PLAYED
By
Colleen Charles
Table of Contents
PLAYED
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
BONUS STORY - HOOK
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Foreword
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Prologue
Reed
I want to fuck her.
I wanted to slide my hard cock into her wet folds until she screamed. Not because she was hotter than hell. Well… maybe that was part of it. No. It was mainly because she acted like I’d been dismissed in her eyes and she didn’t want me. But she would. I’d make her want me. She’d want me so bad she’d be touching herself and begging for it. Pleading with me to split her wide open. And I’d let her beg.
“What’s that girl’s name?” I asked Milo. Milogost Adamski was my best friend and a kick-ass defenseman. A beastly one hundred and eighty pounds of pure Polish brick shithouse. Even though his folks were immigrants, he was born in Minnesota and spoke perfect English, albeit with a stylish accent. One that got him laid.
A lot.
“Who?” Milo countered, looking up from the game strategies he’d been pouring over. He shielded his gaze from the ice and snorted. “That’s Harper, you dipshit. Blind much?”
I gritted my teeth. Milo was quick with a joke and smile but just as quick to call me out on my bullshit. Or stupidity. Usually both. Milo didn’t need an athletic scholarship for college. He was a fucking National Merit Scholar, scoring in the top one percent of the entire country on his entrance exams.
“Not Harper. The girl standing next to her.” Shit. I rolled my eyes at Milo and ran a hand through my hair. I knew better than to look at Harper Payne. She’d been my next door neighbor since grade school and was like one of the guys. We’d hunted for toads in the pond and caught fireflies in a jar. I loved her like a brother. I trusted her like a buddy.
And I was firmly in her friend zone.
Milo seemed to search the massive collection of data and statistics that clogged his razor-sharp mind and shrugged. “I think her name’s Olivia somebody. She’s new here. Came from some swanky private school and then had to go public when Daddy lost his money in a Ponzi scheme. She’s a senior, and forget it… she won’t drop her panties for you.”
I arched a brow. “Is that a challenge?”
“Everything’s a contest when it comes to you, Grunt.” Milo resorted to my nickname, the one I’d gotten when I took a cross check from Theo Richardson so hard it knocked the wind out of me. My mom was screaming in the stands like I needed an ambulance or something.
I grinned. What Milo said was true. I’d never backed down from a challenge and today wouldn’t be any different. And now was the perfect time to rub it in Milo’s face because the gorgeous Olivia was walking closer, her tight t-shirt stretched across her full tits. I could see their outline, and I caressed them with my eyes just like I would with my hands.
“Ladies,” I said as I skated to them and left a spray of shaved ice in my wake. Harper rolled her eyes as she tugged at her tortoise shell glasses but Olivia grinned at me.
“And you are?” she asked.
I took my hand out of my glove to take hers and then realized it was sweaty and gross, so I rubbed it on my thighs. Harper stared at me like I’d just sprouted another head. While Olivia was about five-foot-eight of willowy brunette goddess, curvy everywhere it counted, Harper was short and plump, her long mousy brown hair always in a tight ponytail and her horn-rimmed glasses perched on a nose sprinkled with freckles. I’d never seen her wear make-up, and I’d never seen her in anything other than jeans and tennis shoes. Threadbare and worn. Even though we never talked about it, I knew Harper rarely got anything new. Most of her stuff came from the Goodwill or Savers. Harper’s mom worked two jobs just to make ends meet, and her dad was gone. Long gone.
“I’m Reed Matheson.”
“Nice to meet you… Reed,” Olivia said as she took my hand in hers and squeezed. Electricity shot up my arm and headed straight between my legs. As her elegant fingers pressed into the tender flesh of my palm, I fantasized about them wrapped around my cock giving me a hand job so illuminating I’d see the light of a thousand stars. Damn. I wanted this chick flat on her back. I was going to be hard, straining and jerking off about it until it happened. But this older woman thing might take more than a trip to Sonic and a personal wave from the ice during a game.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” I noticed as I swept my free hand around the crowded arena. Our team had been to State the last three consecutive years, and we had a following. Huge and mostly female. Thanks to me and Milo ‘Meathead’ Adamski.
“It’s my first time,” Olivia said with a wink, making it known to me and everyone within hearing distance that it wasn’t her first time. For anything. “I’m not from around here. If you’d met me before, you’d remember… Reed.”
I narrowed my eyes. So, Olivia was a little stuck up. Looking like she did, it would be hard not to go that direction. But that just made the chase even more exciting. My mouth practically watered as I imagined her splayed out underneath me. Writhing. Squealing.
Coming.
Harper stood there with her mouth forming a perfect little pout. I wondered why the two girls were even hanging out together since Olivia wasn’t Harper’s normal type of friend. Either Harper was reaching, or Olivia was slumming. Harper tended to hang with the intelligent and creative types. Like glee club, chess club, debate team nerds. Olivia was all feminine, luscious woman from head to toe.
“Are you enjoying your… first time?” I couldn’t help but let the innuendo drip from my lips. Two could play her game. She’d thrown down the gauntlet. Let the challenge begin. I wanted her. I’d have her. She could know it.
Right. Fucking. Now.
“Olivia’s having a great time,” Harper interrupted, moving forward to stand between me and the teen bombshell. The two girls stood on a black, rubber mat that coach had placed on the ice so the fans could mingle. Anything to exploit our popularity and ratchet up the fan adoration. Asses in the seats provided funds for our expanding program. College sc
outs were here all the time now. Something I loved and lapped up like a thirsty dog.
Olivia laughed a little in a flirtatious symphony of girlish tones. Her hands clasped before her as she glanced around the crowded arena. I loved the sparkle in her eyes. The only thing that could make it better is if her eyes were fiery with desire for me.
“I really like it here. There are men, and they’re sweaty and ramming each other. I find it very… heated.”
I wondered if everything on her body was heated. Like her perfect pussy. I wanted to clutch her clasped hands, pull her forward and suck her bottom lip into my mouth. Harper disrupted my degenerate thoughts again with a little sniff. It was like she knew where my depraved mind had gone and was having none of it.
“More like a bunch of dudes who are really arrogant douche bags that don’t care about their friends.”
I ignored her. Like I always did when something crawled up her ass and died. Which was becoming more and more often. Then, I reminded myself that she was a girl and not a dude. She’d always been so nondescript to me that I tended to forget deep down, she was still a chick with her drama and her emotions. Maybe she was on the rag.
Olivia shook her head. “Oh, no, Harper. These guys are a great team. I can’t wait to watch the game tomorrow night. I’m going to get a seat close to the ice, so I can be close to all the ramming.”
At that, Harper snorted out a laugh. “That just goes to show what you know, Olivia. If you sit close to the ice, you can’t see anything. You need to be above the plexiglass in order to have the best view of the action. By the way, it’s called checking. Not ramming.”
I jerked my gaze from Harper’s snarky comments back to Olivia. Just looking at her excited me. She didn’t even need to speak. God, I loved girls like her.
Loose.
“There’s only one kind of action I want to see,” she said, her eyes dropping to my crotch.
Harper folded her arms, clearly done with the two-way conversation between me and Olivia that she wasn’t really involved in, like a geeky third wheel. I ignored her again, scanning my hungry eyes up and down Olivia’s reedy body. I wished Harper would just get lost so I could ask Olivia to go out with me without her eavesdropping on my private conversations. Harper always thought she knew best and stuck her freckled nose where it didn’t belong. Harper regularly cramped my style.
“What kind of action would that be?” I asked in my huskiest tone. Panties usually dropped at my feet whenever I pulled out the big guns. I sidled closer to Olivia and hoped Harper would get the hint and scram. From the corner of my eye, I saw my friend’s face fall, but I ignored it. I couldn’t be responsible for Harper’s litany of somber moods courtesy of an unhealthy addiction to Death Cab For Cutie. Lately, it seemed like she had a kaleidoscope of negativity ranging from depressed to downright furious. I couldn’t deal. Right now, I needed to focus on myself and what I wanted. I wanted Olivia. Legs spread and mouth open.
But Harper didn’t seem deterred by any of my shenanigans. She’d seen them for so many years they were probably like old hat to her. I didn’t really understand what her deal was tonight. Wasn’t she late for glee club or something? The only thing that kept her from getting a Slurpee to the head or an underwear wedgie was her friendship with me. Everyone knew I’d kick the ass of anyone who gave her grief. The only person allowed to give Harper grief was me. And Milo. But he loved her, and he never really rode her like I did.
“Don’t you have someplace to be, Bacon?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I clapped a hand over my flippant mouth. I hadn’t meant to let that old nickname slip but she’d annoyed the living shit out of me one time back in grade school, and I still called her that when she yanked my chain now. But always in private. Harper had made it clear on multiple occasions that she didn’t appreciate it. Pissed her off to no end. And I’d gone and made an ass of myself in front of Harper. And Olivia.
“What did you call me?” Harper asked slowly, all color draining from her already pale face.
Olivia’s reaction shocked me. Instead of being appalled, her eyes twinkled with delight. She began to laugh, her eyes welling up with gleeful tears at Harper’s expense. “Bacon? Christ, it’s perfect. Bacon Payne. A moment on her lips and forever on her hips. Tell me, Bacon, do you eat it a pound at a time?”
Both Harper and Olivia looked at me, twin expressions of expectation on their faces. I didn’t like female expectations. No matter which way I went, I’d be wrong in the eyes of one of them. I could tell Olivia to bite me and defend my friend of ten years, but that would end any chance I had of getting in her pants. I sighed and went for the path of least resistance and instant gratification.
I shrugged as I speared Harper with a death glare. “Harper, stop being such a baby.”
The next moment seemed to move in slow motion like one of those ESPN blooper reels when the center’s head gets shoved into the boards. Olivia cackled a belly laugh, a wicked partner to Harper’s stricken face, crumpled with humiliation. Sorrow and… glaring disappointment.
In me.
Her eyes filled with tears, pinning me to the ice as surely as if a metal rod went through my spine to sink into the rink beneath my skates.
Olivia couldn’t let it rest. “Aren’t you late for chess club, Bacon?”
Harper let out a pained sound. Like her insides ached as she turned and stumbled up the vinyl mat to the exit door. My eyes followed her as she sprinted up the steps and out of the arena.
“Wait!” I finally made my mouth work and called after her retreating back, but she didn’t hear me. Or didn’t want to hear me. “Harper, slow the hell down.”
“Nicely done, asshat,” Milo said from behind me, his voice dripping with censure. He loved Harper too. “That might be one of the most dickhead moves I’ve ever witnessed.”
Damn. I had to get off this ice. Go after her and salvage what I could. I glanced at Olivia, her eyes still sparkling with glee. All of a sudden, she didn’t look as fuckable as she had a few minutes ago. The reality of what I’d done settled in. I’d fallen to my knees in worship of my own cock, and now I’d have to pay for my blasphemy.
Milo reached my back and whispered in my ear. “Untie your skates and leave them here. I’ll take care of it. Fix this, or you’ll regret it. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday when you grow the fuck up.”
I’d never untied my skates as fast in my life. In seconds, I was running off the ice and after Harper in my socks and uniform. I burst through the double metal doors and outside into the late afternoon sun. Blinded by the sudden light, I put a hand over my eyes to shield them as I searched the parking lot for her. I found her huddled in a heap over by a trashcan on the side of the arena.
“Don’t be upset, Harper,” I said as I approached her like I might a wounded bird. “I was just teasing.”
“That’s just it, Reed,” she choked out between muffled sobs. “You’re always teasing. Always.”
I swallowed, trying to push the ball of guilt past the knot in my throat. “You’re overreacting.”
The moment it slipped past my lips, I knew I’d said the worst thing possible. Damn it. Could I ever say anything right around her? It seemed like ever since we’d gone into high school and I’d made varsity as a freshman, every single little thing I said and did set her off like the pin on a hand grenade. I was so over this female emotion shit. I wanted the old Harper back. The one who could give as good as she got. The one who made me feel good.
Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and her face was littered with tears. “I expected Olivia to be an asshole, but not you.”
I felt like a bowie knife had pierced my chest to slice my heart wide open. Harper was right. I was a first-class selfish asshole. But… I was also an immature jock without a lot of skills in real relationships. My dick led me everywhere. Usually, somewhere I didn’t need to be. I settled for the only sentence I could think of that she couldn’t argue with.
“I’m sorry, Harpe
r.”
“The damage is already done,” she said as she hung her head between her knees. I could barely make out her final sentence. “You’re too late.”
Chapter One
Reed
“She might not make it, Mr. Matheson.”
I sat in the cold, metal chair of the doctor’s office feeling numb and lifeless. I’d already gone through pissed, sad, and scared. No, not scared.
Fucking terrified.
I glanced up at Dr. Nielson. Speared her with my knife-like gaze would be more like it. I’d whipped that lethal glare out often throughout my entire NHL career as one of the top centers in the league. The top goal scorer for the Minnesota Caribou for seven years straight. Until I’d blown out my knee skiing. Skiing had ended my professional hockey career. If my heart weren’t already shattered by the diagnosis staring me straight in the face, it would break all over again at the memory of my untimely forced retirement.
“What can we do, Dr. Nielson?” The deep voice to the right of me jolted me back to the present. I’d rather live in the past and dream of hope for the future, but my body remained in the present, the only place I didn’t want to be.
“There’s a new drug on the market that just received FDA approval. It’s been extremely effective in clinical trials. In fact, we were fortunate enough to host one here at the Mayo Clinic, and I was thrilled with the results.”
Milo shifted in his seat. His two hundred and twenty-pound frame encased in the metal and chrome prison like a breakfast sausage on a brunch buffet. Since college, he’d packed on even more muscle.
“Then we need that drug,” he said. “How do we get it?”
Dr. Nielson pressed her lips into a thin line. “It’s not covered by Minnesota Care. And it’s…” She drummed her fingers on the desk.
Milo leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “It’s what?”
“It’s really cost prohibitive.” The good doctor stared at me with pity lacing her kind eyes. Anyone on Minnesota Care didn’t have a pot to piss in. Rich people had the gold standard of coverage and didn’t need subsidized health care. Judging from her expression, she’d already figured out that I’d fallen from financial grace.
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