Her Playboy Crush

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘Pol...fuck, yeah...’

  He didn’t say anything else as she sucked him into her mouth, swirling her tongue round and round. Her hand clutched at the base of his cock, just above his balls, gently squeezing as her head bobbed. Sucking him in. Easing him out. Again and again and again, until his hips were thrusting upwards and his hand rested on her head.

  She didn’t need the guidance. She didn’t need anything but him filling her mouth, making her feel powerful and in control. And when he tightened a second before coming on a guttural groan, she knew she’d never forget this moment.

  Blowjobs had never been her favourite thing, but with Ryder it gave her a sense of power, like she could do anything and be anyone. With him. Only with him...

  The realisation had her easing away to slide a tissue out of her pocket and dab at her mouth while he zipped himself back in.

  She wasn’t this woman.

  She didn’t have sex up against a wall or sex on a desk in a sleazy motel, or four times in a night, or give head in a storage room at work.

  But with Ryder, she was. What would happen when he left?

  Would she revert to being absorbed in a world of figures, relying on statistics to get her through every day?

  Would she start wearing sensible cotton underwear again?

  Would no guy she dated ever measure up to the one guy who’d always held a piece of her heart, even if he didn’t know it?

  ‘Hey.’ He reached out, placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Everything.

  So she reached for a monstrous lie and summoned her best acting skills by forcing the mother of all smiles.

  ‘Nothing. You’ve just made one of my fantasies come true and I’m a little overwhelmed.’

  ‘You and me both, babe.’

  He hadn’t bought her excuse; she could see it in the knowing glint in his eyes. But thankfully he let it go.

  ‘My turn to return the favour—’

  ‘I can’t.’ She made a grand show of looking at her watch. ‘I have a meeting with Andrina in three minutes and she hates to be kept waiting.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll see you later tonight?’

  She hesitated and saw his jaw clench.

  ‘What happened to the uncomplicated sex, Pol? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.’

  Admiring his bluntness, she nodded. ‘I know. But I’m a chicken—’

  ‘The Polly I know is the bravest, smartest woman on the planet and she doesn’t shy away from the tough stuff.’ He leaned down to brush a soft kiss on her lips. ‘We can do this. It’s not complicated.’

  Polly had no idea what he was referring to and was too terrified of her out-of-control feelings to ask.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT DIDN’T SURPRISE Ryder when Polly had to work late that night. After blowing his mind by blowing him in that storeroom at Sizzle she’d withdrawn from him again, in the same way she had after he’d spent the night at her place.

  It confused the hell out of him.

  He hadn’t meant to open up to her about the accident but he’d known he had to give her something otherwise she’d keep pushing. Surprisingly, she hadn’t, and instead had tried to distract him in the best way possible.

  She might’ve had a meeting with Andrina but then why start something up in that storeroom? Unless revealing hidden truths about the accident had made her feel sorry for him? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted or needed was a pity fuck.

  But he knew her better than that and deep down he recognised that wasn’t what that blowjob had been about. Polly wanted him as much as he wanted her and for her to do something so brazen at work, she must’ve got off on the illicit thrill as much as he had.

  He wished he could’ve returned the favour. Instead, he’d left satisfied and she’d gone off to her meeting with her cheeks flushed and a determined gleam in her eyes. He hoped she’d given Andrina hell.

  He loved her contrasts: studious and fastidious at work, with a hidden impish side that came out to play in a big way when he least expected it. Every time they’d hooked up she’d been an uninhibited and generous lover, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  He knew his shitty grandparents had driven out all hints of emotion from him, obliterating any chance for him to make a deeper connection beyond the physical with a woman because he’d never felt like he deserved happiness. And with a woman like Polly, he’d never be good enough, which meant he had no right thinking about her beyond the sex.

  There was only one way to get him out of this funk: spend time with Archie. Though he knew his best mate; he’d want to go out and get drunk, and he wouldn’t put it past Arch to test him by trying to pick up women. Yeah, that would be just like his mate, to see if Ryder would do the dirty on his sister.

  Then again, hanging out with Archie would guarantee he could take his mind off Polly, because no way in hell would Arch want to talk about his sister.

  Before he could second-guess his decision, he fired off a text. A response pinged back in under a minute and Ryder was outside Archie’s door in another twenty with a sixpack of his mate’s favourite boutique beer under one arm and a bag of Thai takeaway in the other.

  Paint fumes seeped out from the semi-open door so he entered, calling out, ‘Hey, bozo, I brought refreshments.’

  ‘In the kitchen,’ came the response, and he strode down the hallway, admiring the new walls and floors.

  Archie had accomplished a lot since he’d first walked in here over a week ago to find Polly with her cute ass in the air as she sanded. Arch had always been a good handyman so it was no surprise he’d done a building apprenticeship when he’d finished school, and it looked like this labour of love would turn out beautifully. Archie had created a real home and it made him wonder if there was a woman in the picture he hadn’t heard about.

  The old Arch wouldn’t have kept stuff like that from him, but he’d stayed away for five years and despite their regular phone calls and emails, Ryder knew things had changed between them. It was his fault, not Arch’s, and it rammed home how he’d unintentionally ostracised the only people to ever really care about him.

  Though Polly had welcomed him back with open arms and while on the surface Arch appeared the same, tonight would be a good opportunity for the two of them to reconnect.

  He strode into the kitchen to find Archie descending a ladder, covered in paint splatters and dust. But his wide grin said it all: he was loving every minute of the renovations.

  ‘You look like shit,’ Ryder said, dumping the Thai takeaway and beers on the table.

  ‘We can’t all be pretty boys like you.’ Archie poked at the bag and sniffed. ‘But considering you brought Thai you’re forgiven for being a dickhead.’

  ‘Takes one to know one.’ Ryder slipped two bottles from the cardboard holder and held one out to him. ‘Beer?’

  ‘Love one, but give me two secs to get cleaned up.’

  Ryder nodded, popped the top off his beer and took a deep slug. The brew had a pungent yeasty flavour and it catapulted him straight back to the first time he’d tasted it in Archie’s backyard, when the two of them had finished year eleven. Archie had been working part time at the local hardware store for a fortnight and though Ryder could’ve afforded to buy them alcohol any time they wanted, he knew what it meant to his friend to be able to pay for the beers with his first wage.

  They’d sculled five beers each and ended up spewing into his grandmother’s precious rose bushes over the back fence; no way would he desecrate Barbara Scanlon’s trees. With his head spinning and his stomach rolling, he’d lain next to Archie on the grass, staring up at the cloudless sky, laughing as they’d tried to outdo each other with outlandish proclamations.

  ‘I’m going to scale the Eiffel Tower barefoot,’ had been one of his.

  ‘I�
�m going to find the biggest opal in Coober Pedy and make a fortune,’ had been Archie’s.

  ‘I’m going to date three Danish supermodels.’ Lofty aspirations indeed; he’d been lucky enough to date one early last year.

  ‘I’m going to construct an eco-friendly house that’s going to win architectural awards worldwide.’ Archie had always had a thing for building.

  And so it went on, until they’d ended up dozing beneath the trees, to be woken by a disapproving but forgiving Babs who’d instructed them to throw the beer bottles in the recycling bin and never drink again until they turned eighteen.

  Interestingly, they’d both kept their promise. That was how much he’d respected Babs and cherished Archie’s friendship. So why had he let the friendship lapse? He’d been too scared to make himself vulnerable to Archie by sharing what he’d been through and how screwed up he was because of it? Because articulating what had happened with that accident made him relive it all over again? Because he couldn’t stand the inevitable pity?

  Whatever his rationale, he intended to start making amends now. Tonight would be all about Arch and what was driving his mate to remodel this place into a home.

  Archie padded into the kitchen barefoot and reached for the beer. He’d had a quick shower and changed into clean shorts and a T-shirt, but paint spatters still dotted his hair like confetti.

  ‘Man, I needed this.’ He twisted the top off, raised the beer to his lips, and drank the entire bottle in a few gulps.

  ‘Thirsty, much?’

  Archie flipped him the finger and reached for another. ‘Been working like a dog all day and didn’t stop for lunch.’

  ‘You’ll end up spewing, you moron.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice, Mum.’ He tipped the bottle in his direction before taking another few slugs.

  ‘Speaking of that, how’s Babs?’

  A strange flicker of emotion crossed Archie’s face. ‘She’s good. Travelling around northern Queensland at the moment.’

  ‘Alone?’

  Archie shrugged. ‘Who knows? She’s always been secretive about boyfriends and hasn’t mentioned anyone this time around.’

  Ryder sensed he’d touched a nerve but having Archie mention significant others gave him the perfect segue. ‘What about you? Seeing anyone special?’

  ‘Not really.’

  Archie’s response came too quickly and his gaze darted away.

  ‘Come on, mate, I may not have been around for a while but I can still read you like a book. What’s her name?’

  ‘There’s nobody,’ he said, but his goofy grin gave him away. ‘You’ll be the second to know, after her, when there’s anything to tell.’

  ‘Is that what the renovations are about?’ Ryder gestured around the kitchen. ‘What you’ve done here looks amazing. You’ve created a real home.’

  A tell-tale blush crept into Archie’s cheeks. ‘Thanks, mate. Maybe it’s turning thirty soon that got me thinking, who knows? But I realised last year I’ve had this place for a while now and it looked like a dump, so what woman’s going to take me seriously if I’m still living like I don’t give a shit about anything?’

  Ryder grinned and clinked his beer bottle against Archie’s. ‘Wow, my boy’s all grown up.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Archie said, returning his grin. ‘What about you? Are you treating my sister right?’

  Ryder had expected Archie to grill him at some point during the evening. Not that he’d tell him much but he owed the guy something.

  ‘Polly’s amazing.’

  ‘Yeah, but you still haven’t answered my question.’

  Ryder huffed out a breath. ‘Already told you, boofhead, I won’t do anything to hurt her. So, yeah, I’m treating her right.’

  But was he? If she kept pushing him away after they’d been intimate then her actions signalled a problem, and rather than confronting it he was avoiding her by hanging out with her brother. Dumbass.

  ‘She called me, asking if I knew about the accident.’ Archie pinned him with an accusatory glare. ‘Gotta tell you, mate, I felt like an idiot not knowing what the hell she was talking about beyond the fact that there was one.’

  Ryder grimaced and swiped a hand over his face. ‘I didn’t keep it from you deliberately. I just didn’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Yet we talk about everything else?’ Archie shook his head. ‘It sounded pretty bad.’

  ‘It was.’

  Two short syllables that hid a world of pain and sadness and guilt. He knew Archie, knew his friend wouldn’t push him to reveal anything he didn’t want to. But he’d come here tonight deciding to be a better friend and that meant trusting Archie with the truth.

  ‘I should’ve been in the car when three of my friends got killed. I swapped out at the last minute. So I got to witness them die...’ Emotion tightened his throat and he cleared it before continuing. ‘It mucked me up.’ He made circles at his temples. ‘Up here. Until a shrink helped me. You’d already told me to finish my degree, and that guy pretty much inspired me, so that’s why I finished my degree and set about helping others.’

  Archie seemed to deflate before his eyes. ‘That’s some serious shit you dealt with on your own.’ He jabbed a finger at him. ‘You should’ve told me.’

  ‘I should’ve done a lot of things, but I guess we’re always wiser in hindsight.’

  Archie paused. ‘Does Polly know all this?’

  He nodded. ‘I told her.’

  Archie eyed him with respect. ‘Wow, so it’s serious between you two.’

  Ryder bit back his knee-jerk response of, Not really.

  Because he couldn’t have feelings for Polly. He’d only end up hurting her if he did and she didn’t deserve that. Viewing Polly as anything more than a lover was far scarier than dealing with any residual guilt from the accident.

  ‘She’s great,’ he said, desperate for a change of subject. ‘But I’m not going to discuss her with you, so why don’t we eat?’

  Archie’s gaze flicked between him and the takeaway containers, and thankfully his hunger won out.

  ‘Sure, I’ll have a double helping of everything.’

  However, as Archie got plates and cutlery and they started dishing out the food, Ryder’s appetite vanished. He didn’t like what Archie had implied, that sharing the truth about his accident with Polly meant things were serious between them. They weren’t. They couldn’t be. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Sex, he could do. Anything remotely involving feelings, not a chance in hell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE LAST THING Ryder had said to Polly in the storeroom at work was that they could do this, whatever that meant. He’d accused her of being a chicken, which was true, and it had sparked something within her. Not about discussing their relationship per se, but with her life in general.

  What was she doing, sucking up to Andrina, taking her crap, when she could be proving her worth by doing what she’d wanted all along, wowing her with figures?

  She’d depended on her brain her entire life—making smart decisions, using logic, calculating probabilities to ensure the best outcomes.

  With the fundraiser prep running smoothly and little left to do, Polly had time on her hands and rather than pick up the slack from some other lazy-ass co-worker she could use it wisely and prepare to wow Andrina. She’d been up most of the night, nailing a presentation that would hopefully secure her the job she actually wanted.

  It helped to stay focussed and keep her mind off Ryder and his ‘it’s not complicated’ throwaway remark. Maybe not for him, but she was in danger of creating a giant complication if she ever told him the truth.

  He’d surprised her with his honesty in revealing more about the accident. It made her wonder if they’d moved past screwing for screwing’s sake.

  She had known the danger all along, the inevitab
ility considering their longstanding friendship, but she was fast losing hope that she could walk away from this at the end and revert to just being friends.

  She’d fake it, for Archie’s sake, because she’d never put her brother in the position of having to choose between his sister and his best mate. But she knew that every time she saw Ryder for the rest of her life she’d remember their brief fling and wish things could’ve been different.

  He would obviously stay for the fundraiser next Saturday night and Archie’s thirtieth on the Sunday, but would he leave straight after? It made sense, considering his nomadic lifestyle of the last decade, but in revealing so much of himself to her she’d wondered if he’d changed.

  Would he stop running once he’d dealt with his guilt? Would he confront his past now that he’d returned home? She figured much of his avoidance of his home city had to do with his grandmother and as far as she knew he hadn’t visited her yet, which spoke volumes. And while she didn’t want to interfere, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a gentle nudge in that direction?

  Then again, who was she to talk? She hadn’t spoken to her mum in weeks, not since she’d landed the job at Sizzle. Her initial excitement at working for the premier fashion house in Sydney had given way to wariness when it came to telling her mother. Would she appreciate the importance of what this job meant to her daughter? Would she downplay it, expecting Polly not to last beyond her trial? Or would she reiterate an old insult, that a girl like Polly couldn’t possibly fit into the world of high fashion?

  Barbara had dropped that particular doozy on her the night of her twenty-first, when Polly had been high on champagne fizz and had articulated her dream of mixing statistics with fashion to improve companies’ bottom lines. Her mum had laughed at her, sent a pointed look at her plain black dress, and said she’d never fit into that kind of world.

  Polly had been gutted.

  And more determined than ever to prove her mother wrong, using her mum’s low opinion of her to drive her harder to achieve what she wanted.

  Starting now.