Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  When he kissed down her stomach, she moaned in anticipation. Her fists clenched around nothing. A light ache rolled through her shoulders at being pinned in one position for too long.

  He nudged her legs apart, and as the air met her mound, she realized how wet she was. When he drew his tongue up her slit, she whimpered for release. He found her clit with his mouth, and she almost came, grinding against his face. He sucked and nibbled on the swollen button. She was so worked up, it drew her toward orgasm without much effort.

  He eased back as her groans became frantic pants of need, and she bit the inside of her cheek to distract herself from the disappointment. Unlike before, though, he didn’t pull away. He slid a finger inside her and pumped at the right pace to keep her at the edge of climax but not push her over.

  “This is killing me.” Christopher’s voice was gravelly. “Watching you writhe, naked and at my mercy...”

  She laughed with disbelief, and her own voice startled her. “You? How do you think I feel?”

  “I’m hoping pretty fucking good.” He pulled out of her, then nudged her bottom lip with his damp finger.

  She sucked it in and licked herself from his skin. His low groans amplified the taste, and she took her time, licking him clean. A sound reached her. Was that a zipper?

  The mattress shifted again. Rough denim bit the inside of her thighs, and her legs were forced further apart. She barely had a chance to register what it, meant before something round and much larger than a finger traced her slit. He thrust inside her without further fanfare, filling her up, then rocked against her.

  She’d always had trouble coming from penetration alone, but if he kept this up, it wouldn’t be an issue. He moved his thumb to her clit, and the new point of contact opened the gate on her orgasm. She screamed and tried to increase the speed of his pounding, but he set the pace. She clenched around his cock, squirming away when his touch became too much. He didn’t relent. One climax led to the next, and he finally pulled his hands away.

  He slammed inside her fast, without the control that had been there before. Her pillow compressed, and his lips met her ear. “You feel incredible.” A growl ran through his whisper. “So fucking tight.”

  Something tugged at her arms, he unbound her wrists. Free of her restraints, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers, to kiss him hard. Poured all her need and desire into the new physical connection.

  He jerked back with a grunt, and drove against her in a series of slaps that overlapped until she lost track. He let out a long grunt when he came, then eased off, until the pounding stopped.

  The mattress shook, and her pillow adjusted beneath her head, heavy from what she assumed was the weight of his hands next to her ears. His heavy breathing mingled with hers, and Dante’s as well. The only sounds in the room.

  Christopher kissed up her neck. “Still glad you decided to do this?”

  “I’m sorry—what?” she said teasingly. “You’ll need to give me a few minutes to remember how to think.” She felt incredible, though. The haze of stress was gone, replaced with feathers of pleasure.

  He rolled to the side and pulled her into him, her back to his chest. “I can take the scarf off if you want.”

  “No. I like it in here.” She was wrapped in the bubble of what transpired, and not in a hurry to shatter it.

  He kissed her shoulder. “I got the room for the night, so you’ve got time. We’ll stay a little longer. The three of us can order pizza. You can stay in your head until you’re ready to slide down.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Saying those words took more strength than she expected. Already the shell around them was shattering and fading, as the real world rushed back in. “You don’t have to stick around.”

  He didn’t pull away. “No, we don’t have to. But we will.”

  “I’m fine.” The assurance tasted sour on her tongue.

  Her world tilted when another body joined them on the mattress. Maybe she should take off the blindfold, after all. Her mind revolted at the idea, and she argued with herself it wasn’t a big deal. She reached up and untied the scarf covering her eyes.

  The tension around her head loosened, and a blink later, it fell away. She winced at the sudden shift in light, despite it being candlelit in the room. When she could see, she realized Dante was watching her with the most compassion she’d ever seen the man direct at her. It stole her breath and cluttered her already fractured mind.

  He brushed a thumb over her cheek. His light touch sent needles through her still-heightened senses. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

  “You can kick us out, if you’d prefer.” Dante’s voice was low. “But if we leave, you have to call Andi or someone else. We’re not leaving you alone.”

  Instinct told her to argue. To bite back that he didn’t have that kind of say in how she spent the rest of her night. It was tough to hear that over the gratitude he was being insistent. What was wrong with her head? And how long until she could do this again?

  Chapter Twelve

  Dante would deny it if anyone asked, but he was concerned about Julie. Maybe she was as all right as she insisted. Given her reluctance to literally look at the world around her, and that he was pretty sure she’d never done something like this before, he was going to push his luck and make sure she came down gently from the cloud she was on. Christopher was sympathetic from here to the moon, but he didn’t know how it felt to be on the receiving end.

  “If you’re going to insist, who am I to argue?” Julie gave him a smile.

  That, combined with the flush on her cheeks and her seductive naked form, supported his decision to tell her to stay. And—fuck—she and Christopher had been hot together. Dante’s dick was almost raw from jerking off while he watched.

  The way she remained curled up against Christopher did send daggers of jealousy through Dante, though, and that was brand new. He didn’t even feel that with his ex, when she was a current.

  She pushed herself to sit. “I could do pizza.”

  Dante unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off, keeping the T-shirt underneath. He draped the shirt over her shoulders. She tugged it mostly closed, leaving a strip of bare skin down the middle of her chest. That was just as alluring as her nude. He shouldn’t have been so quick to zip up his jeans.

  Christopher extracted himself from the bedding. He wore a half-smile. He removed the condom, wrapped it in tissue, and tossed it in the trash, then headed into the bathroom. Seconds later, the sound of running water in the sink filtered into the room. “I’ll make the call. Julie, what do you like?” he asked as he wandered back into the room.

  “I’m pretty happy with what I just had.” She giggled. It was an odd sound coming from her, but it was pleasant. “You meant on my pizza, I suppose.”

  Dante shook his head, but he was smiling. “He might have. You a classic pepperoni gal? You’re from the mountain states, right? Maybe you like something weird like pineapple and ham? Sausage seems too obvious.”

  “I’m betting olives and mushrooms. Vegetarian.” Christopher flopped on his back at their feet, tilting his head to see them both.

  “What about me and the fact I ordered extra bacon this morning at breakfast says vegetarian?” The normal stress that lined Julie’s voice had vanished. She was like a different person. “And I hate to be boring and ruin any bet the two of you may have going about my pizza topping preference, but pepperoni. Lots of it. And cheese.”

  “Who knew? Sometimes you are reasonable.” Dante winked at her.

  She rolled her eyes, but her expression didn’t droop. “Same to you.”

  Christopher placed the order, and the conversation continued along the same lighthearted and superficial lines. When the food arrived, he dropped the box in the middle of the bed and opened the lid.

  “You’re kidding. You must be.” Julie looked at Dante.

  He tried to figure out what she was talking about. Nope, no clue. “Kidding about what?”
>
  “The man who gives me shit for having flour on my countertops eats pizza in bed?”

  “It’s not my bed.” Dante liked this. What were the odds it would last beyond tonight?

  “Why cookies?” Christopher’s attention was all on Julie, as they dug into dinner. “Why not cakes or cupcakes, or something else trendy?”

  Dante bit back another surge of envy, not liking the way the taste mingled with tomato sauce.

  Julie glanced at him, and her smile wilted. What did she see on his face? “Dante knows the story. I don’t want to bore him.”

  “Ignore him. He sulks when he’s not the center of attention.” Christopher’s tone was light.

  “You’re one to talk.” Dante bit back playfully.

  “Busted.” Christopher’s playful voice never wavered. “Why cookies? I want to know”

  Julie looked between the two of them, brow furrowing for a moment. She blew out a puff of breath, kicking her hair out of her face. “I had this boss at my last job. Nice guy. Worked hard to make sure we were all compensated even when there were things like pay freezes and bonus cuts. One of the head-honchos was coming into town, and Drake—my boss—wanted to make an impression, but he didn’t want to come off as a complete kiss-ass.”

  Dante gave an exaggerated yawn, and Christopher elbowed him, before gesturing to Julie to continue. Dante needed to bring his reactions under control and stop being a pest.

  “Drake found out the guy was a huge WoW fan,” Julie said.

  “As in, nifty, spiffy, keen?” Dante asked.

  Christopher nudged him again, but there was more teasing in it. “As in World of Warcraft. I thought you knew this story.”

  “He does. Anyway. I mentioned it to Andi, she and I brainstormed, and when Mr. Bigwig arrived in the office the next week, the cookies, complete with images of various world bosses sat in the break room. Not as a direct gift—that’d be too obvious—but enough to get the guy to fanboy a little and relax when he met with Drake.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Christopher leaned closer, his attention on her rather than dinner. “And you did it just because?”

  “Not just because. He was a good boss, as close to a friend as is possible in a working relationship, so I did him a favor. Mr. Bigwig loved the cookies, wanted to know where the company got them, and had us make a couple of batches for his nephew’s birthday. One referral led to another, and after six months, we were taking a dozen orders a week. Soon we reached a point where we had to turn people away because we didn’t have the space to cook that much and couldn’t balance it with our day jobs.”

  Dante wondered what it would take for him and Julie to reach that kind of friendly point like she had with Christopher. The friction was involuntary and kept him going, but it got tiresome.

  “Wow. No pun intended.” Christopher shifted his weight.

  “You don’t want to hear my old stories.” Julie turned her gaze to her hands. “How did the two of you meet?”

  A frown flickered across Christopher’s face, but it vanished again so quickly, Dante could have imagined it.

  That seemed like as dangerous a topic as they could touch on. Dante grabbed the stock answer they gave most people. “We met through work. You ever notice he’s a charming fucker when he wants to be?”

  “Guilty as charged.” Christopher’s chuckle sounded strained.

  Could they find a neutral topic fast, and get back to the pleasantness?

  *

  Christopher was grateful Dante glossed over the details of their hookup. A tiny bit of him hated to keep the truth from Julie, but he argued back that, if she asked outright, he’d tell her the truth. For the time being, he was grateful they’d established their boundaries up front, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings about the lack of future for this relationship.

  Though he did hope Julie agreed to do something like this again. It had been a while since he and Dante had this kind of synergy with anyone. Had they ever? Either way, it would be fun to keep this up until shooting was over and everyone went their separate ways.

  Hooking up more than once wouldn’t happen if the mood in the room stayed this tense. He was about to prompt Julie for more information about herself, when she said, “That was obviously the wrong question to ask. I get it. Not everyone has an adorable meet-cute to start their relationship with.” Despite the heavy air in the room, she still looked relaxed. Almost glowing.

  A stunning reminder of how good it felt to make her squirm and moan.

  She looked at Dante. “What about this instead—how does someone become the biggest, baddest, meanest chef on TV?”

  “Do you mean me, specifically, or some other not-quite-so-baddest TV chef? It varies from person to person.” Dante already looked happier with the new subject, the corners of his lips tugging up. Christopher wasn’t sure if it was because Dante had an excuse to talk about himself or was simply grateful to move on. Probably a bit of both.

  Julie laughed. “You, specifically.”

  “I was plucked from the kitchens of my local diner.” Dante’s voice shifted to something that sounded like an action-movie announcer. “Skyrocketed to stardom because I made better frozen hash browns than the studio executive had ever tasted.”

  Julie pursed her lips, but it didn’t hide her smile. “Cool story. Now tell me the real one.”

  “The truth isn’t quite as overnight-success. I used to teach classes at a local restaurant supply store. We did candy making, marinades, plating, and whatever else they wanted to sell to customers that week. I loved doing it. I made most of it up as I went along. A friend—the woman I married and then divorced”—Dante’s voice hitched, but with a tiny shake of his head, he continued—“talked me into sending in a tape for an open audition the studio was holding. The network liked what they saw, and several rounds of readings later, I was in.”

  “I love stories like that,” said Julie. “Where someone pushes themselves to do what they love, and ends up being in the right place at the right time.”

  Dante leaned back, to rest his weight on his wrists. “I do too. It’s why I give companies like yours a chance. You and Andi are crazy talented.”

  “You need to be careful with the compliments. A girl might get addicted.” Pink dotted Julie’s cheeks, reminding Christopher of how she looked bound and blindfolded.

  He could think of a few other things he’d like to help her get addicted to—handcuffs, candle wax...

  Apparently it would be a while before he shook the more tantalizing images.

  “Don’t worry,” Dante said. “In the morning, I’ll be back to being a hardass.”

  Christopher was content to watch this play out, as long as Julie and Dante got along. It was a pleasant change of pace.

  The conversation continued until Julie was yawning as much as she was talking. Christopher wasn’t big on spending the night. It set a bar of expectation, even if everyone said otherwise. Julie was doing better, having come out of the bubble she wanted to stay in immediately after the sex. He stood. “You should get some sleep. It’s been a few days, if I remember right.”

  “At least.” Her expression shifted to an odd combination of relief and disappointment. How was it possible to convey both? “Do you want your shirt back?” she asked Dante.

  “Keep it until tomorrow.”

  She saw them to the door, a whole twenty-or-so feet away, and hesitated.

  “What’s up?” Christopher was too curious to let things die like that.

  “Well... these are lessons, right? Lessons don’t usually stop after just one?”

  Her question sent a spike of arousal through him, and his cock jerked against his jeans. “You have a good point. I’ll get you additional details soon.”

  They finished saying their goodnights, and as he and Dante headed toward their car, a twinge pinged inside Christopher. He refused to give it audience.

  The ride home was mostly quiet. Nervous energy hummed through him, looking for a release
he didn’t know how to grant. Images of the night danced in his thoughts. Of Julie seeing them off, wearing nothing but Dante’s shirt. Of Dante watching the scene and jerking off. All of it mingled and hummed over Christopher’s skin until he was alight with energy.

  By the time they reached their temporary house, an intense desperation clawed inside. He couldn’t name the feeling besides fix me now, and he didn’t like it. The moment they stepped through the front door, he pinned Dante against the wall with his frame and crushed their mouths together. He groaned against Dante’s lips, diving into the sensation and losing himself in the intensity.

  Dante kissed back hard and hungrily.

  Christopher pulled away, to look Dante in the eye, and dropped his hand to cup Dante’s cock through his jeans. “I don’t want to play anymore tonight.” He couldn’t keep the gravel from his voice. “I just want you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julie slept so well last night, she couldn’t muster a scowl for the plywood on the bakery windows when she got home. The smile she’d worn since she woke up persisted as she headed up to the apartment. When she pushed inside, the alluring scent of fresh-brewed coffee greeted her. The filming today would be insane, and probably push every single button in her control-console, but she could handle it.

  Andi sat at the kitchen table, half-finished bowl of cereal in front of her. “I was worried you got lost last night.” Her voice held a hint of teasing, and she nodded at Julie’s clothes.

  “I guess—in a way—I did.” Because Julie walked into the motel room without much information, she hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes. It was tempting to keep Dante’s shirt on this morning, but she wasn’t so immersed in the incredible feeling she thought that was wise. Though they hadn’t discussed it, she suspected discretion was part of the arrangement.

  Andi twisted her mouth in a grimace. “Did you get my messages?”

  “Messages?” It took the word a moment to register in Julie’s head, and when it did, she fumbled for her phone in her purse. “I turned it off and forgot to turn it back on.”