For a long while, we stared into each other’s eyes as we stood under the spray, letting the warm water rain down over us. I need to get home.

  I told him so, and his response was to push me against the tile and kiss me deeply. I guess that meant I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He confirmed it when he spoke.

  “Tell me everything, Barbette. Tell me right fucking now because I’m not letting you marry someone else.”

  “It’s not exactly up to me,” I reminded him. Well, that wasn’t true. It should have been up to me, but my father was a terrible man with ancient beliefs.

  “I’ll talk to your father,” Jamie absently announced. He must have forgotten that they hated each other’s guts. His gaze became unfocused, and I could tell his mind was running a million miles an hour.

  “And say what?”

  Finally, his focus cleared. “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Grabbing his loofah, he poured his body wash on it, but instead of cleaning himself, he ran the soapy sponge down my neck, across my shoulders, and then my breasts. Taking a deep breath, I let him clean me. My mind was still reeling from that revelation to offer much argument.

  “Please, don’t say you’re going to offer to marry me,” I said when he was done cleaning me and started washing himself.

  The cold stare he gave me made me shiver despite the hot water and the steam clouding the bathroom. “Because you’d rather marry someone else. Anyone else but me?”

  I want no one else but you.

  Slowly, my hand reached up, and my fingers brushed his cheek. “Because somewhere out there is a girl who deserves you. I won’t let you throw that away for a girl you hate.” My voice was barely a whisper when I added, “Even if that girl is me.”

  “What do you want from me?” he pushed through gritted teeth. His frustration was palpable, spurring my own as the truth I hadn’t intended to tell recklessly spilled from my lips.

  “I want to be friends again.”

  I didn’t expect him to scoff at that, and it was hard pretending that my feelings weren’t hurt.

  “We were never friends. Right from the moment I first saw you, you were mine, and I was yours. You were just too blind and stubborn to see it.”

  I had a hard time swallowing the accusation he’d just shoved down my throat. The flickering flame I once held for Ever was nothing compared to the roaring torch I still carried for Jamie. He claimed I’d been the one blind, yet he couldn’t see that my heart had been just as open. I wanted to tell him so, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Jamie stared at me for a long time, the need in his eyes tripling my own until I foolishly believed that he’d give in to my plea. “You can have anything I own, baby, including my last name, but you can’t”—his eyes squeezed shut, and I could feel every ounce of the pain I’d caused—“you can’t have that.”

  I didn’t stop him when he stepped from the shower and fled. Instead, I stood there, letting the water pour over me and wishing he’d come back.

  Even knowing the truth, he still wasn’t able to forgive me. I didn’t want to understand his reasons, but I couldn’t help it if I tried.

  The damage I’d done to him was irrevocable. The pain too great to risk ever reliving it. He’d given me his heart, and I’d stomped all over it. Even if I could somehow repair that vital part, I knew Jamie’s heart would never beat the same again.

  Summer… Six Years Ago

  THE CHAIN POWERING MY HUFFY threatened to break as I pushed my bike past its limit. Today was the day Jamie left for home. Last night, I’d cried myself to sleep, and so I stupidly overslept.

  Nothing else mattered except getting to him before it was too late.

  We’d spent the summer riding bikes, climbing trees, swimming in the ocean, and writing under our favorite tree while Jamie struggled to remember the scales and chords his father had taught him. He was so adorable whenever he’d grow frustrated. I’d mentioned how I would like to write a song one day. He had practiced every day since when he’d barely shown interest before.

  I was thankful the gates were already open when I flew through them and up the long drive. There was a silver SUV with the back hatch wide open. I could see Jamie’s duffel and guitar already loaded inside.

  A few more minutes, and I would have missed him.

  My heart squeezed tightly at the thought, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Everything’s fine. You didn’t miss your chance.

  Rounding the SUV, I stopped when I saw Jamie standing by the front door, arguing with his parents. Throwing my bike down, I shouted his name.

  Jamie’s head swung in my direction, and his eyes bucked the moment he saw me standing there, breathing hard and dripping sweat all over the place. I could see the relief in his brown eyes even from here. I had the feeling he’d been refusing to leave until he got to see me. My heart swelled even as my knees trembled at the thought of not seeing him for an entire year.

  But what if he didn’t keep his promise to come back? What if I never saw him again?

  Jamie left the porch, and his father said something to him, which Jamie ig
nored. Pulling me behind one of the trees lining the drive for privacy, Jamie pressed something in my hand.

  When I opened my palm, I frowned in confusion. “Stamps? What are these for?”

  “For your letters when you write to me,” he demanded.

  I carefully thumbed the stack. There had to be hundreds. Enough for each day until he returned…

  “I’ll write every day,” I vowed.

  Gripping my chin—I loved it when he did that—he lifted my head, making me meet his serious gaze. “You swear?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.” I grinned, but he didn’t smile back. In fact, I’d never seen him look quite so serious before.

  Glancing at his parents and confirming they weren’t paying us any mind as they loaded the SUV, he kissed my lips. It was over far too quickly. Nothing like the lingering, experimental kisses we’d shared all summer long. “Tell me you’ll miss me.”

  I choked back a sob. “You know I will.”

  “I want to hear the words, Bee.”

  I didn’t hesitate to tell him what was in my heart. “I’ll miss you.”

  For a moment, I wondered if we were getting too intense too fast, but then he kissed me, and all those worries melted away. As he pulled away, I felt him press something else in my hand. Looking down, I saw his harmonica lying in my palm. He’d been teaching me how to play, but I didn’t understand why he was giving it to me when he loved it so much.

  “Keep this safe for me.”

  Mrs. Buchanan began calling Jamie’s name, so he reluctantly pulled away. Fresh tears started falling from my eyes. Summer had never seemed so far away.

  “Barbette…” Hearing my name, I was instantly alert. He never called me Barbette unless he was upset, serious, or mocking me. “I want you to do something else for me.”

  I was too busy looking around anxiously to see the storm brewing in his gaze. His parents were only a few feet away. Any moment now, we’d be caught. “What? Anything.”

  If I’d known he’d ask the impossible, I never would have spoken so confidently.

  “Stay away from Ever.”

  Present

  FORGIVE HER? BARBETTE REALLY EXPECTED me to forgive her? I wanted to punch the air and then the wall and maybe someone’s flesh until they bled. My teeth threatened to break as I replayed her words.

  Fuck, no. I couldn’t forgive her.

  I wasn’t sure who I was more upset with—her for asking or me for that split fucking second when I’d actually considered it. I seemed to be a glutton for punishment, and that wasn’t her fault. I should have never stuck my dick in her. I already knew I was going to do it again.

  I was in the kitchen looking for something to grub on when I heard a sound coming from the pantry. It was a butler’s pantry, so it was pretty large and even had a window. Thinking it might be a burglar, I found a weapon seconds before the door opened.

  “What the hell, man?” Ever said when he saw me wielding an iron skillet.

  I frowned as I lowered the pan. “What the fuck were you doing in the closet?”

  “I climbed through the window. The lock is still broken.”

  So that’s how Bee got in.

  I would never admit that it turned me on knowing she went through the trouble. She’d snuck into my room in tiny shorts with her ass hanging out and a thin top that could barely contain her nipples. I was starting to wonder if talking was really all that she’d come for.

  Ever looked me up and down. “What are you still doing up?”

  Turning my back on him, I tossed the pan on the counter. Since that day Ever found me questioning Four in her room, I had a hard time looking him in the eye. The fear that he knew everything wouldn’t allow me to. Ever had simply kicked me out of his girlfriend’s room, leaving me to wonder what he might have heard.

  “Same reason you are. Chasing after pussy.”

  “I find that hard to believe since you haven’t touched anyone in a while.”

  As if on cue, Bee stepped into the kitchen, and I smirked at the surprise on Ever’s face.

  His startled gaze traveled back and forth between us before settling on Bee. “Hey, Bee…what are you doing here?”

  “I…”

  While she struggled for words, I took the time to look her over. It pissed me off that she’d dressed. Did she think she was leaving?

  “I came to talk to Jamie,” she finally answered.

  Ever’s frown only deepened. “At two in the morning?”

  I stiffened, not liking the third degree he was giving her as if she still belonged to him. According to Bee, their relationship hadn’t been real, but I wasn’t sure what to believe.

  Barbette shifted, looked to me, and then shifted again. I didn’t say shit as I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. She was on her own.

  “It couldn’t wait,” she explained without explaining at all. I waggled my brows at her when she glanced at me. I was here whenever she needed me—morning, noon, or night.

  When she started for the pantry, my gaze narrowed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Home,” was all she said without looking back.

  She barely got her hand on the doorknob before I was pulling her back. “It’s two in the morning,” I reminded her. “How did you even get here?”

  She lifted her chin, and I braced for more of her bullshit. “My bike.”

  My fickle heart skipped a beat, hearing that she still had it. She was hardly without it when we were kids, and it made me wonder how much of her was still in there—trapped inside this cold, gorgeous shell.

  “So your plan is to ride in the open, down a dark and empty road at two in the morning? I think you’re smarter than that.”

  “Yeah, but you’re still an asshole.” She tried to pull away, but it got her nowhere except even closer to me. I could smell my shampoo in her damp hair and my body wash seeping from her warm skin. Pleasure rushed through me, knowing she still smelled like me even after washing. “Let me go!”

  “I can take you home,” Ever offered.

  I tossed him a nasty look over my shoulder, and he smiled. He wasn’t taking her anywhere. I’d flatten all four of his tires if I had to.

  “That would be great, thanks,” she graciously accepted.

  Her friendly tone baffled me. Ever had just broken their engagement in the most humiliating way. Why wasn’t she the one threatening to slit his tires? At that moment, something inside me begged for me to believe her. To believe that there had been nothing between them.

  Ignoring them both, I pulled Bee over to one of the stools and pushed her down on it. “Sorry, but that’s not an option, either.”

  Before I could say more, light flooded the kitchen. My head whipped toward the entrance, and instantly, my balls fought to climb back inside my body.

  My mother’s hair, a little darker than her brother’s light-brown locks, was in disarray from sleep. And despite her medium height and curvy frame, my father’s robe still managed to swallow her. Her hand remained on the light switch while her cobalt blue eyes, the exact shade as Uncle Thomas’s, narrowed to slits.

  “Step away from that girl, Jameson. Right now.”

  I didn’t move as I stared down my mom. It was the first time I ever considered openly defying her. The look she gave me in return told me she’d kick my ass all over this kitchen, so I took a step back. Dilwen Buchanan stepped forward, ready to scold, but then Bee turned her head, and the words fell right out of my mother’s mouth.

  “Barbette?”

  With a shy smile, Bee waved. “Hi, Mrs. Buchanan. It’s been a long time.”

  “Oh, my… it certainly has.” My mother rushed forward and stole her away from me, wrapping Bee up in her loving arms. For a few seconds, my mother squeezed Bee as if her life depended on it. “You are even more beautiful than I remember.”

  I was too captivated by the tear that had fallen from Bee’s eye to hear her response. My mother held on a little longer than necessary, so Bee
slyly wiped it away, the yearning I’d witnessed gone by the time my mother let her go.

  How long had it been since Bee felt a mother’s touch? Or any touch that was genuine and good and free of expectations?

  “What are you doing here at this late hour? Why aren’t you home in bed?”

  Bee ducked her head, unable to answer. Unfortunately for me, my mother caught on and gave me a withering look. I made a mental note to make myself scarce in the morning. Graduation wasn’t until tomorrow evening, so maybe by then, this would all be forgotten.

  I knew I couldn’t and wouldn’t be forgetting that look on Bee’s face, which was why, when my mother offered Bee the guest room that she’d been sleeping in herself, I didn’t argue. I was as quiet as a mouse even when she informed me that I’d be sleeping in the pool house for the rest of the night. I left without a single word spoken to either of them.

  I was sitting on the patio, glowering at the pool water twinkling in the moonlight when my mother appeared an hour later. I didn’t sit up when she sat down, but if she noticed, she thankfully didn’t speak on it.

  “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I don’t ever want to see you manhandling that girl or any girl ever again.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “What would you call forcing a girl to stay when she wants to go?”

  I pressed my lips together and wisely kept them shut. She wouldn’t want to hear my reasons. She’d only call them excuses. And shit, maybe they were.

  My mother lifted my chin, the way I’d seen my father do to her so many times, the way I had learned to do to Bee, and my troubled gaze met her understanding one. “That girl’s head might wander a thousand different paths, Jameson, but her heart… her heart isn’t so fickle. Barbette knows it as well as she knows you.”

  Normally, my mother was a wise woman, but for once, she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. “I guess it’s lucky for Bee that hers wasn’t the one broken.”

  “Oh, yes, it was,” she argued, making me grit my teeth. “You don’t fall apart from a simple hug unless you’ve been crushed too many times before.”