RICH PLAYER (The Dirty Thirty Pledge Book 3)

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RICH PLAYER (The Dirty Thirty Pledge Book 3) Page 8

by Penny Wylder

“Oh I guessed,” he says. “I thought we might make it to a bed first.”

  “Beds are overrated.” He raises an eyebrow and I smirk. “We didn’t need a bed in your office. Or here.”

  “We won’t need a bed in my hot tub either,” he says.

  I’ve been wanting to see him wet ever since he suggested the shower at the hotel. I got a glimpse this afternoon, but it wasn’t enough. “No,” I say. “I don’t think we will.”

  11

  Glenn

  I slip into the hot tub with a sigh and turn so that I can watch Diamond climb in behind me. I allow myself to take in the full glory of her naked body, perfect gorgeous legs, shaved pussy, toned stomach, breasts that belong to a fucking angel, and those eyes and lips that make me hard just looking at them because my body remembers how they feel on my balls and cock.

  Plus, she’s an enigma. I like the way she’s so straightforward with what she wants, and yet she can turn on a dime and be shy. The raw chemistry between us is like a live wire, sparking. That quick fuck in the living room isn’t going to be our last. I already know that.

  She’s staring at me, eyes still glazed with pleasure, and this time she doesn’t sit away from me. She comes and straddles my lap again, slipping my cock into her pussy raw and without question. I freeze, before she smiles. “You’re not going to come in me,” she says. “You like not coming, don’t you?”

  “I like the way it feels after holding back.”

  “Then hold back,” she says, whispering on my lips before our tongues tangle. Easy for her to say. She hasn’t felt the way her pussy is a goddamn miracle.

  There’s a battle going on inside me. I shouldn’t be here with Diamond. I should be back at First Shot, finding someone new to fuck for today’s day in the challenge. Unless of course I decide that the challenge hasn’t started yet. Just like I don’t understand why someone would lock themselves down to only one woman, it also doesn’t make sense to me why someone would walk away from sex that’s this good. Which is why I asked her why she was here. We live so close, we could fuck regularly, if that’s what she wants.

  “So,” I say, “you don’t live in Nashville.”

  Diamond shakes her head. “No, I was there for some work. A couple of days.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  Her eyes are filled with amusement. “Is it?”

  I thrust my hips up, wiping the amusement off her eyes and replacing it with need. “It’s interesting that we’re close enough to run into each other occasionally.”

  “I think we could probably run into each other a lot, don’t you?” she asks, voice strained. She’s trying to keep a straight face, and unable to when I grind against her clit. “Our towns are close.”

  I smile. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

  “That means I’ll have to give you my phone number,” she says, rocking her hips. “Unless you want to leave it up to chance.”

  “I do not want that,” I say. “But I do want something else.” I thrust up again simply for the pleasure of hearing her gasp. An idea is forming in my mind, and I want to see if she’ll go for it. Because if she does, with the chemistry that we have, things will be nuclear. Absolutely fucking nuclear.

  “What’s that?”

  I stand in the water, taking her with me so she’s clinging to me and floating. I like the way she looks half submerged in the water, breasts floating to the top like sweet offerings just for me. And when I look down further, I can see the lips of her pussy stretched around my cock. My raw cock. Just that sight makes me twice as hard, and it feels suddenly hard to speak.

  “I want to take you upstairs, lay you down on my bed, and fuck you until we’re both screaming,” I say.

  She grins. “Is that all? Sign me up.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “I want us to do that, and then I want both of us to have nothing for the next week.”

  Diamond goes still in the water. “What do you mean?”

  “You remember what I did to you in Nashville? Brought you close over and over again?”

  She glares at me. “You mean the torture? Yeah, I remember.”

  Leaning down to meet her skin, I lick my way across her collar bone. “Have you ever brought yourself close for a long time and then finally given in? Your orgasms will light up the fucking sky.”

  Diamond sighs, and she squeezes down on my cock, trying to distract me. “I’ve gone a week without masturbating before.”

  “I didn’t say there would be any of that,” I give her a smile that’s wicked. “I intend to see you every day. To fuck you, have my tongue in that pretty pink cunt of yours and then give you nothing.”

  She can pretend all she wants that she hates the idea, but the way her body tenses, eyes flutter closed, and her body is gripping my cock tells me otherwise. “And I’ll have your mouth on me too, because I love the feeling of your lips sucking me.”

  “Why would I do this?” she asks, as I rock my hips into her, gently fucking, speeding up so that she’s distracted. I am too, the raw friction of skin on skin is enough to drive me mad.

  “Because when it’s been a week, we get to fuck like animals, and the orgasms you’ll have will be the best you’ve ever had in your life.”

  I thrust harder, and she whimpers. “That’s a big promise. I’ve had some pretty good orgasms.”

  “It’ll be an adventure,” I say. I’m not completely sure why I’m so drawn to this idea of holding back with her, of drawing it out. But I suspect it’s the chemistry. The fire between us is unreal, and it’s enough to make me want to savor it. To do something different. I’ve challenged myself with this during dry spells and it was good enough. It’s going to be so much harder with her, and so much more gratifying. “It’ll be fun.”

  She smirks at me, and I can see that she’s already made her decision, but she’s going to toy with me some more. I’m okay with that. I like the game. “I don’t think fun is going to be the right word.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “The correct word is exquisite.”

  “I think you’re crazy,” she says.

  I’m really fucking her now, the water swirling around us with the movement. “That’s entirely possible.”

  “You’d better give me enough orgasms to last the week then, Glenn…?” She asks.

  “Kidman.” I say, scowling down and walking towards the edge of the hot tub.

  “Diamond Collins. It’s nice to meet you.”

  A deep laugh rolls up from my stomach, and I pull out of her so that she can climb out of the water, but my cock already misses her warmth. “It’s nice to meet you too. Now get upstairs and into my bed, because we’ve a lot of fucking to do.”

  12

  Diamond

  As I get out of the car, I wince. I’m sore. Granted, it’s a good sore. A fucking amazing sore, but I might have to do some stretches so that my clients don’t ask what’s wrong with me.

  It would probably be considered unprofessional to tell my clients today that I got dicked so hard last night that I’m literally bow-legged.

  Or maybe not. I’ve got some amazing clients. But until I have my own salon, I’ve got to play it safe. Once I’m in my own space, we can talk about my sex life all we want.

  I can’t actually believe I agreed to what Glenn suggested. I must either be an idiot or his cock is just that good. I think it’s the second one, because I came so many times I felt like I was drunk when we couldn’t go anymore. Frankly, it might be good to have a break for a week.

  The small voice in my head starts laughing. Like I’m not going to be dying for it by the time tomorrow rolls around. Liz is already inside. We met in beauty school and became best friends so fast it made my head spin, but we’ve never looked back. When I told her I was moving here, she applied and got a position at the same salon, and she’ll be coming with me when I open mine. She’s an absolute genius with hair, and she’s got a client list that’s just as good as mine.

  “Girl,” she says, lo
unging in her chair since the store isn’t open quite yet. “I am so hung over. That bartender kept giving me free shots.”

  I grin at her. “At least you didn’t have to pay for any of it. How did you get home?”

  “He called me a cab and followed in my car.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Did he stay over?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I wish. He said I was too drunk.”

  “Then it’s probably true.”

  “Yeah.” She sighs. “And how about you? Was it everything and more?”

  I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “It was good.”

  “You fucking liar,” she stands, grinning. “I know that face, you had the time of your life and you don’t want to share details.”

  “I never want to share details!”

  “But you’re going to, right?” Liz puts her hands on my shoulders. “Please, Di. I’m dying here. Before anyone else gets here.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine.” I tell her about the living room and the hot tub and how he took me upstairs and buried his face between my legs until I’d had three orgasms, and how we fucked in every position imaginable until passing out. And how he drove me home, and kissed me before we exchanged numbers and he left.

  “Exchanged numbers?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Neither of us realized that we lived so close to each other, and we have great sex. At least for now, neither of us wants to stop that.”

  “God, I’m so jealous,” she says. “You’re fucking a hot millionaire, and it was all by chance!” I start to laugh, and just then the owner of the shop comes in, so we go about our routines to get our stations ready. I’m not about to share that with her, especially when hopefully I’ll be leaving soon.

  I get caught up in the ebb and flow of the day and before I know it, it’s five o’clock and I’m stretching and putting away my tools for the day. My body has loosened up from all the standing, but I’m still sore. Still deliciously reminded of last night.

  Glenn is a bit of a mystery still. He’s told me almost nothing about himself, except the little tidbit that he was poor when he was young. He’s so different from any other guy I’ve slept with. And miles away from Alex. Maybe that’s what makes him so appealing. But something about him makes me want to know more.

  I say my goodbyes to Liz and head out to my car when I hear a voice. “Fancy running into you here.”

  Turning, Glenn is leaning against the wall of the building, and the smile that pops onto my face is completely genuine. It’s like my body just associates him with pleasure. “What are you doing here? I never told you where I worked.”

  “I googled you,” he says.

  My smile falters. “Oh.” If he googled me, then he knows who my family is. That’s going to be fun.

  He studies my face. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “Now is about the time where most people who find about my family ask when they can meet my parents so they can get in on all that Tennessee socialite action.”

  Glenn makes a face. “Sorry to disappoint. I was just hoping to take you to dinner.”

  “Dinner?” At the mention of food, my stomach growls. “That sounds good to me.”

  “What’s good around here? I’m not exactly familiar with the town.”

  “Come on,” I say. “Follow me and I’ll show you the best place in town.”

  When I get out of the car in front of a building that looks like it’s falling apart, I watch Glenn’s face when he gets out of his car. It’s all skepticism. “This is a restaurant?”

  “Sure is,” I say. “Trust me, this isn’t where I kill you and hide your body. They just spend the money on the inside of the place.”

  He follows me inside, and I savor the look on his face. On the look of anyone’s face who walks into Jane’s for the first time. Inside, this broken down building is a picturesque Italian restaurant with an absolutely fantastic view of the river that runs through both Green Hills and Eastborough.

  The tables are small and intimate, all the furniture exquisitely built. Everything inside is so perfect that you could be walking into a five-star restaurant in Nashville. But the exterior keeps it a secret that’s just for this town and those lucky enough to know about it.

  Which now Glenn does.

  “See?”

  He nods. “I never would have called that.”

  “It’s the best.”

  It’s not super busy tonight, and a hostess shows us to a table near the back with a view. I’ve been here so many times that I know exactly what I’m getting. Their spaghetti bolognese is the best I’ve ever tasted, and I don’t care if it’s a simple dish. Things can be simple and amazing.

  A memory flashes in my mind of when Alex and I came here with my parents. I ordered the spaghetti, and they laughed. They have amazing things here like salmon stuffed tortellini and you’re going to order spaghetti?

  I shake my head to clear the memory, but the shame lingers in the blush on my skin. I should have known then that something was wrong with a man who would take my parents side about something as simple as pasta.

  “Are you okay?” Glenn has reached out, his hand over mine on the table. The sudden contact brings me back to the present.

  I swallow and paste on a smile. “Yeah.”

  “Good,” he grins, “because I need you to tell me what’s good here.”

  “Uhh…” I hesitate. He won’t be the same. He won’t shame me for liking what I like. Not after what I’ve asked him to do to me and with me. But my stomach still clenches as I speak. “My favorite is the spaghetti bolognese. I think it’s one of the best things there is. But you probably don’t want to get something that simple.”

  He shrugs, “Why not? Spaghetti sounds good to me.” And when the waiter appears at our table he smoothly orders us white wine and two orders of the spaghetti bolognese, and I’m left staring at him, a warm glow filling my chest.

  “So,” he says, when he has the glass of wine in his hand, “you’re a hairdresser?”

  “Yeah. That and make-up.”

  He doesn’t look like he’s humoring. He looks like he’s actually interested. “So why were you in Nashville?”

  “Touring broadway show,” I say. “I’m good at character make-up. I’ve done work with other shows, so they called me up.”

  Glenn’s eyebrows raise into his hairline. “That’s amazing.”

  “Thanks,” I say, cursing the fact that I blush so easily and he has a knack for making me do it. “I’m actually trying to open my own salon here in Eastborough.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “There’s this gorgeous little building downtown that’s being sold. I’m just securing the money to get it. Hopefully any day now.”

  “Congratulations.” He sounds like he means it. The word doesn’t sound like a sarcastic comment the way it came from my family when I told them. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it still does. Glenn raises his wine. “To new business endeavors.”

  I touch my glass to his and take a sip. “You could probably teach me a thing or two.”

  He shakes his head. “The only thing I can teach you is to listen to what people want, and fill the need. Other than that, the extent of my lesson would be to get very lucky and to hire the right people.”

  “That’s all it takes to be a millionaire?”

  He smirks, but he doesn’t deny it. “That’s all it takes.”

  “Is this what you wanted though? When you started First Shot is this what you imagined?”

  “No, not at all. I wanted a bar because I like people. Talking to people and giving them a place to be comfortable, and sometimes vulnerable. The fact that it took off is…amazing. But it’s not what I imagined.”

  “Something more like this, right?” I gesture to the restaurant around us. “A great local secret where you can be yourself, but it’s still your turf.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  I tilt my head to look at him. The sun is starting it
s slow descent, and the way it’s hitting his face only highlights his beauty. In another life, he could have been a model. Hell, he’s only thirty. He still could be. “You could still do that. All that money? You could disappear and start again a hundred times if you wanted to.”

  Glenn smiles a little wistfully. “But it wouldn’t be home.”

  Those words strike me in my heart. I know that feeling. Even though there’s so many painful memories here, it’s mine. My place. “I understand that.”

  “I know you do,” he says. “Otherwise you would be trying to open your business closer to Nashville.”

  I stare at him, stunned. “What do you mean?”

  “There are plenty of people who do hair and make-up, and I’m sure there are plenty of them in a city famous for music and performances. The fact that you get called in from halfway across the state speaks to your talent. And if you wanted to start your business there, I’m sure your career would skyrocket. But your home is here. It’s where you want to be. It’s the same reason I started First Shot in Green Hills and not a bigger city.”

  “You grew up there?” He nods, and I go on. “It’s weird that we never ran into each other, even in high school. Rivalries and stuff.”

  His face falls a little and he covers it quickly. “It’s not that strange. Your family and mine ran in very different circles.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say immediately. He’d said he wasn’t well off as a kid, and I hadn’t even thought about that.

  He looks up, but he doesn’t look angry or embarrassed. “It’s nothing to be sorry about,” he says. “It’s just the reality of it.”

  I nod, and take a sip of my wine.

  Our pasta arrives, and Glenn groans in appreciation when he tries the spaghetti. “You were fucking right,” he says. “That is one of the best pasta dishes I’ve ever had.”

  “I know,” I say. “There’s nothing like it.”

  While we eat, we reminisce a little about where we were during shared events in the lives of our town. Glenn tells me a little more about how he started First Shot, and I tell him more about my plans for my building downtown.

 

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