Playing His Game (The Reynolds Brothers)

by Justine Elvira

  My eyes flutter open and I'm visually assaulted with an exquisite, freshly showered Jared. When my sister told me a few months ago that he had shaved his head after a period of reevaluating his life, I thought he had forever destroyed his good looks by chopping off his gorgeous locks of hair.

  Then she sent me a picture.

  Somehow, even though I never thought it could be possible, he looks even better than he did before. Even though I no longer look at him as the sex fantasy in my dreams, it's impossible to ignore the looks God blessed him with. My eyes drift over his arms exposing just some of the ink that covers his entire body.

  "What time is it?" I ask groggily. My hands move to rub my eyes, attempting to wipe some of the sleep away.

  "A little after nine. I came down to make Autumn a cup of coffee. Why aren't you in bed?"

  Shit.

  "I... umm," spit it out, Winnie.

  "Scott's in there. He must have crashed while the party was still going on. When I went to go to bed he was already passed out, so I came back in here and slept on the couch."

  "Sure thing." Jared smiles and reaches up to ruffle my hair. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

  "Please."

  I follow Jared into the kitchen and watch him as he makes both of us a cup of coffee. We drink our coffee in silence and as the seconds tick by I'm more and more worried that Jared might put something together. What he'll piece together, I don't know. It's not like I have the words "I screwed your brother" written across my forehead.

  "You don't work today?" I ask, trying to find something to talk about.

  "Nope. That's the nice thing about the porn industry. If I don't want to film today, then we don't film. Have you seen Tawny? I think she had an early photo shoot today."

  "Tawny? Why would I have seen Tawny? I just woke up." My mind is racing with a thousand different thoughts and my palms start to sweat.

  "Stop acting like a nutcase. All I meant is, do you know if she stayed here last night?"

  Hmm. I actually don't know where she stayed. All I know is she wasn't in the guest room when I woke up, but I can't share those details with Jared.

  "Nope. I have no idea."

  "Oh, well, not my problem."

  My coffee tastes like heaven right now. The only thing missing is two aspirin to cure me of this morning hangover headache, and maybe a time machine so I can go back to twenty-four hours ago and start the day over.

  What will I say to Scott when he wakes up? What will I say to Tawny? I’m not sure how these morning after situations are handled when it involves a threesome. Whenever I've had a one-time hook-up back home, I usually dashed out of the house before the lucky guy from the night before woke up. No need to stick around for the awkward morning conversation to follow. He'd make promises, I'd make promises, and both of us would know it was bullshit.

  Now I’m forced to have that morning conversation with Scott because we're both in Jared's house and I have no place to go.

  Or do I?

  I could make up some excuse and fly back home. I'm sure I can get the airline to switch my flight. I could say Mom and Dad need my help at the shop. Autumn would believe it and if I act fast I might get lucky and Scott won't wake up before I leave. I know it's a shitty thing to do, but I really can’t face him this morning while remembering all the things I let him do to me last night. The wonderful, erotic things he did to me that we both need to forget.

  "I have to go," I practically shout to Jared.

  "Okay... go. I just drank Autumn's coffee so I just need to make another cup and I'll be on my way too."

  "No, I mean I have to fly back home. My mom texted last night and she needs my help at the shop, and one of the girls at the club needs me to fill in for her. Her... grandma died."

  "Alright, I'll just go up and tell Autumn you’re leaving-"

  "No! No, if you tell her she'll try and convince me to stay and I don't want to ruin her birthday happiness high. Just distract her and I'll be gone in fifteen minutes."

  Jared sets his coffee mug down and folds his arms over his chest, squinting those gray eyes, the same piercing eyes as Scott, at me questioningly. "What's going on?"

  "Nothing."

  "My profession may not require a lot of brain cells but I'm not dumb. What's wrong, Winn?"

  Crap. What should I tell him?

  "I just have some personal things going on back at home and I need to go handle them. I'm glad I came and got to celebrate Autumn's birthday with her, but I need to go home."

  "Guy problems?"

  "Something like that."

  "Okay, Winn. Serious moment for a second. You're practically family and I look at you like a little sister."

  Just what I need, a reminder on how much I monumentally fucked up last night and screwed my pseudo-brother's brother.

  "You tell this guy that if he hurts you I'm going to fuck him up. No one hurts you and gets away with it. Got it?"

  "Got it. Thanks, Jared."

  "No need to thank me. That's what big brothers are for. I'll text my driver and have him bring you to the airport. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bring this coffee upstairs and wake your sister up with my cock. You might want to put in some headphones."

  I laugh, rolling my eyes at him. "Nothing I haven't heard from you before."

  Jared heads upstairs and that's when I make a mad dash to the guest bedroom. When I walk in Scott is still sprawled out on the bed, passed out. Instead of changing in the room and risking him waking up, I grab my suitcase and cell phone and leave the room quickly and silently. The good thing is since I just arrived yesterday and Autumn's party was last night, I never had a chance to unpack.

  There's a bathroom down the hallway so I slip inside and change into some clean clothes before bringing everything up to the front door and waiting for Jared's driver. He arrives rather quickly and I'm grateful.

  The drive to LAX is surprisingly quick. There was very little traffic, which is practically unheard of in Los Angeles. When I get to the ticket counter I'm able to switch my flight around for a fee and upgrade charge, so I'm only stuck waiting in the terminal for a few hours before my flight boards. The only seat available on my flight was in first-class so I pretty much drained my checking account to fly home.

  Once I'm seated in my plush leather seat in first class, I ask the flight attendant for a Bloody Mary and pull out my phone, ready to forget the events of last night.

  Of course, my phone won't allow it. I have a text from Autumn. She's pissed I left without saying goodbye but she loves me and is praying for my safe travel home. There's a text from Tawny telling me she had fun last night and she won’t say anything. She also added an emoticon of puckered lips and I cringe inside.

  As fun as that was I will never have a repeat performance with Tawny again.

  The last text is from Scott. Seven words that will have me questioning their meaning for weeks to come.

  Scott: I fucked up last night. I'm sorry.

  He fucked up because he slept with me or he fucked up because he invited Tawny to sleep with us, too? What is he sorry for?

  Gah!!!

  The flight attendant hands me my drink and I chug the contents until my glass is empty and I'm asking for another.

  The perks of flying first-class.

  The aspirin hasn't kicked in because my head is pounding, I'm tired and I can still smell Scott and Tawny all over me. In my rush to leave this morning I didn't have a chance to shower and I smell like sex. Dirty, kinky, earth shattering and make your body tremble until you’re begging to come sex. I just want to fall asleep and forget all about that kind of sex for a few hours.

  I shut off my phone, buckle my seatbelt and recline my chair back, resting my head on the pillow I was kindly provided by the airline. My eyes close and sleep quickly takes over. The only two times I'm stirred from my slumber is when the plane takes off and when the flight attendant comes back with my drink. I gulp down the contents of my second Bloody Mary quickly befo
re falling back asleep.

  ★★★

  The next few weeks fly by in a blur. Wake up, exercise, work at the boat shop, waitress or work at the club and go home to sleep, just to repeat it the next day. I haven't heard anything from Scott and I'm wondering if that's why I can't shake the foul mood I'm in.

  I'm not sure why I'm angry. I'm the one who left him in bed. I'm the one who left the next morning so I wouldn't have to face him. But what did he expect? By having a threesome we pretty much guaranteed that it was just sex, nothing more. Yet I'm the one pathetically waiting by the phone, wondering why he hasn't texted again or called. And I'm still wondering what that vague text I received when I was on the plane meant.

  I just need to stop thinking about it. I'm not this girl. I'm not Autumn. I need to just fuck someone else to get over him.

  I'm working a bachelor party tonight solo in one of the private rooms. With summer approaching so is wedding season in the Midwest. We have several bachelor parties going on tonight which is why we're so short staffed. I usually just serve at the parties and dance. I'm not a stripper. But when my boss offers me an extra three hundred dollars to work this party, I don't turn him down. I need to start replenishing my checking account after it took a dip from my impulsive flight home.

  The plus is I don't have to be completely nude. Topless in a thong is as naked as I have to get, and because my mood is so sour I welcome the distraction of strange men wanting to fondle my body.

  I dance for a couple hours before changing into my outfit for the bachelor party. My make-up’s been reapplied and my hair’s been fluffed. I look as good as new.

  I bring the group of six men behind the private curtain of our room for the next hour. Our security guard, Hank, is assigned to me tonight so he stands guard at the curtain to make sure none of these men get out of control.

  Tonight's group of men is a nice change. Usually, the men who have their bachelor parties here are older, out of shape, and ugly. Their wallets are heavy but that's about all they have going for them. Not that you should judge men by their appearance, but since they're the ones asking for a hot piece of ass to strip in front of them, I think we should ask for a few nice looking guys in return. That's why I'm pleasantly surprised at the group of hot, muscular twenty-somethings that I got lucky enough to get assigned to tonight.

  I hit the stripper jackpot.

  The room we're in is darker, lit by red shaded lights that shine across the black brick accent wall. There's a red sofa that stretches against the black wall and a folding chair in the center of the room.

  Shuffling the boys onto the sofa, I walk over to the chair, dragging my fingers across the top of it while I look at the men seductively. "Alright, boys. Which one of you is the groom?"

  Hesitantly, one of the men in the center stands up. His golden blond hair is a little long and parted on the side. His white sneakers, denim jeans and polo shirt finish off his preppy look. In fact, all of the men have preppy, rich, and entitled written all over them. This is normally not my type, but their muscular builds and perfect smiles will do for the night.

  It may be against policy but I need to get laid by one of the friends of the groom.

  The groom sits in the chair in front of me before smiling up at me, showing me his adorable dimples. I walk over to him and push his knees together before turning around and sitting down on his lap. My back is to his front as I turn to address the five other men.

  "Here is how tonight will work, boys. We're short staffed so you won't have a server in here with us. The alcohol is over in the corner. You'll have to serve yourselves. Hank," I point over to where the red curtains meet. Hank stands tall in front of it and gives the boys a quick nod of his head. "Hank will be watching at all times. If anyone gets out of hand you will all be escorted out. Got it?"

  "What's considered out of hand?" the dark haired one wearing an MSU t-shirt asks.

  "I'm glad you asked, frat boy. The groom can touch," I reply, dramatically rubbing my ass over the groom's groin. I lift his hand that's hanging down by his side and pull it up to cup my breast over the schoolgirl costume I'm wearing.

  "If at any time I say no, then the touching stops. The stripping is for all of you to enjoy and I will also be giving lap dances, but you must ask before you can touch. I like men who are polite so if you're polite to me, I'll be generous back." I wink.

  "Anything else we'll just have to see as we go. As you can see there aren't many rules because I get to choose what goes on here, but break any of the rules and you're out. Got it?"

  "Yes, ma'am," the groom whispers behind me as he slowly continues to fondle my breast.

  I stand up and turn around before straddling his hips and sitting back down. "Ma'am? I like you already," I say, leaning in and kissing him chastely on the lips before standing back up.

  "Alright, boys, let's start this party." Hank walks over to the stereo system where my smartphone is hooked up and presses play on my playlist, while I move in to start dancing for the groom.

  An hour later I'm slipping my clothes back on as the men linger around in the back room. The party was fun and I let some of the boys get a little friskier than I ever thought I'd allow. They were just so sweet and complete gentlemen compared to the men usually in the private rooms. Especially the soon-to-be groom. Too bad he's getting married soon because otherwise I'd be asking him to take me home. When I was grinding my almost bare core against him, I got a nice preview of what he's packing beneath his jeans and I know I wouldn't be disappointed.

  "When do you get off?" Chris, the best man, asks me.

  "I'm done for the night," I reply nonchalantly.

  "Come out with us. We're heading over to that old club a few blocks over and you should come."

  Chris is cute but definitely not my taste for the night. I know I'd have fun with these guys if I went out, but I'd be breaking protocol and club rules. I'd hate to lose my job over it.

  A hard body slams into me from behind before I feel his palm slide over my stomach. "Come out with us, please? It's my party and I want you there," Marcus, the soon-to-be groom, whispers drunkenly in my ear.

  I turn around in his arms to see his smiling face shining down on me before he leans forward and captures my lips with his in a sloppy kiss. Even in his altered state, his lips are warm and nice. The passion that runs through me when Scott kisses me isn't there, but I still enjoy it. My palms land on his chest and gently push him away, knowing I should stop him.

  "Everything alright here?" Hank asks, walking over from the curtain.

  "Everything's fine, Hank. I'm just going to change and grab my purse before heading out with these guys."

  A bunch of hoots and hollering fills the room as the boys give me their appreciation that I've decided to join them. Marcus looks down at me happily and I just shake my head, giggling at him. I know this is a bad idea, but that's never stopped me before. I'm ready for some fun tonight. I internally promise myself that I'll leave Marcus alone and screw one of his single friends before the night is over.

  ★★★

  My limbs are aching and stiff. I try to move but every muscle in my body tells me to stop. The drumming beat in my head continues to get louder and louder and I can feel the nerves pulsing behind my right eye.

  This is either the worst migraine ever, or the worst hangover ever.

  My eyelids peel open and all I see is white light shining through. It hurts so bad. The light is painful. My eyelids close and I open them again, blinking a few times until I adjust to the bright light. I glance around the unfamiliar room, trying to figure out where I am, until I see him and everything from last night comes rushing through my head.

  The drinking, the drugs, coming back here, dancing on the dining room table, more drinks. Then there was his eyes, his lips, the muscles on his back and that gorgeously defined V-shape leading down to his pants. Yes, it was that stupid V-shape that teased me and egged me on. It reminded me of Scott so much that I finally started stripping
him naked and screwing him on the dining room table after his friends left the room.

  Oh, God.

  I squint my eyes looking at him, hoping that my memory is playing tricks on me, but there he is. Marcus lies face down on the dirty carpet floor, naked. His pale firm butt cheeks stand out in the sunlight.

  I'm a horrible person, the worst. He's getting married. I just slept with him and probably ruined his upcoming marriage. Who does that? I'm so fucked up. I'm usually better than this. I don't ever hook up with men in relationships. God, I'm going to be sick.

  Getting up off the floor as swiftly as possible, I run and search for the nearest bathroom. Once I'm there I only make it as far as the sink before I'm puking out the alcoholic contents in my stomach. With every heave another memory from last night flashes in my brain. It's superficial, I know, but the most upsetting memory is that he wasn't even any good. I didn't come.

  My stomach settles and I quickly wash my mouth out with water before splashing my pale face to wake up. Quietly, trying desperately not to wake up the soon-to-be groom, I search for my clothes, slipping them on before finding my purse and getting out of there.

  Fuck and dash seems to be my new thing.

  If Marcus is lucky, he won't remember any of it and he'll go off and marry his fiancée.

  My car's not here so I dig through my purse to find my smartphone. The giant black bag is like a black hole, sucking up all its contents. My fingers latch on to my small rectangular lifeline to getting home and I pull it out and turn it on. I call for a cab and get lucky. He's only five minutes away.

  It's when I hang up that I realize I have a missed text. Two, actually, and my stomach gets all nauseas again when I see who the texts are from.

  Scott.

  Blinking and taking a few deep breaths, I click on his name to read the text messages.

  Scott: I'm out at some club with my buddies where the girls dance on tables in lingerie. No nudity. Made me think of you.

  The second text came through on my phone an hour later.