Playing with Desire (The Players Club Book 6)

by Erika Wilde

  “Jesus,” Declan muttered as he and Rick started toward the back deck. “When did she get so fucking bossy?”

  Rick laughed. “I’m not sure, but I kind of like all that confidence and sass.”

  Summer was surprised when Declan grunted in what she could only guess was an agreement.

  Once they were all inside the kitchen, she pointed to the table. “Sit down. Both of you. I’ll be right back.”

  Shockingly, they obeyed, remaining seated and quiet—but no longer hostile toward one another—until she returned with the first-aid kit she’d seen in the spare bathroom. She started with Rick, wiping the blood from the split lip, scratched cheek, and scraped jaw with a peroxide pad. The cut at his mouth wasn’t as bad as she initially thought, but since it was in an awkward place, she couldn’t cover the lesion with a Band-Aid, so she dabbed a bit of healing ointment on it for now to make sure it didn’t get infected.

  “Either of you feel like you might have any broken ribs?” she asked, having witnessed a few blows to their midsections during their altercation.

  “No, they’re just sore,” Rick replied.

  “Same,” Declan agreed.

  “You’re both going to have bruises along with all those cuts and scrapes on your face,” she said, turning her attention to Declan, who was leaning back in his chair, his damp T-shirt detailing his defined chest and strong, muscled abs.

  The urge to slip her hand beneath the hem to touch all that hard, heated flesh was strong, and she had to force her gaze back up to his face. Ignoring the awareness humming through her body, she stepped between his spread legs and examined his various lacerations with a light touch of the antiseptic pad.

  “It won’t be the first time we’ve walked around looking like we were in a cage fight,” Rick joked from behind her.

  Summer pursed her lips and shook her head as she put ointment, then a butterfly Band-Aid on the laceration slashing across Declan’s brow. “There are better and more nonviolent ways to settle differences.”

  “But they aren’t quite as satisfying as planting our fists into each other’s faces.”

  “It’s true,” Declan said, his voice a low, husky rumble, making Summer realize how close her breasts were to his eye level. “Seeing his swollen lip and that bruise showing up right below his eye makes me very satisfied.”

  There were no apologies for what they’d just done to one another, but clearly all that aggression had served its purpose to release all that built-up testosterone between them. They were both calmer now, less uptight—especially Declan—and she hoped the truce lasted.

  Rick grew more serious. “Now that Declan and I have cleared the air, you both need to figure out where things stand between the two of you.”

  Summer put the first-aid supplies back into the box they came in, unsure what there was to figure out when it came to her and Declan. It wasn’t as though Declan had returned having changed his mind about wanting her, and that knowledge hurt to the depths of her soul. He’d returned because he was being forced to make a decision about his career and future, which, unfortunately, had nothing to do with her.

  “We can’t all keep coexisting like this,” Rick added.

  She exhaled a deep breath and absently smoothed a palm down the front of her dress. “I agree, and hopefully I’ll be out of the house soon. I have an appointment with a leasing agent for an available apartment tomorrow during my lunch hour. If I like the place, I’ll put down a deposit and schedule to move in this weekend.”

  Even though the tension had eased, Summer still felt responsible for pushing both men to the breaking point over her, and she gave them each a quick, meaningful look. “All this anger and hostility has to stop,” she said, hearing the plea in her own voice. “I don’t want to be the one to come between the two of you. You’re all each other has as family, and you two maintaining your relationship is more important than fighting over me.”

  “You won’t come between us,” Rick promised as he slowly stood up, then moved behind Summer.

  Confusion wove through her as Rick put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that she and Declan were face-to-face and only a foot apart, with him still sitting in his chair. Declan looked equally wary, both of them unsure of what his stepbrother was attempting to do.

  “I know where you stand with me,” Rick murmured, leaning in close so his lips were near her ear, his voice making her shiver. “You’ve made your feelings for each of us very clear, and I respect your choice. I think Declan needs to realize and accept where you stand with him.”

  Despite anything that might have happened with Rick, her choice was, and always would be, Declan. She just wasn’t sure if those soul-deep feelings were reciprocated by the man in front of her.

  Summer sucked in a startled breath as Rick unzipped her dress, then slid his hands inside the fabric to push it off her shoulders. She quickly pressed her hands to her chest, catching the garment before it could fall to the ground. “What are you doing?” she asked, slightly panicked, while Declan narrowed his gaze at Rick in a way that made her worry another brawl was about to ensue.

  “I’m giving you to who you belong to,” Rick said simply. “I’m letting Declan know exactly where you stand with him, and it’s up to him if he’s going to take everything you’re offering.”

  She swallowed hard, knowing she couldn’t give Declan her body without her heart and love being a part of the package, too. In front of her, she dared to meet Declan’s gaze. His jaw was clenched tight, not with anger but an undeniable desire that made her sex throb and ache for him in response. She was relieved that he at least still wanted her physically.

  “If this isn’t what you want, use your safe word,” Rick said in a more demanding tone. “Otherwise, let go of your dress and show Declan what’s his.”

  This time, there was no hesitation as she dropped her arms back to her sides, allowing Rick to finish pushing the garment down the length of her body until it pooled around her feet. Then he unclipped her lacy bra from behind, and she let that fall, too, baring her full breasts to Declan’s dark, heated gaze.

  He groaned deep in his throat, his fingers curling into fists on his jean-clad thighs as he held on to his self-control and restraint.

  “She’s yours,” Rick said to Declan, moving away from Summer. “She always was. Don’t be a fucking idiot a second time around.”

  Then Rick walked out of the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone, making it clear that he was bowing out. Relinquishing her to Declan. But Summer’s biggest fear was that he’d reject everything she was offering.

  Since Declan hadn’t moved, Summer took a tentative step forward, situating herself in the wide gap between his spread thighs. Gently, she glided her fingers along his jaw so as not to hurt him more than he already was. “Do you want me to stay or go?” Her voice trembled with how exposed she was feeling emotionally.

  “You’re staying right here with me,” he said in that possessive way she loved. “Where you belong.”

  She wasn’t sure if they were just words spoken in the heat of the moment, but they made her heart soar, anyway. She watched him pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside, then he sat up straight on the chair and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. Without warning, he latched on to one of her nipples, pulling the sensitive tip hard and deep into his mouth. Moaning softly, she threaded her fingers though his hair, her back arching as he bit one achingly tight nipple, then the other. He soothed the sting with a sensual swirl of his soft tongue before doing it all over again.

  He splayed his big hands against her back, stroking his palms all the way up her body, then sliding them down the slope of her spine until he reached the curve of her ass. He pushed his hands into the waistband of her panties, the only thing left she was wearing, and yanked them down her legs. She kicked her dress and underwear aside and gasped as two long fingers delved into her drenched pussy, then pushed all the way into her channel.

  This ti
me it was he who groaned, a low, growling sound that reverberated against the nipple between his lips and arrowed its way down to her pulsing sex. His thumb brushed across her clit, and her hips rocked shamelessly toward his hand, seeking the orgasm that was already gathering force between her legs.

  He stopped before the climax hit, leaving her right on the edge as he removed his fingers from her weeping slit and his lips from her sensitive breasts. Standing up from his chair, he backed her against the edge of the table, then grasped her waist and lifted her so she was sitting on the surface, knees dangling over the sides.

  “Here’s the deal, kitten,” he said, shoving her legs indecently wide apart with his hands and looking his fill of her with heated eyes that promised mind-shattering pleasure. “The first time you come, it’s going to be with my mouth eating your pussy. The second time, when I’m buried balls deep inside you. Got it?”

  She could only manage a nod, his adamant demand making her wetter, hotter, more restless and needy.

  “Lie back,” he ordered, and while she obeyed and reclined on the table, he arranged her legs over his shoulders and began kissing and biting his way up to her pussy. By the time he reached the apex, she was panting eagerly, her fingers fisting in his hair to guide him to the spot that ached and pulsed the most.

  He grabbed her wrists and pulled both her arms down to her sides, keeping them pinned there to force her to take whatever he gave her, at his own pace. “You’re not in charge,” he said, glancing up the length of her body, his wet lips curved into a dark, wicked grin. “You’ll come when I’m ready to let you.”

  He dipped his head and leisurely licked through her slit, his sinful tongue lapping her up and his lips pulling on her clit until she was overwhelmed with excruciating need. He did it again and again, increasing the pleasure until she was writhing against his ravenous mouth and desperate to come.

  “More,” she begged, moving her hips to chase his fluttering tongue as the biggest ache sizzled and smoldered inside her.

  He teased her a bit longer, scraping his teeth across that nerve-laden spot and using his mouth and tongue to spark a brighter flare of urgency throughout her body, until she couldn’t stop the orgasm crashing over her. A hoarse cry ripped from her throat, and her thighs tightened against his head as violent sensations raged havoc through her in a seemingly endless spasm of ecstasy.

  As she sagged back against the table, trying to catch her breath, he straightened and quickly tore open the front of his jeans, pushing them down just enough to release his thick, straining shaft. Lust, along with his own hunger, was etched across his features as he dragged the head of his cock through her slick folds, then aligned himself at her entrance, pushing in just a few inches, making them both moan with pleasure as her body welcomed him home.

  He gritted his teeth as he positioned her legs over his arms to keep her open so he could watch as her pussy enveloped every inch of his dick, awakening new nerve endings inside her along the way. His big body shuddered as he gradually filled her, until he was seated so blissfully deep, claiming her completely.

  “You feel so fucking good around my cock,” he rasped, seemingly trying to hang on to his own sanity the best he could. “So tight and hot, and as soon as I start to move, I’m not going to be able to hold back.”

  “I don’t want you to.” She wanted every single thing he could give her.

  “It’s going to be a hard, deep fuck,” he warned, swallowing hard as he raised his dark gaze to hers. “Grip the edge of the table with your hands to anchor yourself against my thrusts.”

  She did and was grateful that he gave her that warning as he withdrew almost all the way out, then slammed back inside her, again and again, each time jarring her body with the impact of his driving, brutal strokes. His hips moved faster, lunged harder, his well-muscled torso rippling as he hammered mercilessly into her.

  She felt every possessive thrust to her marrow. Welcomed each one. He elicited intense, agonizing pleasure with every stroke, with every rub of the swollen head of his cock right over the flesh inside Summer that had her panting, gasping, and burning up with inescapable need all over again. He was thick and throbbing and impossible to ignore, and everything else around her receded but her desire for him as he consumed her body and soul.

  She couldn’t hold back the deep, fluttering pulses in her body or the hard squeeze of her inner walls around his cock as she came with Declan’s name on her lips. With an unraveling moan, he was right there with her, throwing back his head and roaring so incredibly loud as he spilled his own release inside her in a long, wrenching climax.

  He collapsed on top of her, their bodies still connected, and after a moment, he lifted his head to look down at her. He gently grasped the sides of her face and kept her gaze locked to his darker one. “I missed you, kitten,” he said, the truth of his words shining in his eyes. “So goddamn much.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  She swallowed back the other deeper, more raw emotions gathering in her throat because she couldn’t bring herself to be that vulnerable with him when she had no idea if this moment had changed anything between them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They ended up in Declan’s room, in his bed, with Summer in her favorite spot, snuggled up to his side and resting her head on his chest, where she felt safe and secure. His arm was around her, and she absently stroked her hand along his chest and stomach, knowing that for as perfect as this moment felt between them, they’d resolved absolutely nothing with sex. The only thing they’d settled was the fact that their chemistry and attraction were strong as ever.

  They were both quiet, and she had no idea what was going through Declan’s head. Her own mind and thoughts were surprisingly calm, even though the future with this man was uncertain. But the one thing Summer did know with absolute confidence was, in the five months that he’d been gone, her feelings for him hadn’t changed. Loving Declan was sewn into the fabric of her being, forever a part of her. That much was crystal clear, but she also knew she had to protect her heart because the possibility still existed that Declan could leave her again, and watching him walk away a second time had the ability to crush her completely.

  He’d only been home a handful of days, and everything between them felt so fragile and unpredictable. There were no promises, and she didn’t expect him to make any when his life was at a major crossroads and his military career at stake. She only wanted Declan to choose the path leading to her if it was the right one for him, without question or doubts. The last thing she’d ever want was for him to choose military retirement out of some kind of obligation, then resent that choice, and possibly even her, later, when right now he still had a viable option of staying in the army.

  As much as her feelings felt so open and raw, she didn’t want to talk about them. Didn’t want to sway Declan’s decisions with any kind of emotional blackmail, which wasn’t her style. So she kept them to herself.

  Her fingers drifted over the puckered scar at his right shoulder, which she’d seen earlier when he’d pulled off his shirt in the kitchen. That moment had been so fraught with an urgent, frenzied physical need that asking Declan about what had happened right then would have shattered the connection they’d both craved more than their next breaths.

  But now, she wanted to know the story, since Rick had only given her vague information, and she lifted her head, met Declan’s warm gaze, and asked, “How did you get shot?”

  He smiled lazily, though she didn’t miss the guarded look that shuttered over his features. “With a gun,” he teased.

  “Ha ha,” she said in a droll tone. He was attempting to use humor to evade answering, and she wasn’t letting him off that easy. “Where were you and what happened?” she asked more specifically.

  He sighed as the fingers in Summer’s tousled hair gently massaged her scalp. “You don’t want to know.”

  Frustration welled up inside her, and she didn’t bother suppressing her annoyance. “Don’t tell
me what I do or don’t want to know,” she said, watching as his eyes widened slightly at her forthright attitude. “If I didn’t genuinely care, I wouldn’t have asked. I know you’re not used to sharing things so personal, but this is important to me.”

  His brows furrowed into a deep frown. “Why?”

  “Because it could have cost you your life,” she said, hating even saying the words. “But it didn’t, and I’m so grateful for that. I want to know . . . I need to know, because I care about everything that happens to you.”

  “I’m not used to that,” he said, his tone gruff. “Of course, I’ve had Rick and my friends in the military, but I’ve been out on my own for so long, and it’s just easier not to talk about some things, because I don’t like anyone worrying about me. It’s a burden they don’t need to carry.”

  She lifted her hand and gently skimmed her thumb along his cheek, avoiding the scrapes and scratches from earlier. “Declan, people who care about you or love you are always going to worry. And sometimes, hearing what happened, and that you’re okay despite it, eases their fears.”

  He turned his head away and glanced up at the ceiling. He was quiet for so long she was certain he’d withdrawn and wasn’t going to share anything. But then he spoke.

  “My unit was out on a mission, one where we intended to capture a known terrorist leader who’d done some really bad shit,” he said, not elaborating on what that “really bad shit” was, probably to save her from having to hear the horrible and heinous details. “We were surrounded and ambushed, grenades were thrown and shots fired, which hit me and a few of my guys.” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Honestly, the assault was so bad that we’re lucky nobody in the until was fatally wounded. But it never should have happened to begin with.”

  His gaze was still averted, but with her hand on his chest, right above his rapidly beating heart, she realized that he was taking at least some of the blame for the attack. “Declan . . . you can’t predict something like that.”