Christopher nudged Dante’s entrance with the head of his cock, then penetrated him an inch at a time, sliding in at an excruciatingly slow pace. When he was buried to the hilt, he adopted an even rhythm, at a similar speed to the one Dante teased him with moments ago.
At the same time, he reached around and gripped Dante’s shaft. Christopher accelerated his pumping, stroking Dante faster, squeezing enough it had to send a light ache through his lover. Dante moaned in response, fucking Christopher’s fist.
Each time Dante’s groans reached the familiar, fevered pitch of nearing climax, Christopher eased off. Dante thrust his hips to increase the attention again, but Christopher held back.
“Please.” Dante’s voice was low, a grumble rolling through it. “Let me come.”
The appeal rolled over Christopher, singeing his skin and tightening in his balls. He sped up, pumping Dante hard, not easing up when he let out a throaty cry and climaxed, coating Christopher’s hand with sticky fluid.
Christopher loosened his grip, but didn’t let go, despite the occasional shudder racing through Dante. His dick had to be tender, and Christopher was enjoying the teasing. He thrust harder inside Dante, and was greeted with an arched back and a loud gasp.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved both hands to Dante’s hips, squeezing tight as he pounded inside. Christopher’s thoughts swam and flitted into oblivion, leaving pleasure in their wake. The edges of his vision blurred as he neared orgasm.
He came hard, thrusting until he was spent. His breath tore from his lungs in jagged shards. Christopher leaned forward and lay a line of kisses along Dante’s spine. “God, you tell a good story.” Christopher gave a throaty chuckle.
“I’ve got an excellent muse.” Dante moved forward and dropped to the bed as Christopher softened and pulled out of him.
They cleaned up, and climbed into bed next to each other, a light haze of bliss drifting through the room.
“Are you going to tell me what Julie did?” Christopher asked.
“Same shit, different day. And it’s possible I provoked her a little bit.”
“I can’t imagine.” It was a symptom of the rift growing between him and Dante—the gap that got more difficult every day for Christopher to ignore. The persona Dante adopted for TV—one he’d honed over the years, to make the network happy—bled into real life.
This time, that included the harsh and cruel attitude pointed at Julie, and that kind of clash with a business partner made everything worse. Christopher was tired of asking him to change the behavior. In less than two weeks, they’d shoot the special segment for Dante’s show, featuring the kitschy bakery, and head back to L.A. That would be the end of most of the strain, one way or another. Dante’s interaction with Julie would be limited to occasional meetings, and Andi would become his primary point of contact for investor and business information.
Dante scooted closer on the bed and intertwined his fingers with Christopher’s. “I’ll try harder. I promise.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Something told Christopher that Dante and Julie were continents away from finding common ground. “The two of you should just fuck and get it over with.” The taunt triggered something in his mind that he didn’t intend—the desire to see Julie and Dante together. “Forget I said that.”
“Would it help?” Dante asked.
“How could it possibly?”
“I know things are rocky between you and me.” Dante sighed. “That you’d rather be home. You don’t like how the show is going. I promise, when we make it through filming this segment, I’ll talk to the studio about changes. Get your name up there with the associate-producer credits, where it belongs.”
“It’s not about Julie or having my name on the screen.” So much for the fuzzy afterglow of sex.
“I understand that, but it’s a stopgap.” At least Dante realized the issue ran deeper.
Christopher wasn’t sure if Dante specifically referred to screwing Julie or a general, random fling. Using sex as a way to break down walls was a holdover from Christopher’s time as a therapist. He’d surrendered several of his practices when he quit the profession, but that one still made sense. Getting laid shifted the mind’s perspective, and it was a pretty decent way to do so. “It could be. Bar this weekend?”
“Or ask Julie.”
Christopher liked the suggestion. It didn’t matter how many ways he tried to talk himself out of it; he wouldn’t mind if she was their playmate while they were here. “You can’t stand her. That’s what started this conversation.”
“I don’t have to like her, to watch you fuck her.”
“You’re not making this better.” This contract couldn’t end soon enough, as far as Christopher was concerned.
Chapter Two
Julie stifled another yawn but couldn’t stop her eyes from watering. She grabbed the small towel she had on hand for patting her cheeks dry, then turned back to her latest batch of cookies. She was pretending she didn’t know it was after six in the morning. Trying to ignore the fact that, if Andi had come home last night, Julie would have had company, not to mention someone to help her taste-test.
Not that any of the batches met her standards in other areas—sturdy enough to hold the frosting Andi painted on, but not so soft or crumbly they’d break in transport—but at least Julie would know if she had the flavor right. At this point, everything but her fifth cup of coffee tasted like sawdust. The coffee had more of an espresso-roasted-sawdust flavor.
Twelve hours ago, she was determined to have this done before Dante got in, to prove a point. Now she’d be lucky if she could get everything cleaned up and snatch a couple hours sleep before the script read-through for their timeslot on Dante’s show.
And then he’d be justified in his opinions. Everyone would figure out she didn’t have her act together and was making it up as she went along. She squelched the insecurity before her exhaustion could send it spiraling out of control.
She focused on a string of reassurances instead. Andi didn’t come home because—more often than not, these days—she spent the night with her guys. And Dante didn’t expect the recipe to be done first thing this morning.
The list didn’t calm Julie the way she wanted. The latch on the front door, which led to the shop on the other side of the kitchen, clanked open, and any peace she’d found evaporated. It might be Andi, but she tended to use the back entrance to head straight up to the apartment. Odds were far better it was Dante.
Julie was too tired to put on a mask for him this morning. Had no will left to keep from blaming him for her being up all night, even though the currently tiny, rational part of her knew her own stubbornness was responsible. She could retreat upstairs before he found her, in about ten seconds, but that meant leaving the kitchen a mess. She’d never hear the end of that.
“Hello?” she called out. Christopher ducked his head around the corner, and relief nudged her senses. “Are you here alone?” she asked.
He raised his brows, a half-formed smile twitching on his face. “Technically not, if you’re here.” He lounged against the doorframe. The posture accentuated the sturdy, muscular lines of his body. “That’s not what you’re asking, though.”
She shook her head, enjoying the light teasing. A little whisper asked if he was intentionally avoiding her gaze. It must be her imagination and tiredness. She’d only known him for a month or so, and they weren’t best buds or anything, but their conversations tended toward pleasant rather than stilted.
“I came in by myself.” He studied her without flinching “I wanted to test recording and backup before the place got busy. I didn’t think anyone would appreciate being the personal star of the movie.” No, she definitely imagined the looking away before.
“I don’t have a problem with it, if you ever need your own personal movie star.” Great. Now lack of sleep was screwing with her verbal filter. She should to get to bed before she spilled too many thoughts. “But not today. Sleep is calling my name.�
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“Have you been up all night?”
The impulse to rant about why rose to her lips, and she bit it back. She could badmouth Dante to Andi sometimes, but she knew whose side Christopher would take, and in her current state of mind, that might break her. “I had a lot to get done. Lost track of time.” She didn’t believe the lie. Would he?
He furrowed his brow. “Finish up. Get to bed.”
“Yes, Sir.” She gave him a weak smile and turned her attention back to straightening her kitchen. The next twenty or so minutes passed quickly, as she repeated her motions from last night. Her sense of satisfaction and relief at having a clean kitchen was missing. She had no idea how to make the cookies work.
Her phone rang, and she fetched it from her back pocket, grateful for the distraction. She frowned at her ex-fiancé’s name on the screen. It wasn’t a big deal he got in touch with her recently, after several years of not speaking, but she didn’t know if she had the fortitude to be pleasant. Her tired fingers fumbled the device twice, before she managed to hit Answer. “Hey.”
“Are you all right?” Luke asked.
“Fine. Long night is all.”
“Sexy new boyfriend in your life?” His teasing tone was marred with something darker.
Yes. Problem is he’s not my boyfriend. “I was working. What’s up?”
“Not much. I was wondering if you were free later today.”
“I don’t have any room in my schedule until after filming is done.” The rational part of her mind told her Luke was being friendly. He’d been the one to dump her all those years ago, and his few phone calls were polite. She didn’t know if she was ready to face him, though. Some scars ran deep, and the humiliation he put her through still felt fresh whenever she saw Andi with Kane and Isaiah.
Not because Julie’s breakup had anything to do with Andi. Hell, her best friend didn’t even know about it. It was because, back then, Luke wanted to bring a third person into their relationship, to experiment. Julie said yes, never expecting to be dumped as a result. The experience taught her an important lesson—there was nothing wrong with multiple partner sex. Just with people pretending three-person relationships were anything beyond that.
“No worries.” Luke sounded cheerful. “I know things are hectic. Give me a call when you have some free time. We’ll catch up.”
“Sure.” Julie didn’t know if she meant it. “Talk to you later.” She disconnected.
“I thought you already left, Julie.” Christopher’s voice made her jump.
She whirled to face him. “I was about to, but I drank too much caffeine last night, so I’m making some herbal tea first.” She should do that, so her excuse sounded plausible. In reality, she didn’t know why she was still down here.
“I didn’t mean to listen in, but I caught the tail end of that walking by. Someone you didn’t mean to give your number to, or a persistent one-night stand?”
She frowned and tried to make sense of his question, and then it clicked. She hadn’t done such a splendid job of hiding her hesitation at seeing Luke again if Christopher heard it in her tone. That didn’t mean she wanted to get into details about her heartbreak. “Old friend. That’s all.”
Christopher studied her for a minute. “Is everything all right?”
“Things between us are a little— Yeah. Everything’s fine.” She turned away before the brush off could show on her face. “I should get back to my tea.”
“Speaking of... How fresh is that pot of coffee in there?”
She was grateful Christopher didn’t push the subject. “I tried to hold out and not make a new pot. Told myself I didn’t need one more cup. I lost the struggle about two hours ago, so it’s not the best, but I guess it’s okay.”
“Are you kidding? Two hours means it’s got character. The pot at home lasts all day.” He joined her in the kitchen.
She couldn’t suppress her grimace. “Maybe you need a smaller coffee maker?”
“You sound like Dante.”
She shot him a narrowed-eye glare.
He grabbed the coffee pot and a clean mug. “No offense.” He dumped generous amounts of cream and sugar into the blend, before taking a long swallow.
“You know, that stuff has a flavor of its own.”
“Yes. One I choose to enhance with copious quantities of sweetness. Something’s got to take the edge off the bitter.”
She liked this banter. Simple. No expectations. The way it always was with Christopher. She pushed herself up to sit on the counter, grabbed her tea, and sipped slowly.
“Dante would burst a blood vessel if he saw you sitting on a prep surface.” A warning slid into Christopher’s words.
“Last time I checked, this wasn’t Dante’s kitchen.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean you have to go out of your way to antagonize him.”
And the fun, easiness of the moment was gone. “You sound like Andi.”
“Because she’s right. Either you or he needs to be the bigger person. Wouldn’t the spite of doing that feel good?”
She let a small laugh slip out at the less-than-subtle manipulation. “Nice try. And yes. Let’s all listen to Andi. She’s the wise one, right?” The bitterness in her voice surprised her, and she winced.
Christopher set down his mug, pleasant expression hidden behind an impassive mask. “I’m going to get to work. I’ll come back when you’re feeling less—”
“Bitchy?”
“I was going to say reactionary.”
“I’m sorry.” She drummed the fingers of her free hand against the counter. “I’ve been up all night; my filters are a bit broken. You don’t deserve to deal with it though.”
“Neither does Dante.”
God. Would he drop it already? “He’s the reason for it.”
Christopher crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a nearby cabinet. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”
Why hadn’t she gone to bed when she had the chance? “You have to say that. You’re fucking him.”
“I don’t have to say anything. And do you really think that little of me that you believe I’d hook up with an asshole?”
The question caught her off-guard. She hadn’t looked at it that way before. There were several easy answers. I don’t know you well enough for that, or, they say love is blind. “No. I think better of you than that.”
“Question for you.” His posture shifted from defensive to something more open. “What do you think of Andi’s relationship?”
That was an abrupt shift in topics. “That’s between Andi and her guys. Ask her. They’re not shy when it comes to talking about it.” The new subject might have been welcome, except it tugged at memories she preferred not to give attention to.
“Her guys. I like it. But I’m asking how you feel about it. Unless the truth is the kind of thing that destroys friendships. I don’t want to be trusted with that kind of information.”
It might wound Andi a little to learn there were things she didn’t know about Julie, but their relationship would most likely survive. “Nothing like that. I mean, not that there is something. She knows how I feel.”
“Which is...? Or is this you telling me to fuck off and drop it?”
She liked his bluntness.
Then why does it bother you coming from Dante?
It was less playful with Dante. More vindictive. “Which is that I don’t have a problem with people sleeping with who they want to. God knows I’ve done it a few times myself and walked away the next morning.” Shut up. Despite the mental command, her mouth kept moving. “Besides, Andi says her guys are the cutest ever together. I wouldn’t want cute. I’d want drop dead fucking sexy hot, like what you and Dante have.”
White-hot embarrassment flooded her when Christopher’s eyes widened, and her own words sank in. Stupid sleepy brain. “I mean... I just...” She struggled to get a grasp of her vocabulary. “They’re gamer geeks.”
“So am I. When I have free time.” His mouth quirked
in a smile.
“Well, I am too, but I mean you’re...” God. Why was she still talking?
“Drop-dead fucking-sexy hot?”
She met his gaze, and her voice caught at the intensity with which he stared back. She tried to swallow past her suddenly dry throat. “Yes. That.” Why was he standing so close?
“I think I understand.” Amusement danced in his eyes, playful and intoxicating. Wow she needed sleep. “You don’t have an issue with three people sleeping together; you simply prefer your men less on the cuddly side of the spectrum and leaning more toward hot and heavy?”
Couldn’t have said it better myself. Except she needed to not say it.
A sharp whistle rolled through the room, piercing Julie’s ears and jarring her out of the pleasant fog enveloping her mind. Dante stood in the doorway, watching them with a smirk.
She scooted sideways past Christopher, hopped to her feet, and took several steps back toward the stairs leading to her apartment. “I need to go.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” Dante said.
“There’s nothing to stop, because we weren’t doing anything. I need to get some rest. At least an hour or two before the read-through.” She reached the landing. She called over her shoulder, “You’ll have your cookies by end of day, Dante.” Great. Because that didn’t make her look like a guilty, defensive spaz.
Chapter Three
Last night’s shared fantasy with Dante still danced in Christopher’s thoughts, but he shouldn’t have pushed Julie’s buttons while she was too tired to think straight. The way she backed away from him, face flushed and posture guarded, as if he was the second-to-last person she wanted to see—the first being behind him—told him he took things too far too fast.
As soon as he heard the upstairs door latch shut, he whirled on Dante. He shouldn’t be bothered by the interruption or the attitude or any of it. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2) Page 2