Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  Julie rode with Christopher and Dante. She offered to take her own car, but they insisted. She thought it was a bit odd, given the stuttered small talk, and the way they both seemed to be holding something back. Rather than second-guess their behavior, she spent the trip replaying the conversation with Andi in her head.

  At the restaurant, Julie watched Andi interact with her guys. Her mannerisms were like when she’d been on the phone, and both men wore expressions that mirrored her adoration. It was similar to what Julie saw at the hospital when Andi was injured, but happier and more intense. Watching the three interact sent a spike of envy through Julie. What would it be like to find that kind of love? And twice at once?

  Dante nudged her. “Take a bite.” He held out something that looked a bit like a bun and the menu said was a knish.

  She shook her head.

  “One bite. I want your opinion.” His tone was playful but insistent.

  She rolled her eyes but did as he said. A wash of flavor melted over her tongue. She took her time chewing and swallowing, savoring the taste. “Is that brisket and sweet potato?”

  “With onions, but I can’t identify the spices,” Dante said.

  Julie furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what else she tasted. “Garlic. Pepper. But those are obvious.” Dante offered her another bite, and she accepted. “I can’t place it.”

  Dante shook his head. “Not quite traditional Russian. Could you reproduce it?”

  “Maybe.” She liked the idea of trying. “It’d be worth a couple of batches to see. Make the dough a little lighter.”

  “You’d need an unbiased test subject.” Dante nodded at Christopher, who raised his hand.

  “I’m always up for that,” Christopher said.

  The conversation shifted toward the dishes the others were having, and then to new topics. Julie couldn’t believe how familiar this felt with Christopher and Dante, but at the same time, she didn’t want it any other way.

  At the end of the evening, Christopher parked in the back lot of the bakery. Julie hesitated in her seat. Temptation to invite them upstairs spilled inside. Andi wouldn’t be home tonight. Apparently, no one had to work, first thing in the morning.

  The offer flitted to her tongue, and she bit it back. She wanted—needed—what the three of them had to be more than sex. She hopped from the car. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Sounds good.” Disappointment hung in Christopher’s words.

  As she let herself into the shop, she heard the car pull away. In her apartment, she dropped onto her mattress.

  Hours later, she was still staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of her thoughts. She’d been so sure for so long that love wasn’t real—especially the kind that involved more than two people. Last time she surrendered her heart, the guy turned out to be a bit of a psycho stalker.

  She was the last person whose judgment could be trusted on the matter.

  Underneath the confusion remained a simple truth. Every time she thought about life without Christopher and Dante in it, an empty hole spread across her heart, hammering so hard it ached in every inch of her body.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A few days later, Andi made the big move out of the apartment. It took an afternoon to get her and her things into Kane and Isaiah’s. She and Julie had only been in the apartment for a few months, and half of what Andi owned was already at the other house.

  Her furniture was loaded into a truck a little while ago, along with Andi and her guys. Andi gave Julie a goodbye hug. It was odd that the farewell felt so final. They’d still see each other every day for work.

  Andi would be back tomorrow afternoon, so they’d have two days to make their final grand-opening plans before Saturday morning. Julie didn’t know what she was going to do with herself until then.

  She stood in the doorway of the empty second bedroom in her apartment. Andi finished moving out the last of her stuff less than an hour ago, so afterimages still filled Julie’s head, superimposed over the bare floor and walls. Julie was originally reluctant to move in with Andi, because Julie had never shared an apartment before. Not even with Luke. Now the place felt barren.

  How should she spend her evening? Work on marketing. Double check her to-do list. Call Christopher and Dante, and say... What? She’d seen them a few times since the incident with Luke. The conversations centered on bakery business and held an underlying air of discomfort from both men. Had she pushed them away for good? She wanted to believe things were better this way, but she wasn’t buying it.

  The floorboards creaked, and her heart dropped into her stomach. She should have locked the door after Andi left. Before she could turn, a hand rested on the small of her back.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” Christopher’s question danced across her skin, and his palm seared through her shirt.

  Her pulse kicked up another notch, but in a happier direction. She grinned and leaned into his touch. “I can’t remember.”

  “That’s so like you.” Dante’s light taunt carried from behind.

  She spun to see him setting a pizza box on the kitchen table. Happiness flooded through her at the sight of both men. “I could be honest and say existence and emptiness, but it sounds bleak when I put it into words.”

  “That explains why Andi called and said you looked mopey when she left.” Dante moved through the kitchenette as if it were his own, despite never having been up here. He opened the cupboard with the plates and grabbed three.

  Julie’s smile grew until her cheeks hurt. “I’m not mopey, and how did you know where I kept those?”

  “Dry goods in the tall skinny cabinet nearest the fridge. Glass dishes above the stove, and sheet pans next to it. Plates and silverware by the sink. The cupboard above the microwave has tea, coffee, and mugs.” Dante pointed as he talked. “Where else would you keep any of it?”

  Christopher guided her to a seat, pulled it out, and pushed it in as she sat. “You two disturb me. That pizza is the best deep dish in Chicago, which means it’s the best anywhere, and if you spend the night trying to guess what’s in the marinara sauce, you’ll crush fond images of my teenage years.”

  “I wouldn’t want that.” Julie laughed. “Beer is in the...” She twisted her mouth when Dante grabbed three bottles from the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. “I’m not going to be impressed you found the beer, because where else would it be?”

  He grabbed a bottle opener from its drawer, popped the top off one drink, and handed it to her. “I get points for knowing you had some on hand, or we would have brought some.”

  “It could have been Andi’s.”

  “Then it either wouldn’t be here, or she won’t miss it between tonight and tomorrow morning.” Dante looked smug.

  Julie was amazed at how good—how right—this felt. The void that had settled inside over the past few days was replaced by a flutter that buoyed her. She refused to overthink it. Best to appreciate the feeling for what it was. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

  “Me too.” Christopher kissed her on the forehead before taking a seat.

  A new flurry of feathers flitted through her.

  “And me makes three.” Dante held up his beer. “To us being awesome.”

  They clinked their bottles, then dug into the meal. Christopher was right; it was the best deep dish she ever had, including her own attempts. Which she promised Christopher she’d stay away from in the future, to keep from destroying his memories. Attaching any commitment to him and in the future was right on so many levels.

  After they ate, they moved into the living room. Julie vaguely remembered agreeing to watch something with romance and comedy. Christopher sat next to Dante and pulled Julie onto the couch, on his other side. They spent the film laughing and joking and distinctly not paying attention.

  As the credits rolled, Dante hit the Pause button on the remote.

  “What’s up?” Julie asked.

  He wore an exaggerated pout. “We missed it.�

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  She raised her brows.

  Christopher chuckled. “He means the corny, contrived, yet touchingly sweet confession of love that implies happily ever after.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing.” Dante sounded indignant.

  “Not bad. Just scripted,” Christopher said.

  Julie got the feeling they’d had this conversation before, in one variation or another. Being involved in it now, even listening more than talking, warmed her from the inside out. It was being part of a simple but still intimate moment.

  “It’s a movie. Of course it’s scripted. But pretty words don’t mean they’re any less sincere.” Dante stood and offered Julie his hand. When she placed her palm against his, the pleasant glow inside her cranked another notch toward hot. He tugged her to her feet and positioned himself so they stood inches apart.

  The faint scents of oregano and hops spiced his aftershave. He drew a finger along her jaw, holding her gaze. “For instance”—he traced her bottom lip, and a pleasant chill raced through her—“Julie, I know we clash. I expect that will always be the case. Maybe it’s because we’re too much alike, though don’t tell anyone I’m admitting that.”

  “I promise it doesn’t leave this room.” She let out a small laugh, and his amusement reflected back at her.

  “I appreciate that.” He rested his hand on her cheek. “Despite a handful of downs, the ups are incredible, and I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t know how we make it work, but I’m open to negotiation. I love you. I’ve only ever loved one person as much, and I want you both.”

  Julie’s heart soared into her throat, pushing out a giggle of relief. She hadn’t realized how much those simple words could change her world. Hearing Luke say it never came close to feeling this amazing. From Dante... She wanted to wrap this moment in a protective bubble so she could savor it for years to come. Then again, being by his side and Christopher’s would give her that and more. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything I said the other day, and—”

  Dante crushed his mouth to hers, cutting off any more words or thoughts. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, held him close, and seared the moment into her mind. They broke apart with a gasp. Dante rested his forehead against hers. “That’s how you do a heartfelt confession.” His low, deep voice rolled over her.

  She pushed him away playfully. When she swung her wrist back, Christopher gripped it. He spun her to face him and tugged so her choice was to stumble or catch herself on the back of the couch, hands on either side of his head. He grabbed her hips and guided her to straddle his legs. “You don’t always need all those words.”

  “No?” Julie’s question faded into a gasp when Christopher knotted his fingers in her hair.

  He nipped along her lips, stealing more of her breath with each bite, until she thought her head might float away. He tightened his grip until a sting tingled over her scalp. When he kissed her, it was so light, she felt his heat more than his lips. He pulled her head back, to look her in the eye. “Mine.”

  Instinct said she should be bothered by the statement. The assumption. Except she knew he meant it as a two-way street. She was only his for as long as she allowed it. It was more comforting than she thought possible. She nodded, unable to find the right words to reply.

  He kissed her harder this time, diving his tongue into her mouth and holding her head captive. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her nails into his back, holding on for all she had.

  Christopher’s erection pressed into her, urging and tempting. She wasn’t interested in drawing lines. She needed to be closer. To feel everything.

  *

  It had been ages since Dante felt this light. Julie’s confession, knowing Christopher felt the same way... it added up to amazing. Watching her grinding in Christopher’s lap, Dante swore he could feel her weight against his own cock.

  There was a time for the games. The restraints and blindfolds and hot wax. The exchange of power. That wasn’t on the docket tonight. He wanted a nearness with Julie and Christopher. An all-consuming bubble in time, where he could lose himself in their company.

  He knelt next to them on the cushions. Christopher turned to kiss him, not releasing his grip on Julie. “Do you want to watch?” Christopher asked.

  “No. I’m not keeping my hands to myself.” Dante pulled Julie’s face to his and claimed her lips.

  Her whimper traveled over him. When she dropped her hand below his waist and traced his cock through his slacks, he groaned against her mouth.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Christopher glide his hands up Julie’s chest, to cup her breasts. When he kneaded through fabric, she moaned and gripped Dante harder, stroking his erection.

  It was simple making out, but the three-way affection made Dante’s pulse roar. He broke the kiss, to look Julie in the eye and get a better view of Christopher’s attentions.

  Dante didn’t know which he liked more in general—watching Julie and Christopher together or being an active participant. Tonight, he needed to stay hands-on, at least a while longer. Immerse himself in this new discovery of affection.

  He was upping the ante, though. He held Julie’s gaze as he worked loose the button on her jeans and yanked down the zipper. Sliding a hand under her panties and parting her folds meant his knuckles brushed Christopher’s cock.

  Julie bit her bottom lip when Dante zeroed in on her clit. “That’s how you want to go?” Laughter lined her breathy question.

  “It’s an excellent idea.” Christopher pushed her shirt out of the way and lowered his head to one breast.

  Dante was captivated by the sight. Christopher scraping his teeth along the lace of Julie’s bra... The look of bliss on her face, and the way it shifted to a wince every time Dante hit a new spot between her legs...

  She licked her lips. When she pulled her hand from Dante’s dick, disappointment hissed. It vanished half a second later, when she undid his slacks and worked him free. Her fingers were cool against his hot shaft, and she stroked in time to the attention he gave her sex.

  Her pumping increased in speed, and she thrust her hips against Dante’s hand. The gasps that tore from her throat tightened in his stomach. She closed her eyes, lips half-parted, and ground into him, tightening her grip on his cock.

  She was gorgeous when she was about to come. Or anytime, but right now he had a singular focus. He increased the pressure and shifted his touch until she cried out. Dante continued to circle her clit until she jerked away from his touch with a shudder.

  Even as she dropped her forehead against Christopher’s shoulder, she continued to stroke Dante’s cock.

  “Can you stand?” Christopher whispered in her ear.

  Julie straightened up. “Probably.”

  “Get undressed.” Christopher’s tone was low and commanding.

  Dante slid his fingers away from Julie, replacing her grip on his shaft with his own. His hand was still slick with her juices and slipped easily along his skin.

  He wanted to hold out for the rest of the show, but watching her climax pushed him to the edge. He pumped hard and fast, as she pulled off her shirt. Stroked furiously when she made a show of unhooking her bra, then dropping the lingerie and covering her breasts.

  She turned away, bent at the waist, and pushed the rest of her clothes to the ground. The stunning view of her ass and the hint of pussy peeking through short circuited Dante’s brain.

  He had to ease up, to keep from hitting orgasm too soon. An ache spread through his balls, but it was worth it. God, she was worth this and so much more.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Christopher’s attention was torn between Julie’s simple striptease and Dante’s fist around his cock. Watching this moment, being a part of it, knowing all three of them wanted a relationship—so many delicious thoughts blended into a single spot of joy in Christopher’s mind.

  He shoved off his pants and boxers, and his erection sprang free. The cool air was almost harsh against sensitive skin raw from Julie’s grinding. The sting carried a wave of euphoria with it. He took a condom from his wallet and rolled it on, then gestured for Julie to move closer. “I want to watch you riding me,” he said.

  She straddled his legs again, and when she lowered herself onto his shaft, wet and warm and tight, exquisite anticipation spiked through him. Hands on her hips, he set a pace meant to build from slow and steady to hard and pounding.

  Julie’s lips found his, then Dante stole her away, but when she broke for air, Christopher claimed Dante’s mouth. Christopher lost track of who was kissing whom. His head slid into a place wrapped in the heat of fucking and watching at the same time.

  Julie slammed into him harder, changing the rhythm, and he was happy to oblige. Each time he drove inside her, he hit something, and she gasped. She reached for Dante’s cock and covered his hand with hers. The sight tightened inside Christopher, coiling the spring holding him from orgasm.

  Dante’s grunts grew punctuated to a staccato beat, then faded into a long groan. The cushions shuddered when he came.

  Christopher grabbed Julie’s wrist and pulled her hand back to him. He didn’t care about the sticky mess she left when she fisted his shirt. He slammed inside her, slapping his pelvis against her thighs. She looked frozen in the moment. Enraptured. Stunning.

  He lowered his mouth to her neck and sucked along the sensitive skin. Her moan traveled through his veins, singing in his fingertips and toes. When he sought out her nipple and pinched, she screamed in pleasure. Her pussy clenched around his cock, milking him.

  Christopher couldn’t hold back. He let orgasm overtake him. A wash of sparkles danced in front of his eyes, and pressure spilled out, his balls tightening and then relaxing once he was spent.

  He stole another kiss from each of his partners, searing their flushed smiles into his memory along with the chorus of sounds that had evaporated from the room.

  “I think I made a mess of your T-shirt,” Julie said.

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