Playing with Desire (The Players Club Book 6)

by Erika Wilde

  Rick nodded, realizing such a huge decision like this one would take time and space, and it was a choice that only Declan could make for himself.

  Reaching their house, Rick pulled into the garage, and before Declan could get out of the vehicle, he stopped him.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” Rick hated that he was about to add to Declan’s turmoil. “About Summer.”

  There was no mistaking the flash of emotion in Declan’s eyes, the concern and something more deeply sentimental that Rick had never seen before, which told him that his stepbrother still had strong feelings for Summer.

  “Is she okay?”

  He chose his words carefully. “Yes, she’s fine. Her landlord didn’t renew her lease, and she needed a place to live until she found another apartment. I offered her the spare bedroom.”

  “So she’s here?” he asked, exhilaration mingling with apprehension. “Now?”

  Rick nodded, swallowing around the huge knot gathering in his throat. “And there’s something else . . .”

  The hesitant note in his voice had Declan’s features going stone cold with intuition. “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “I haven’t touched her since she moved in over a week ago.” It was the truth, but there was no denying the guilt currently laying heavily on his chest.

  Declan narrowed his gaze. “But?”

  “We had one night together at The Players Club.” As soon as the words came out of Rick’s mouth, Declan’s nostrils flared with fury. “She went there on her own and was going to hook up with some guy she didn’t know, and I intercepted.”

  Declan’s stare was hot enough to burn through Rick. “Fucker,” he muttered.

  “I suppose I am, but don’t you dare walk into that house and give Summer any shit about it,” Rick said, his sole concern to protect her from Declan’s wrath, which he had no right to display. “You’re the one who made the decision to end things. You’re the one who told her to move on with her life, and she’s tried. When I saw her at The Players Club, I didn’t want her to find another man to play with, and it’s not like you and I haven’t shared her before.”

  Declan’s mouth twisted sardonically. “Clearly, you want her for yourself.”

  “That night, I did,” he said honestly. “But it’s not me she wants. She and I might have been intimate, but I figure it was better if it was with someone she trusted and already knew, rather than some other man coming along and sweeping her off her feet.”

  Declan’s hands clenched against his thighs, this time for another reason, as if he was holding back the urge to deck Rick. “So, am I supposed to thank you for fucking her?”

  His stepbrother’s crass attitude sparked Rick’s own ire. “No. You need to realize that you can’t have it both ways—wanting Summer to have a life without you but being a possessive asshole if she tries to make a life for herself. You need to pull your head out of your ass and realize that maybe you made a fucking mistake by letting her go and walking away. She wouldn’t have been at The Players Club had you not told her to move on with her life. You and I introduced her to that D/s lifestyle, and it’s clearly something she needs.”

  “And the fucking hits keep coming,” Declan sneered.

  This time when his stepbrother opened the passenger-side door to get out, Rick let him go, praying that Declan’s initial face-to-face with Summer went better than the heated conversation they’d just had.

  As soon as Summer heard the outside garage door roll open, she jumped up from where she’d been sitting on the couch, a mix of excitement and trepidation running through her veins. Excitement because, after nearly five months apart, she was dying to see Declan again, to witness for herself that he was fine, healthy, and whole after taking a bullet. And trepidation because she knew Rick intended to tell Declan about what had happened between the two of them at The Players Club, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

  And the longer it took for the two men to enter the house, the more her unease grew. She paced the length of the living room anxiously, and when Declan finally walked in, followed by Rick a few feet behind him, her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, a wealth of emotion overwhelming her. She might have tried to bury her feelings for him, but there was no doubt that she still loved this man, even if she had no clue how he felt about her.

  He stopped abruptly just inside of the living room, holding his duffle bag, his body rigid and animosity flaring in the depths of his eyes before it was snuffed out by a forced indifference. While his aloof attitude hurt, Summer didn’t let his cool disposition deter her. She was so overjoyed to see that he was okay, at least physically, that she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.

  She hugged him despite his stiff stance, because she needed this tangible proof that he was alive and really, truly okay. She breathed in his scent, let his warmth suffuse every part of her being, and there was nothing she could do to stop the instantaneous desire that made itself known and told her just how much she belonged to him. He placed his hand lightly on her back, and she reveled in that brief touch, because it was more than she’d expected from Declan right now.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

  When she stepped back and looked up at his gorgeous face, the guarded look slashing across his features made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, considering Rick had no doubt given him a lot to digest. And even though she hated how withdrawn he was, Summer knew she had to respect the time he needed to process the news he’d just been delivered. She could only hope that the anger would dissipate so the two of them could talk at some point, too.

  “Would you like some dinner?” she asked instead, hopefully appealing to his appetite to alleviate some of the tension between all three of them. “I can heat up some meatloaf and potatoes.”

  “I’m good,” he said, shifting on his feet. “In fact, I’m tired from traveling all day, so I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep.”

  He walked away, and there was no denying the ache in her chest as she watched him disappear into his room and close the door behind him. She glanced back at Rick, who was still there, and he must have seen the devastation written across her face, because his expression softened with compassion.

  “Give him time and space,” he said gently. “Declan’s been through a lot, having been shot and having to deal with some important decisions he needs to make . . . and us.”

  She shook her head. “There is no us.”

  A half smile quirked his lips. “I know that, and you know that. But I was honest with him about our night at the club, and he didn’t take it well.”

  Frustration tightened her throat. On one hand, she understood that Declan might be shocked by the news. But on the other, he had no right to be angry with her for something he’d encouraged. “Does he expect me to remain a nun?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her tone.

  Rick braced his hands on his hips. “Probably. But that’s his issue to work through, not yours.”

  She exhaled a deep breath in hopes of releasing the myriad of emotions she’d put herself through the past hour. “How long is he home for?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a few weeks.” Rick ran a hand through his hair, making the thick strands stand on end. “He told me on the way home that the bullet that went through his shoulder caused some permanent nerve damage. It was bad enough that he was relieved of the Special Forces unit he’s been a part of for years. Now, he’s looking at accepting an administrative job with the military or taking a medical discharge and early retirement.”

  She sucked in a breath, shock rippling through her. “Oh, wow. I can’t imagine how difficult of a decision that has to be for him.”

  “Exactly.” Rick’s tone was grim. “So, yeah, he’s got a lot on his plate right now, and I think we just need to give him space. I know Declan well enough that I’m certain he’ll eventually calm down and come around, and the two of you can discuss everythi
ng.”

  She smiled at that. Hopefully, with her being in the house, he wouldn’t be able to avoid her for long.

  Declan stepped into the shower and under the hot spray of water, trying to deal with the range of emotions he’d been dealt in the past hour. It was one thing for him to struggle to come to terms with having his career ripped out from under him and another to learn that Rick and Summer had been intimate in the time he’d been gone.

  Was he royally pissed off? Yeah. Did he have a right to be bitter and angry? His lips pursed as that answer took him a bit longer to acknowledge, and even though he wanted to say no, he wasn’t ready to admit that he’d been responsible for putting Summer in that position with his own actions five months ago.

  But Rick . . . another surge of resentment gripped him, because he’d asked his stepbrother to watch over her, not fuck her, even though a part of him knew that Rick had feelings for Summer.

  But this evening, walking into the house and seeing Summer again, and the hopeful way she’d looked at him, had made his heart pound radically in his chest. Fuck, he’d missed her so much. The affectionate, caring way she’d hugged him had provided a brief reprieve from his problems, until he’d squashed her attempt to extend some kind of olive branch with his surly attitude.

  Nice going, asshole.

  Groaning at the confusion swirling inside him, he passed his soapy hand across his chest, then slid his fingers along the puckered skin at his right shoulder where he’d been shot. Such a small scar that had cost him so fucking much.

  And it was his own damn fault. While out on a mission, he’d been scoping out a terrorist compound with his unit, with long hours passing with no movement. It wasn’t the first time he’d filled the weariness and boredom with thoughts of Summer and what he’d given up. What he’d possibly lost forever. He’d never been tempted to break his own rules about women and commitment while in the military until Summer, and that knowledge had thrown him for a loop.

  He’d considered calling her, just to check on Summer and hear her voice. Just to see if he’d fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to him and no longer stood a chance. And it was during those meandering thoughts out in the hot sun that all hell had broken loose. The next thing he knew, grenades were landing nearby in ground-shaking explosions, shots were being fired in rapid succession from the compound, and while scrambling for complete cover, Declan had felt the burning, ripping of flesh at his shoulder—and had ignored the searing pain in order to return fire and protect his team any way he could.

  During those chaotic minutes, the leader of the terrorist group had been whisked away, and Declan’s unit had been forced to retreat. On the drive back to base with a few of the men trying to nurse their own injuries, Declan had felt consumed with guilt, because he’d been distracted and should have seen the attack coming. He’d been so damn grateful that everyone in his unit had gotten out alive and with minimal bodily damage.

  And as for the wound Declan had sustained, it hadn’t been life-threatening. Just career ending. A devastating blow to someone who’d felt so invincible out there on various assignments.

  Having been released from the Special Forces, he felt stripped of what he believed was his purpose in life. Lost and adrift and not sure what his future looked like. Furious at himself for possibly jeopardizing the mission. And now, angry at what he’d come home to with Rick and Summer.

  He closed his eyes and hung his head beneath the shower spray, unsure what decision to make when he was so barraged with a dozen different emotions. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to deal with either Summer or Rick, and he wasn’t sure when he would be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three days later, Summer had to give Declan credit for avoiding her and Rick as much as possible. In the mornings when she left for the shop, he was already gone, though she had no idea where. She could only assume that he came home during the day while she and Rick were at work, but he never showed up at dinnertime. It was usually a few hours later, and when he walked into the house, he went directly to his room, though there was no mistaking the brooding air about him, tinged with an underlying anger that seemed to be simmering beneath the surface.

  The few times that their paths had crossed, he didn’t acknowledge her, and her heart was silently breaking. And the tension between him and Rick was nearly palpable, and she felt responsible for that rift, too. Rick assured her that Declan would come around, and she had to trust what he said, considering they’d grown up together and Rick knew him best.

  So, she kept to her normal routine. Working. Cooking dinner. Searching for an apartment in the evenings. She had a new lead she intended to follow up on tomorrow, and that, at least, gave her something to look forward to.

  Today, though, when she arrived at the house after work, with a bag of groceries in her arms to make dinner, she heard two male voices shouting back and forth—though she couldn’t make out what they were bellowing about. The argument wasn’t in the house, and with a concerned frown, she followed the sound through the kitchen, where she dropped off the food items on the counter, then walked to the sliding door that led to the backyard. She looked out the window, surprised to see Rick and Declan facing each other, standing on the concrete pad near the pool, both of their expressions pissed off as she caught the tail end of their yelling match.

  Clearly, the tension between stepbrothers had finally come to a head.

  “I asked you to watch Summer, not fuck her!” Declan hollered, both his hands curled into fists at his sides, his face ruddy from the rage that seemed to be spilling from him.

  “Stop being an asshole,” Rick shot back in a voice loud enough she was certain the neighbors could hear. “You’re just being pissy because she didn’t wait for you. And why should she? You fucking broke her heart and gave her nothing to hope for!”

  With a low, feral growl and with eyes filled with fury, Declan abruptly lunged at Rick, knocking him to the ground on his back. She gasped as fists started flying from both men while they rolled around on the concrete, their clenched hands connecting with jaws, cheeks, temples as their tempers exploded. The fight was down and dirty, with both holding their own, but they were beating each other to a pulp in the process, with no sign of stopping.

  She stared in shock as she watched them unleash all the hostility and aggression that had been brewing between them over the past few days. While a part of her had the thought that a fistfight was probably the brothers’ way of dealing with their differences and built-up antagonism, the rational part of her brain told her that if she didn’t stop them, they were going to kill each other. Over her, apparently, and God, she’d never wanted to come between that sibling bond.

  She rushed outside and onto the deck that overlooked the pool area, feeling a sense of panic as she saw blood smeared on Declan’s face. “Stop!” she screamed, her high-pitched voice distraught. “Both of you!”

  It was like she didn’t exist. The sounds of fists hitting flesh rent the air along with grunts of pain and a shirt ripping as Rick grabbed the collar of Declan’s cotton tee to get the upper hand to flip him onto his back.

  They were like wild animals, and Summer knew she’d only get hurt herself if she got close enough to try to pry them apart. She glanced around the area, and seeing a garden hose, she ran toward it, turned on the water as high and hard as it would go, then pointed the full blast toward the two men’s heads, soaking them while continuing to yell at them to stop.

  The water obscured their vision, and they had no choice but to finally break apart. As soon as Rick rolled off of Declan, she tossed down the hose. They both lay on their backs, breathing heavily and trying to gain their bearings after so many hits to the face, stomach, and who knew where else.

  She marched down to where they were, so damn furious at each of them. “You both are idiots!”

  Despite the scratches and cuts on his face and what appeared to be a split and swollen lip, Rick smirked at her as he got to his feet, his wet sh
irt clinging to his chest. Declan did the same while glaring at his stepbrother, a bit of fire still left in his gaze as he swiped at the blood dripping down from a laceration near his brow.

  “Are you finished getting all that bottled-up anger and resentment out of your systems?” she demanded, looking to each man as she jammed her hands on her hips.

  “Maybe,” Rick said, and judging by the thread of humor in his voice, he wasn’t at all upset by their tussle. It was as if he’d known it was going to happen, that releasing all the tension between him his stepbrother would eventually come down to a physical altercation. “I’ll let Declan decide if he feels the need to go another round, just to make sure he’s gotten everything off his chest.”

  Panicked, she immediately stepped between the two men, holding her arms out for fear that they would start all over again. “No more, please.”

  Rick arched a brow at Declan, acceding to him.

  “We’re done,” he said gruffly.

  Relieved by his assent, Summer dropped her hands back down to her sides. As she eyed Declan, she was shocked to see all the stress and strain from the past few days leave his body. His rigid shoulders visibly relaxed, and the animosity gradually vanished, too, as if he was so tired of carrying around so many burdens over the past few days. Not just coping with the issue of her and Rick but also the decisions weighing heavily on him about his military career.

  Her lips pursed as she took in their bruising faces and even the scratches on their knuckles. “You’re both cut and bleeding.”

  “We’re fine,” Rick said casually, as if it was no big deal.

  “Go sit at the kitchen table.” She pointed toward the house, her tone brooking no further argument. “I’ll decide if you two are fine or need any stitches.” She didn’t think the latter was the case, but she wanted to clean up their battle wounds to be sure neither of them needed to make a trip to urgent care.