Play for Keeps

by Maggie Wells

  “Take a seat.” This time, Kate used her coach voice, and as if her good friend held a set of marionette strings, Millie found herself moving toward the chair Ty had vacated. “Avery had a lecture first thing this morning, so I promised her I’d get the scoop and report back while she’s doing office hours.”

  Affixing her patented camera-neutral expression, Millie let her bag drop to the floor beside her feet. “No big scoop. We had sex.” She treated her inquisitor to a lopsided smirk. “Bet you girls didn’t see that coming.”

  “Only thing that might have made the scene better would have been Ty in dress whites carrying you out of the bar.”

  Millie’s heart fluttered as she recalled exactly how giddy she’d been as she slipped her hand into his and hopped down off her bar stool. Determined to get a grip on herself and the spin, she rolled her eyes. “Let’s not over-romanticize this.”

  “Looked pretty damn romanticized all on its own.”

  “The ink isn’t even set on those divorce papers. The man wants a fling. I love being flung.” The pro that she was, she brushed the most intense sex of her life aside with a flick of her hand. “I’m hoping he’ll fling me again. Soon.”

  “I think you can bet on it.”

  “But it’s nothing more,” Millie asserted firmly. “Do not make this a big deal, or you’ll make us all uncomfortable.”

  “I love how you can turn pretty much anything around and point the finger at someone else.”

  She heard no rancor behind Kate’s words. If anything, she may have detected a note of admiration in the commentary. Millie took the compliment at face value. “Everyone has a talent,” Millie said, plastering on a smile.

  “If it makes you feel better to think you’re all cool with a casual affair, fine.” Kate looked straight at her, her expression intense and solemn. “But be sure you’re being honest with yourself from the get-go. Nothing more embarrassing than getting slam-dunked by an arrow-shooting cherub.”

  Without deigning to reply, Millie bent and scooped up her bag. As far as she was concerned, the conversation was over the second someone introduced naked angels into what was essentially a straightforward conversation. She told her best friend she and Ty were lovers. She’d made no allusions to anything more, nor did she indicate she had any such designs.

  Millie steeled herself against the temptation to buy in. She’d already spent half the night haunted by the guy. She wasn’t going to spend her waking hours mooning as well. If Kate wanted to get all touchy-feely about a night of screwing, that was her problem.

  “I’ll tell you what made me feel pretty damn fantastic,” Millie said as she rose. Holding up three fingers, she waggled them proudly. “Three orgasms.” Pausing inside the door, she looked back at Kate with a puzzled frown. “Or was it four?”

  “I know.” Kate grinned and kicked back in her chair, planting her grasshopper-green high-top sneaker on the corner of the desk and crossing one blindingly clunky foot over the other. “I had five this morning.”

  The boast halted Millie’s retreat faster than a battalion of G.I. Joes wielding assault rifles. Flaunting the advice given by the town’s best and only plastic surgeon, she frowned at her friend, trying to gauge her level of veracity. “Liar.”

  Kate raised her hands palm up. “My pants aren’t on fire, but that might be because I wasn’t wearing any at the time.”

  Ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain the woman was lying, Millie scoffed. “You are so full of crap.”

  Then Kate started ticking things off on her fingers. “Two in bed. Technically, one was before we went to sleep, but it was after midnight, so I’m counting it. One in the shower. Another while I was applying my lotion.” She paused, a dreamy smile ghosting across her face. “I swear, the man has a thing for the scent of lanolin.”

  Millie squeezed her eyes shut, torn between imagining Danny McMillan splashing about in a vat of moisturizer, and…not. “Stop.”

  “Then the toaster got jammed, and he had to use tools and electricity and strawberry jam, and, well, one thing led to another.”

  Flashbacks of Ty lounging against his kitchen counter dressed only in low-riding running pants flooded her brain. The scent of food and sex pervaded every last molecule of oxygen. The potent aftertaste of spicy shrimp and hot man had tingled on her tongue hours after he’d kissed her goodbye. “I hate you very much.”

  Kate laughed and dropped her feet to the floor. “No, you don’t. And no matter what you try to tell yourself, I also know you’re dying to spill all the gory details, Mil.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “But I can wait,” Kate continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  Millie stiffened. Did Kate know she’d echoed the exact sentiment Ty expressed the night before? Had she given something away? Was there a chink in her armor she hadn’t realized the rest of the world could see? Apparently, people figured if they waited long enough, she’d cave. Well, she’d prove them wrong on that point. She’d sleep in Ty’s bed when she was damn good and ready to sleep in his bed, and not one minute before. And she’d give Kate the gory details of her dealings with Coach Ransom when and if Millie thought she might have reason to do so.

  “Take a number,” Millie called over her shoulder, then took off down the hall at a pace brisk enough to make seasoned power walkers breathless.

  Let them wait. Jocks like Ty and Kate—Danny too—were so damn cocky. They played the glory sports. They were used to the scrutiny of rabid fans and waves of adulation hurtling toward them each time they tied their laces. They didn’t know about strength born from silence, the power one gathered from competing against only their personal best. They might be champions in those sports ruled by whistles and buzzers. They might excel in arenas where success was measured only in points. But they didn’t know true endurance came with only the sound of one’s own breathing.

  Millie had never jumped the starting gun in her life. If they thought they could get her to do so now, they were going to have a damn long wait.

  * * *

  She bought a pair of the prettiest, pasteliest panties she could find—with a split crotch.

  Millie also had an assortment of low-cut demi bras in a rainbow of sherbets, matching lace boy shorts because she refused to wear a string of floss up her ass, and one almost puritanically demure satin teddy in her shopping bag. Of course, she chose a retina-searing shade of streetwalker red for the last one. She figured she needed at least a splash of red if she wanted to ignite sparks in the bedroom.

  While she was out shopping for this recent uptick in her sex life, Millie also made a stop at the one and only adult store in town. As far as sex shops went, Fantasia’s was pretty tame. The storefront was a tiny space in an ancient strip mall. The neon-red lips and a sign warning the underage away were the only hint of what lay behind the tinted glass.

  Millie had been patronizing the shop for years. The way she figured, any woman over thirty and without a regular partner in her life had better be well versed in seeing to her own pleasure. She considered the judicious use of her vibrator a simple matter of public safety.

  “Hey, Stase,” she called as the bell above the door heralded her arrival.

  Anastasia Wallace popped up from behind one of the locked display cases, a giant glass dildo in hand. “Millie! Where’ve you been?” Vivid blue eyes narrowed into laser beams. “You haven’t been ordering online, have you?”

  Millie snorted and shook her head. “Never. You know I like to touch the merchandise.” Tilting her chin up, she slid her glasses down from her head and placed them on the end of her nose. “What’s new?”

  “Got a whole batch of these in from this guy living up in the Poconos.” She beamed at the dong approvingly. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

  Nodding, Millie admired the craftsmanship, even though they both knew she wasn’t about to buy one. She had a strict poli
cy against putting anything that could shatter in her snatch. Anastasia swore up and down such a thing couldn’t happen, but Millie didn’t see the point in tempting fate. “Lovely, but I really stopped by to pick up some lube.”

  “Got a shipment of flavoreds in the other day.”

  Millie smirked, gave some serious thought to buying a tube of vanilla to go with the nonhooker lingerie. “Plain is fine.”

  “You’re in a rut,” Anastasia announced as she unlocked a display cabinet. “When was the last time you tried something new?”

  Tipping her head like a spaniel, Millie gave the older woman her sweetest smile. “Last night, and his flavor was all natural.”

  Anastasia barked a laugh and plucked a bottle of Millie’s preferred brand from the case. “Good for you!” She eyed the array of supposedly homeopathic stimulants arrayed near the cash register. “Older or younger?”

  “Younger,” Millie replied, her smile a shade more smug. “Not by much, but yeah, younger.”

  Anastasia chuckled again and nodded appreciatively. “Maybe two bottles of lube, then?”

  “Always the upsell.” Millie tsked but took a spin around the tiny store. There wasn’t much to see. A wall of toys, a few racks of the kind of lingerie Ty Ransom didn’t find appealing, and a sagging shelf stocked with collections of erotica.

  She knew Anastasia struggled to make ends meet even in the low-rent space she leased and wanted to buy something more, but Ty’s commentary on the lingerie tempered her willingness to test his boundaries. Letting her gaze rove over the selection once more, she backtracked to the shelf of books. What could a naughty bedtime story or two hurt? If Ty didn’t like them, well, she couldn’t think of a reason why she shouldn’t have a nice collection for her own edification.

  “What’s good to read?” she asked, jerking her chin toward the bookshelf.

  “Ooh! Got a new one.” Anastasia left the lube next to the register, then made her way toward the books. “Not the raunchiest stuff I’ve ever read, but good.” She wrinkled her nose as she extracted a slim volume. “Sometimes I get a little tired of the really kinky stuff. This one is different. Very sexy but more on the sensuous end of the scale. Almost hedonistic, which is probably why I liked the stories so much. Goes well with a big glass of wine.”

  “Sold!” Millie raised a fist and lowered it as if she were banging a gavel. “Ring it up. I have to get home. Got mind games to play with a certain young whippersnapper.”

  “That’s my girl,” Anastasia crowed and started punching prices into her ancient cash register.

  Lipstick-red bag in hand, Millie waved goodbye a few minutes later. The clock on her dashboard told her the men’s basketball team had likely wrapped up practice for the night. She pulled her phone from her purse and checked the notifications. Two missed calls and a text from Ty that simply read, Answer your phone.

  “Oopsie,” she singsonged as she switched on her ringer. Grinning at her screen, she made no move to swipe the redial option. “Did you call and I didn’t answer? Poor baby.”

  The pad of her finger barely grazed the power button, and the phone went dark. Feeling inordinately pleased with herself and the productive evening, she dropped her cell back into her bag and twisted the key in the ignition. She’d barely left the lot before the blare of her ringtone amplified by hands-free technology overpowered the soulful ballad on the radio.

  A glance at the dashboard display reinforced Ty’s persistence. She pressed the button on her steering wheel to ignore the call, then started to hum, picking up the tune as the stereo came to life again. Two blocks down, a pulsing buzz indicated an incoming text. Her smile widened, but she didn’t bother to look until she’d parked the car in the narrow garage sandwiched between her bungalow and the next. For a guy who like to brag on his ability to wait, the man needed to learn a lesson in patience.

  Her cell buzzed again as she dropped her shopping bags in the hall. More amused than annoyed by his persistence, she looped the strap of her bag over the back of a kitchen chair and sashayed to the fridge. She uncapped and took a deep drink from a bottle of water and swayed rhythmically from side to side, keeping time with the song playing on the radio.

  Letting her eyes close, she pictured Ty as he’d appeared in Kate’s office that morning—relaxed, gorgeous, of course, and…happy. Until he’d smiled up at her, she hadn’t realized she’d never really seen him so kicked back. The night before, he’d been intense. Focused. Determined. As a matter of fact, those were the exact words she might have chosen to describe him in any situation.

  She was starting to truly know him.

  Know him well enough to understand that his ease was a momentary thing. The man was a born competitor. He wanted her attention, but she wasn’t about to run to him whenever he called.

  Her pulse jumped at the thought, but her mind was racing about ten steps ahead. She’d have to watch herself. Falling for the guy would be too damn easy.

  Though she hadn’t planned on a simple one-night stand, carrying on with Ty for any extended period of time was out of the question. This was why she wasn’t answering her phone. If she did, he’d want to see her. And if he wanted to see her, she’d say yes, because she wanted to see him every bit as badly. Wanted to be with him enough to stay the night in his bed or even wedge him into hers, though his feet would poke through the iron bedstead she’d unearthed at a flea market years before.

  She could have him here. All she had to do was hit the redial and say, “Come over,” and he’d come. She knew he would. And so would she. Over and over again. And before she knew what was happening, they’d blow through his box of condoms. Too fast. Far too fast. And then their affair would be over.

  Water bottle clutched to her chest, Millie wandered out of the kitchen, her mind clicking through scenarios and discarding them with every step. She needed to come up with an alternative plan. One that would involve a minimum of condom usage but still leave all barriers to emotional entanglement in place.

  The shopping bags on the floor caught her eye, and a plan started to form. She snatched the bags from the floor and started toward her bedroom. Millie smiled as she dumped the lot onto her bed and yanked the book of erotica out of the sack. Kicking the rest of her purchases aside, she propped herself against the headboard and started to skim. His stint in Reno proved a safe distance could make a world of difference. With the right material, they could both be in the same town, enjoy a highly satisfactory sexual relationship without any messy entanglements, and hopefully circumvent a run on the latex industry. She read until she hit a passage that made her cross one leg over the other, thumbed the button to recall the last number, and lifted the phone to her ear.

  He answered, and her mouth curved into an involuntary smile. At the same time, her heart started to race, but her blood slowed, arousal flowing like warm honey through her veins. “Hello, Ty. Were you looking for me?”

  His chuckle unleashed a ripple of gooseflesh. “I figured you’d get back to me sooner or later.”

  Sliding down into her pillows, she set the book aside and cradled the phone. “You settled in for the night?”

  “I’m at your beck and call.”

  Millie grinned, knowing if she let him in the door, they’d be going toe-to-toe for control. “Get comfortable, big guy. I’m going to read you a bedtime story.”

  Chapter 13

  Ty’s laughter trailed off as the silence on Millie’s end drew taut. She was waiting for his response, but he had no idea how he was supposed to react. Every nerve ending in his body went on high alert when the phone rang. But her mention of a bedtime story made the jumpy little buggers stand down.

  Ty eyed the glass he’d pulled off a shelf and the decanter of scotch he’d unstoppered. A bedtime story? What about some bed time? Was she saying she wouldn’t see him? The thought was enough to spur him into lifting the cut-glass bottle and tipping a couple of sl
ugs into the glass.

  Had he spent the whole day drowning in nothing but wishful thinking?

  Given how things went the night before, he figured she might be a little wary, but he never anticipated not seeing her. His ego wouldn’t let him believe she didn’t want to see him. She was into him. He knew that as sure as he knew the pattern of his hook shot.

  She’d said she was going lingerie shopping. He might not be any expert on female behavior, but he’d been married long enough to know some women kept a whole hierarchy of bras and panties stashed away. Certain bits and pieces for everyday wear, another whole category dedicated to special circumstances like jogging or strapless dresses, and finally, the ones designed to make someone sit up and howl.

  Millie wanted him. He was sure she did. The problem was, she seemed to want him only on her terms. Too bad he had no earthly idea what those terms were. She was using her no-nonsense voice. The one she used with nagging reporters and other pesky annoyances. It galled him to hear it. The last thing he wanted was to be another necessary evil in her world.

  “Did I lose you?” she asked, her voice sultry and teasing.

  Perhaps he was overthinking things. She might not be rejecting him. This tease about a bedtime story might be a ploy to get the upper hand. Which he’d give her gladly, as long as he could get his hands on her. He weighed and discarded a couple of possible moves she might be setting up and chose the obvious option. Home-court advantage. She probably wanted him to come over to her place. “How about I come over and get settled in?”

  “Not tonight.”

  Her answer was short and delivered with a quiet firmness that marked the decision as final. But he wasn’t one to give up without hurling one last miracle shot at the goal. “Why not? I could pick up ice cream. We could eat it in bed.”

  Millie hummed appreciatively. “Ooh, ice cream. Tempting, but no. Not tonight,” she repeated.

  This time, he caught a ragged edge of impatience in her voice, so he eased up. Taking the tumbler of scotch from the bar, he crossed the room to the oversized chair positioned directly in front of the television. The screen glowed in the darkened room. He dropped into the seat like his ass was weighted down with concrete and took a gulp of his drink.