Marked (Playing Games Book 1)

by Rebecca Barber

  ***

  Forty minutes later, I was lying there in Tasha’s too-short bed, the thin blue sheet covering my bottom half, fighting sleep that was threatening to drag me under like it had already taken Tash. With her soft snores echoing off the walls, I took the opportunity to poke around her room.

  It was clean and simple. Cheap, flat pack furniture. Clothes tossed in various piles around the room. A pile of books buried the bedside table which had me surprised. It was such an eclectic collection. In the pile was everything from biographies of first ladies through to trashy romance novels we’d all heard about. Even if we tried to avoid the hype it was pretty much impossible. Her room revealed a lot about her, a lot that I wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to share with me. The comforter, now lying on the floor, was a dark purple with blue sheets and turquoise pillowcases. Then there was the mountain of mismatched, miscoloured throw pillows which I’d…thrown in my haste to get Tash beneath me. Somehow though, even with all the colours of the rainbow accounted for, she made it work.

  Rolling onto my side, I traced my finger up and down her bare arm. My stomach was growling and if I didn’t get some food soon, there was the very real possibility I’d turn into my very own version of the Hulk.

  “Hey. Tash. Wakey, wakey,” I cooed softly, trying not to startle her.

  With a weird mumble that I couldn’t make out, she rolled over, buried her head against my bicep and kept right on sleeping. The problem was now her very naked body was pressed up against mine and my cock was waking up, preparing to indulge in round three. Or was it round four? I’d lost count.

  “Someone’s awake,” Tasha murmured and I felt the vibrations against my skin as her thigh brushed against my now very wide awake, very enthusiastic cock.

  “You’re trouble.”

  “Yeah, and you love it.”

  As soon as the words slipped out, I felt her tense against me. Even though I knew exactly what she’d meant, dropping the ‘L’ word was obviously not planned. When she went to wriggle away from me, my arm around her waist tightened, holding her captive.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Um…errr… bathroom?” she garbled as she struggled to come up with a plausible excuse. It was a nice try. I’d give her credit for effort, but she was running.

  “Yeah, no you’re not,” I challenged her, dragging her back across the mattress and rolling her under me.

  She could’ve pushed me off. She could’ve told me to move. She could’ve stopped me at any time. I may have been bigger than her. I may have been stronger but neither of us were under any illusions here that she didn’t hold all the power. Instead, her hands found my hips as a sly, mischievous smirk crept across her face.

  “Well then… what am I going to do?” Lifting her hips, the heat of her teased my now-aching cock. But I couldn’t be that guy. The one who kept taking. We’d already played around for a while and as sexy as she looked right now, with her eyes hooded, tongue snaking out wetting her lips, and hair all mussed up, I knew she had to be sore and I wasn’t a complete arsehole.

  Before I could turn her down, though, something I didn’t want to do, ever, her stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting the silence.

  “Shit!” she swore as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “Someone’s hungry.”

  “Someone’s starving.”

  “I guess I should feed you then.”

  “I guess you probably should.”

  Dropping to the bed beside her, I trailed my fingers across her stomach, drawing slow lazy circles as I went, not missing the way her skin pebbled with goosebumps as I did. “Well, why don’t I go get us some food and you can clean up a bit,” I suggested.

  “Are you saying I’m a slob?” Even though her tone was teasing, I wasn’t a complete moron. Hidden underneath, and not hidden all that well, was genuine fear.

  “Not at all. I can just tell you’re uncomfortable with me being here in your home with things not how you’d like them. If I go find some food and give you a second to pick up all the underwear that’s dangling from the curtain rods and the shoes tucked under every chair you might actually start to relax.”

  Watching her bite down on her lip and not pouncing on her might have just been my greatest achievement. One I deserved a medal for.

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t be like that. Come on! Get up. Put some clothes on and I’ll go find some food.”

  “Would you happen to be finding Italian by any chance?”

  “I could be persuaded to go in search of pasta.”

  “And garlic bread?” Her eyes gave away her excitement. I didn’t care if I had to drive an hour each way to find pasta and garlic bread if it made her this happy. Damn I was almost tempted to find the nearest grocery store and make it from scratch.

  “Maybe. But first, you need to drag that sexy arse out of bed…”

  “Or…”

  The minx was taunting me. And from the look on her face, she was loving every single second of it.

  “Or…no garlic bread for you. I’ll go find a nice, healthy kale salad to enjoy.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  The look of absolute horror on her face was priceless. “Wanna try me?”

  Tash didn’t even answer. There was no smart-arse comeback. No sassy comments. Not even a look that could bring a man to his knees. Instead, she leapt from the bed, naked as the day she was born and sauntered across the room, exaggerating the sway in her hips. And damn me she wore it well.

  She then reached into the drawer and pulled out a tiny scrap of lace. “What’s that?” I asked, swallowing down the lump that had mysteriously formed in my throat.

  “When I have my garlic bread, you may find out.” With an evil wink she disappeared into the bathroom and a tortured groan ripped from my throat.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TASHA

  I was hiding in the bathroom like the chicken shit I was. I didn’t know what else to do. I was freaking the fuck out. I hated that Logan could read me so easily. He could tell how uncomfortable and caught off guard I was having him in my space. It’d taught me a very important lesson. Never, ever, ever leave your underwear lying around. You never know when someone is going to show up unexpected and see your bra hanging on the curtain rod or your granny panties piled on the couch.

  “I’m going to grab food. Won’t be long,” I heard Logan call out through the door.

  “Okay,” I replied pathetically as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

  A moment later, I heard the definitive click of the front door shutting before I let out the breath I was holding. Having no idea what I was doing, I stepped in the shower and hoped the steam would help clear my mind.

  When I stepped out and wrapped my pink towel around me, I swiped the condensation off the mirror and looked at the woman staring back at me. She was a mess and it wasn’t just my hair. I still had no idea what the hell I was doing. The shower hadn’t helped at all. And it was all Logan’s fault. He was too damn sexy for his own good. Any time I saw him, anytime I got near him, it seemed I became stupid. My brain was scrambled, my panties melted, and all traces of common sense evaporated.

  Needing help getting my shit together, I dashed out of the bathroom and grabbed my phone.

  Tasha: SOS

  There was a reason Giselle was my best friend. She barely missed a beat before replying.

  Giselle: What did you do this time? Or should I say who?

  Tasha: Bitch

  Giselle: What’s up buttercup?

  Tasha: I did something bad

  Giselle: ???

  Tasha: Logan’s here

  Giselle: And you’re messaging me… why?

  I didn’t have time to keep going around and around in circles. Logan would be back soon, and I needed advice before he got back. Giselle and I had proven time and time again that our texting could go all night. Instead I dialled her number.

  “Bitch!”

  “Can you bust my
arse some other time and just help me?”

  “Are you okay? You sound freaked out.”

  “That’s why I’m calling! I am freaked out.”

  “Why? What’s happened? What did the arsehat do? Need me to junk-punch him? ‘Cause I will. All you have to do is say the word.”

  “He’s out getting food,” I offered as a way of explanation.

  “What’s wrong with that? You like food.”

  “Giselle! He’s at my place.”

  “And? Come on, Tash. Fill in the blanks here. If you know he’s at your place, he obviously didn’t break in.”

  Knowing I had one chance to get this out before she started throwing more and more questions back at me, I let it all spill out. “We ran into each other this morning. We came back here to study. We ended up in bed. Now he’s gone to get food.”

  “What am I missing here? He’s fucked you, now he’s going to feed you.”

  “He saw my place.”

  “And?”

  “You know what it’s like. I’ve got stuff everywhere and…”

  “And let me guess. He saw your granny panties on the lounge and now is running for the hills?”

  “No!”

  “The sheets on your bed don’t match and now he thinks you’re weird?”

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  “He saw the pack of tampons on the bathroom sink and was so repulsed he crashed his very pretty face into the door frame as he tried to run out?”

  “No! Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Well what? We can keep playing this game all afternoon if you want, but I’m guessing lover boy is on his way back so… wanna get to the point?”

  I loved Giselle. I really did. But fuck me I needed a new best friend. This one was broken.

  “Why is he here? What am I doing? I shouldn’t be allowed near him.”

  “Why the hell not?” she countered, and I could just picture her revelling in my struggle.

  “Because he’s Logan-fucking-Oliver.”

  “So what? You’re Natasha-fucking-North.”

  “He’s a football god.”

  “And you’re a writer. Geez, Tash. We could do this all day. He’s obviously with you ‘cause he wants to be. Stop stressing about it. Tidy up that place. Hide the granny panties. Give yourself a bikini wax and enjoy the man.”

  “Enjoy the man?” I repeated. That was one thing I wasn’t questioning. Enjoying Logan. It was hard not to. Even when we were fully dressed, I had a good time. And when we weren’t… I wriggled in my chair just thinking about it.

  “Enjoy him. Stop thinking about all the what ifs. Stop worrying about the why and just ride that man like he’s the stallion I imagine he is. Tell me he’s a stallion.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “And does he know how to use it?”

  “We’re not having this conversation right now,” I declared.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll have this conversation tomorrow afternoon. Five o’clock. Utopia. I’ll buy the first round; you bring the dirty details.”

  “I’m not giving you details.”

  “Bullshit you’re not! You’re giving me every dirty detail on lover-boy Logan. Now, stop whining, put on your sexy panties I know you have stashed in the back of your drawer and go have some fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “Yes, fun. Stop thinking! Start fucking!”

  Maybe Giselle had a point. Maybe I was overthinking this. Fun. I could have fun. I could do fun. With a renewed sense of purpose, I agreed quickly and promised to meet her the next day. Not that she really gave me much of a choice. After hanging up, I dropped my towel and started running around my apartment like someone had lit my arse on fire.

  When a knock at the door sounded, I stubbed my toe on the bed frame as I scrambled to pull on my pink satin robe that hung on the back of my door. “Just a second!” I called out as my eyes watered and my toe throbbed.

  Hobbling down the hall, I yanked open the front door only to be met with the most delicious sight known to woman kind. Logan Oliver was standing there with two bags dangling from his fingertips and a smile on his face that made everything that shouldn’t tingle, tingle.

  “Are you going to let me in or just stand there and gawk?”

  Was staring at him an option? ‘Cause it most certainly wasn’t a bad option to have on the table.

  I must have taken too long to answer. “Earth to Natasha. Am I coming inside or am I sitting out here and eating this chicken alfredo with my fingers?”

  “Shit! Come in.”

  Logan moved inside and I held the top of my robe tight around my neck. Even though he’d seen me in a whole lot less, for some reason I felt entirely too exposed for my liking.

  “I’ll be back in a second,” I said as I shuffled towards the bedroom ignoring the pain in my foot.

  “Where are the plates?” he called out.

  “Above the sink.”

  Closing the bedroom door, I threw my robe on the bed and rooted around in my drawers looking for something to wear. All I wanted to do was tug on a pair of yoga pants and one of my threadbare t-shirts and flop on the couch. But with Logan on the other side of the door, I knew I couldn’t walk out looking homeless. Grabbing a cute green tank top, I pulled it on and then adjusted it over my boobs. When I was satisfied they weren’t going to spill out the top, I found a clean pair of three-quarter pants.

  “Come on, Tash! I’m starving.”

  “Coming!” I replied as I zipped up.

  A minute later, with my hair pulled back in a low ponytail, I wandered back out, following the scent of garlic and cream. “Smells good in here.”

  “You look good. Let’s eat.”

  After stuffing my face with way too much pasta and slices of cheesy garlic bread from my favourite little Italian place two suburbs over, I set my fork down and leaned back. I was so full all I could think about was falling into a carb coma for the next couple of hours.

  “Have you had enough?” he asked as he popped the last slice of bread in his mouth.

  “I think I’m going to explode.” Rubbing my belly, I considered popping the button on my pants to give myself some much-needed extra room.

  “Nope. No exploding. We need to get some of this studying done. That was the plan and the only thing I’ve studied this afternoon is your gorgeous body.”

  “I don’t remember you complaining too loudly about it,” I reminded him.

  “I definitely wasn’t complaining. And if I remember correctly, you were the one being rather loud. Screaming my name if I recall.”

  “Screaming your name?”

  “Harder, Logan. More, Logan. You’re a God, Logan.”

  “I do not sound like that!” I protested, feeling my cheeks heat. I might’ve been protesting loudly, but it was all bullshit. I knew that’s exactly what I sounded like. And while I wasn’t embarrassed in the moment, having it thrown back in my face wasn’t so great.

  Logan must’ve felt sorry for me because he dropped the subject and started clearing the plates. “Leave that. I’ll do it later.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep. We have to at least start to make a dent on this study. I’m not going to be the one responsible for you failing because I distracted you.”

  Setting the dirty dishes in the sink, he wiped his hands on a tea towel. I was surprised by how domestic he looked and even more shocked by how much I liked it. Grabbing the heavy textbook from the table and a highlighter, I settled into the couch and started trying to read. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Logan settled his black-rimmed glasses over his eyes and concentrated. Relief flooded me when he started to chew on the end of his pen. Seeing him do something so disgusting made him a little less perfect.

  A couple of hours later and thankfully I’d gotten through a huge chunk of what I needed to. I’d caught up on my reading, outlined one essay, finished off another – all it needed was one final polish, and had returned a bunch of emails.

&
nbsp; With pins and needles radiating down my leg, I stood up and wobbled. “Shit!”

  “You okay?” Logan’s head snapped up at my comment.

  “Yeah. Foot just fell asleep. I’d been sitting on it.”

  Stretching my arms up above my head as I rolled my neck back and forth, I didn’t miss the growl that sounded like it’d been ripped out of Logan’s chest. Looking over, I saw him slam his books closed and grab his bag.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked nervously.

  “Nothing.” He took his glasses off and set them down before rubbing his eyes. He looked so dishevelled and sexy all in the same moment. I had no idea how he did it. Look so effortlessly fuckable, but he’d managed to nail it.

  “Logan?”

  “It’s nothing. I’ve gotta head out, though. Need to get a gym session in before I crash.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I hated that I sounded disappointed.

  Within minutes he’d packed his stuff, given me a stiff hug and vanished out the door, leaving me standing there wondering what the hell just happened.

  Completely confused, I pushed my papers away, locked the front door and headed for the bathroom. A hot bubble bath and a glass of wine were calling my name. I was hoping the combination of bubbles and booze would help me figure out what I’d done wrong.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  LOGAN

  It’d been five days since I’d fled from Tasha’s apartment like someone was chasing me. Realising Tasha and I were more than friends had me bolting out the door not looking back. I wasn’t in the market for a relationship and I sure as shit couldn’t label it. I stood in the tunnel staring out at the MCG. It was my happy place. Usually anyway, today was different. Today I was distracted by thoughts of the wild woman who’d bewitched me. With the bounce only ten minutes away, we’d already been out and done the warmup, now I was bouncing from one foot to the other, my body pumping with adrenaline. This was my favourite part of the game; the few minutes before the siren. Looking out at the crowd all decked out in their team’s colours. I’ll admit, it was better if their colours matched my jersey, but the passion was infectious. When the team songs started playing and they stood from their seats and sang along, it was game time.