Lover's Game (South Bay Soundtracks Book 3)

by Amelia Stone

  And I got lost in his kisses, lost in his beautiful dark eyes, lost in the delicious weight of him over me. He had a faint little mole under his right eye that I’d never noticed before, because I’d never been close enough to see it.

  When he broke the kiss, he pulled himself up into a push-up position, giving me room to lift my torso. I pulled my bra over my head, and a growl escaped him as he watched.

  “Yeah,” he rasped. “I really like this.” He took the lacy thing from me and tossed it aside. “Anything you can pull off that easily gets my vote.”

  I smiled as I pushed his shoulders, and he flopped back onto the mattress. He groaned softly as he did so, and I was reminded of my primary objective here tonight.

  Time to get down to the rehab.

  “Turn to face me,” I told him, trying to keep my tone firm, because I knew it would ruin the mood if he got even the slightest whiff of pity.

  Luckily for me, he happily obeyed, bending his right knee slightly to rest on the mattress. I watched to make sure he was comfortable, and he grinned up at me.

  “Is this part of that sex therapy I keep hearing about?” he asked. “You talk and talk about it, but we’re not actually doing it. It’s a goddamn tease, Krista.”

  I chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you all healed up in no time,” I promised, giving him a cheesy wink. Then I quickly shimmied out of my panties, those dark, predatory eyes watching me the whole time.

  “I knew it,” he growled, when I was finally completely naked.

  “Knew what?” I lay back down beside him, shifting until I was closer to him.

  “I knew you’d have freckles everywhere.” His fingers skimmed my skin, from my shoulder, down my arms, to my hips, across my belly, and finally to the little thatch of reddish-brown curls between my legs.

  “You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, as his fingers ran up and down as though testing my readiness. “Have you been wet all night, Krista?”

  I nodded, my eyes sliding closed. Gods, that felt so good. I might even have another orgasm tonight, if I could get out of my own head long enough to enjoy this.

  Something told me the odds were in my favor, with Seth as my partner.

  “Do you want me here?” He pushed two fingers inside me slowly, drawing out the sensations. “Do you want me to put my big cock inside you?”

  A moan climbed up my throat. “Yes.”

  He could put his cock – and rest assured, it was big – wherever he wanted, as long as he kept being a dirty-mouthed freak while he did it.

  “Condoms are on your side.” He pointed with his other hand to the nightstand behind me. Then he dropped it to my breast, massaging and teasing and pulling another moan from me.

  “It’s okay,” I breathed. “I have an IUD.”

  He pinched my nipple, and I clenched around his fingers. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I want to feel you,” I told him. I wanted our first time together to be as intimate as possible. I wanted us to be as close as two humans could be to each other.

  “I promise I’m clean.” He slid his fingers out of me, trailing up to my clit and circling it slowly.

  “Me too.” I gave him a kiss as I hitched my leg over his hip. “I trust you.”

  I reached between us, gripping his cock and guiding it to my entrance. Then we locked eyes, watching each other as he flexed his hips and slowly pushed inside me.

  “Oh my gods,” I breathed.

  “Fuck.” He pulled me toward him, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’ve never-oh fuck!” His words became strangled in his throat as I shifted my hips. “You feel so good.”

  My breaths came shallow and noisy as he pulled out of me, then pushed back in, achingly slow. He did this a few times, until I thought I was going to die.

  “Seth,” I whimpered, gripping his shoulders and squeezing.

  “So good,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses all over my face, then lower, to my neck and shoulders. “You feel so fucking good, Krista.”

  He continued to push in and out slowly, dragging the thick root of his cock against my clit with every stroke. I could feel the orgasm building, but it was just out of reach, as usual. I groaned in frustration, and he gripped my face between his hands.

  “Tell me,” he commanded.

  “Need to come,” I cried. “But I can’t get there.”

  He kissed me, sloppy, hungry kisses that were all teeth clashing and nipping, and I moaned again. If I could just have his mouth on mine forever, I would probably never have trouble climaxing again.

  “Tell me what you need to get there.” His hand snaked its way between our bodies, and he rubbed my clit with one of those magic fingers.

  “I don’t know.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to lose the momentum. I was so close, but I couldn’t put my finger – no pun intended – on what would push me over the edge.

  “I’m right here with you,” he promised. “I don’t go off until you do.” He gritted his teeth as I rolled my hips, desperately seeking that release. “But I really fucking hope it’s soon.”

  I clenched around him, a tremor that started deep inside and radiated outward. He was so close, almost at the point of losing control. Because of me.

  Gods.

  “Please, Krista.” His eyes were bottomless as he stroked faster, slamming his hips into mine. “Come for me.”

  And that was enough for me. Knowing I’d pushed him to the brink, that I’d made him crazy, was enough to send me into that endless spiral of pleasure. My fingers and toes went numb, my back arched, and I squeezed him so hard that he let out a hoarse shout as he pulsed deep inside me, finally finding his own release.

  We both lay there, arms and legs entangled, as our breathing slowed and our hearts returned to a normal pace. He plunged his fingers into my hair, gently sweeping it away from my face. Then he kissed me gently, softly, and it felt almost like he was thanking me.

  “I want to do that like, nine more times tonight,” he said, when he finally broke the kiss.

  I laughed, and his lips moved up to my forehead.

  “I don’t know if I can,” I told him. “I think I might sleep for about a week now.”

  He chuckled, pulling me closer even as his softening cock slipped out of me. “That’s cool, too.” He flopped over onto his back, pulling me with him. I settled on top of him, and he sighed contentedly. “Just as long as we can stay right here.”

  I hummed happily. “Deal.” I shifted. “Oh, but I should pee. I don’t want to get a UTI.”

  He laughed, slapping my ass and playfully pushing me off. “Over there,” he said, pointing to a door to my left.

  I hurried through my business, eager to get back to him. Then I shamelessly rummaged through his cabinets, looking for a washcloth to clean him up.

  After that was done, I settled back on top of him. We were quiet for a few moments, and I traced patterns on his chest, running my fingers along the soft, sparse hair there. I outlined his tattoo with the edge of a nail, and he shivered.

  “Are these actual stars?” I asked, tapping my fingertip on the little white dots there. It looked like a constellation, but I wasn’t sure which one. Between the two of us, he was the astronomy buff.

  “They are,” he replied, his voice still sandpaper rough.

  “Which ones?” I asked, lifting my eyes to meet his.

  The emotions in those soft, dark eyes floored me. It was serious, but also affectionate. It looked an awful lot like something I wasn’t really ready to put a name to. Not yet.

  “Capricornus.” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his palms on my backside. “It’s your star sign.”

  I inhaled sharply. “But you’ve had it for…” I tried to remember the interview he’d given for the Body Issue, when he’d told the reporter all about the tattoo. But there was a loud buzzing noise in my ears as my pulse quickened again, and I couldn’t think straight.

  “Nine years,” he replied. “I got it when I was a freshman
at Vanderbilt.”

  Nine years ago, when we weren’t speaking. It was only a few months after the fight that ended our friendship, and the wounds would still have been raw for him – for both of us.

  My eyelids fluttered repeatedly as I looked down at him, and his hands squeezed, pulling me closer to him.

  “Why?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The words weren’t coming, but I hoped he knew what I meant.

  “Because,” he replied. “I needed you with me. Even when I hated you, when I thought I never wanted to see you again. I still needed you with me.”

  I closed my eyes. “Seth…”

  “Because,” he repeated. Then he waited silently, patiently, until I opened my eyes and looked at him once more.

  And in those fathomless eyes, I saw that same emotion again, the thing I couldn’t name, wouldn’t name.

  The thing I couldn’t keep, not for long.

  But I could bask in it for a little while. Just a little while.

  “Because it’s always been you for me, Krista. Always.”

  “My feet hurt.”

  Lindsay paced back and forth a few feet from me, a hand pressed to her lower back.

  “Well, then sit down, honey.” Mom looked up over the top of her phone with a frown. A glance at the screen told me she’d just been scrolling through Facebook.

  My niece had clearly created a monster there.

  “Can’t,” my oldest sister replied through gritted teeth. “My ass hurts.”

  “Lindsay Jean! Language!”

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Mom, I think you lost the right to chastise me on my language when I became a mom.”

  “It’s always the right time to be kind,” Mom tutted.

  “Oh, stick a sock in it, Louise,” my grandmother chided in a tired voice.

  Aunt Rita, Mom’s sister-in-law and best friend/mortal enemy, smiled smugly.

  “It is getting a bit old, Louie,” she said, using a nickname she knew my mother hated. “They’re just words.”

  “Thank you, Marguerite,” Mom replied, knowing perfectly well that Aunt Rita had never liked her full name. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “Oh, both of you stick a sock in it,” Nana grumbled, frowning at both her daughters-in-law.

  She pulled herself to her feet with the help of her cane, and the movement produced an alarming creaking noise. I stood up to help her, but she shooed me away. Then she picked up the little donut pillow she’d been sitting on.

  “Here.” She held the donut out to Lindsay, who looked torn.

  “It’s okay, Nana,” she finally said. You keep it.”

  “Please. Pregnancy hemorrhoids are nothing to sneeze at.” Nana shook the pillow impatiently.

  “But you need it,” Lindsay argued.

  “I’m not infirm. I’m just bony,” Nana scoffed. “I wouldn’t even have brought it if Phoebe didn’t see fit to furnish her place of business with these ridiculous things.” She gave one of the carved wood ‘easy’ chairs we were all sitting on a sharp rap with her cane. “I couldn’t sit down for a week after that grand opening gala.”

  It was lunchtime on Wednesday, and we were sitting in Summer Moon, my middle sister’s flagship retail store in New York City. The place had been closed down to accommodate us, and for good reason. Most of the women in my family, several women from Adam’s family, and even a few people who weren’t family had all gathered here for their final dress fittings.

  In typical Jessica fashion, her wedding was going to be completely over the top. She had ten bridesmaids – not including me, the maid of honor – plus my niece, Fiona, as a junior bridesmaid, and Lindsay’s two-year-old twins, Aileen and Aisling, as joint flower girls. And then there was Mom, Nana, Adam’s mother, and Aunt Rita, who were all getting complimentary dresses, too.

  “Well, at least they look nice.” Mom gestured to the chairs, trying as always to find the silver lining.

  “Yes. Nice and ugly,” my cousin Larkin said. She was perched on the edge of a chair to my right, and she scowled down at it as though it had wronged her.

  “And uncomfortable,” Adam’s sister, Alessandra, added. She stood up from her own chair, briefly giving it the evil eye before pacing away.

  “It’s… an interesting design choice.” Mrs. DeLuca, Jess’s future motherin-law, tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

  “I think you’re supposed to lay on them like this,” Fiona piped up. She was draped across her own chair like a cat on a tree branch, limbs akimbo and pelvis tipped up over the back of the lounger.

  Larkin snorted. “Not all of us are that bendy, kid.”

  “Yeah, I don’t even want to think about how my back would feel if I did that,” my cousin Willow agreed.

  She was standing on a little pedestal while one of Phoebe’s assistants futzed with her dress. The bridesmaids’ gowns were made of a light green chiffon, and the silhouette was much more elegant than I would have expected, given Phoebe’s offbeat design style.

  Willow was almost the last person to get fitted; only Jess and Lindsay were left. My own dress – the same style in a darker green – had fit perfectly, much to my relief. Now I just had to get through the next three days, and I could eat whatever I wanted.

  In theory, anyway.

  “Same,” Willow’s younger sister, Emilie, added as she looked at Fiona. “How is that even comfortable?”

  “You’re what, twelve?” Lindsay huffed as she finally settled into a seat with Nana’s donut pillow underneath her. “Pipe down, young’un.”

  Emilie rolled her own eyes. “I’m seventeen, thank you very much.”

  “So, twelve.” Larkin gave Lindsay a nod of solidarity.

  “Aren’t you only like, twenty-three?” Emilie shot back.

  “Twenty-five.” Larkin glanced at her watch, a shadow falling across her features. “But I have seen some shit in my life that would curl your hair.”

  “Larkin Rain!”

  My cousin rolled her eyes. “You really need to forget my middle name, Aunt Louise.” Then she muttered something about ‘fucking hippies’ under her breath.

  “My hair’s already curly,” Emilie protested, but no one paid her any attention.

  Nana narrowed her eyes as she watched the exchange. “Are you one of my granddaughters?” she asked Larkin.

  “No, she’s my brother’s daughter, Mom.” My mother was back to trawling Facebook, no doubt looking for more recipes for delicious things I couldn’t eat.

  “Thank God,” Nana and Larkin said at the same time. Then they both chuckled.

  “Cheers,” Larkin said. “But you’re still mean as fuck.”

  Nana gave her a grudging smile. “If that’s your generation’s way of saying I don’t sugarcoat anything, then cheers to you, too.”

  “Your family is weird,” one of Jess’s friends from California told my sister as she gathered her purse to leave.

  “Yes,” Jess replied cheerfully. “Yes they are.”

  Then Jess’s three friends left with fist bumps and promises to meet us in South Bay for the bachelorette party tomorrow.

  “Okay, you’re done.” The seamstress smiled at Willow, who stepped off the pedestal thingy gingerly, holding the long dress up to avoid stepping on it.

  “Where is my granddaughter?” Nana asked, peering around the room.

  I caught Willow’s eye, and she spread her arms as though to say, everywhere? I laughed softly, because about two-thirds of the people still in this room were indeed Nana’s granddaughters or great-granddaughters.

  “I mean Phoebe, you smart asses,” Nana chided, proving she was still sharp as a tack, even at eighty-seven. “We’ve been sitting in these so-called ‘chairs’ for two hours, and she hasn’t even bothered to grace us with her presence.”

  Mom shrugged. “Phoebe marches to the beat of her own drummer.”

  “Well, that’s no excuse for rudeness,” Nana shot back.

  “Ms. Summers should be out,
uh, in a moment.” Phoebe’s assistant gave us a tight smile as she ushered Willow back to the changing room.

  “She’s been saying that for over an hour,” Nana muttered mutinously.

  “Well, the dresses all look gorgeous, anyway,” Jess gushed, ignoring our grandmother’s grumbling. “This is going to be the prettiest wedding party ever.”

  My cousin-in-law Jenny laughed. “The odds are kind of stacked in your favor, with all these people.”

  “Seriously,” Lindsay agreed. “Did you just ask everyone you know?”

  Jess gasped like she’d been wounded, and I chuckled.

  “You have to admit,” I said to her. “You have enough bridesmaids here to put together a baseball team.”

  “Interesting choice of words.” Jess gave me a shrewd look. “Baseball on the brain, Kris?”

  My cheeks heated up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Sure you don’t,” Jess drawled.

  “Oh, does this have anything to do with you staying at Seth’s house every night this week?” Mom blinked at me innocently, but her dark blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

  After our date Sunday, Seth and I had spent almost every moment together, whether we doing something or nothing. He played with my hair while I worked, we spent lazy afternoons at the beach, and we’d had more than a few stolen moments in the pool. And then, when the day was over, we totally had all the sex.

  And I’d had four orgasms so far this week! That had to be a record with me. It was getting easier and easier every time, as he learned which buttons to press, and I learned how to let go and just trust him.

  My life at the moment was pretty much what I imagined Elysium to be. Every kiss, every touch, every smile, gave me hope that maybe – just maybe – I could have what I wanted.

  You know, when I wasn’t waiting for the Greeks to come pouring out of the horse’s mouth.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, reminding myself that I really needed to stop expecting the worst. He liked me. He’d said it, and he’d certainly demonstrated it. I could believe that things would work out the way I wanted them to.

  I could.

  Maybe.