Game Player

by B. J. Harvey

  I pull out and shift sideways, bracing myself with an elbow against the bed, my weight half on/half off Mia.

  “We need to talk,” I say, and the irony is not lost on me. Those are the words that used to have me running for the hills. Four words that have the reverse effect of Viagra. Ever get stuck with a hard-on you can’t get rid of? Just imagine a woman saying that to you and you’ll be cured.

  “You’re having a good run, Matt. Don’t fuck it up now,” she chides.

  “That right there proves why I need to say it.”

  “Can’t you just roll over and go to sleep like any other man?” she says, biting her lip.

  “Legs, what happened today?”

  Her eyes, which were watching me, dart away. “What do you mean?” she asks as she shifts in the bed, but expecting her evasive behavior, I preempt her move by hooking my leg over hers. “Hey! What are you doing?” Her voice is higher than normal.

  I hook my fingers under her chin, her gaze jerking back to mine. Running my thumb over her bottom lip, I drag it down slowly. “You want this to be wrong but to me, it’s always been right.”

  Her eyes flash with uncertainty. “But you don’t do this sort of thing, Matt.”

  “Do what?”

  “Relationships . . . stay with one snatch only,” she contends. I let her observation stand for a moment, silence stretching between us before I hit my stride and go for honesty, blunt honesty.

  “I haven’t, that’s true. But it’s not like you’ve ever given a guy a chance either.”

  She opens her mouth but snaps it shut again, and for the first time since I’ve known her, I swear she’s lost for words. “I . . .”

  I lean against her, moving my hand down and wrapping it around the back of her neck. “It’s all you, Mia.” I pause to watch her face go lax and her eyes soften. “You’re different from the rest. I tried to resist the temptation, but all it took was one taste and you had me. Everywhere I look, everything I do, every spare moment of every single fucking day, all I see is you. All I want is you.”

  “Maybe,” she breathes. I let my declaration hang between us, wanting my words to sink in. “I don’t know what you want me to say—”

  “Don’t say anything. Just open your eyes to what’s happening between us. You’re not a game, Mia. Not to me. Not anymore. I wouldn’t be here with you now if I wasn’t dead fucking serious about you.” I give her neck a gentle squeeze. “And about us . . .”

  Without looking away, I drop my head down, brush my lips against hers before kissing her forehead. I let her go and roll out of the bed, pulling my jeans on before turning back to face her. “Now, after that mind-blowing make-up sex, I’m fucking starving, and I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet.” She shakes her head but doesn’t move; it’s as if my declaration has shocked the shit out of her. If it has, all the better, because it might finally get her past these hang-ups she’s got about seeing me.

  “Well then, I’m going to cook you dinner. Meet me in the kitchen.”

  Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting on the counter drinking a glass of white wine, wearing nothing but Matt’s T-shirt and a pair of black satin panties. Matt is shirtless—obviously—and stirring a tomato-based pasta sauce he made from scratch after raiding my cupboards for ingredients.

  The anger that was there when he first turned up on my doorstep earlier tonight has gone, and now I’m being treated to the soft side of Matt. The one that poured me a glass of wine, ordered me to wear his T-shirt, along with my panties and nothing else, and lifted me up so that my ass was planted on the kitchen counter while he cooked us dinner.

  “So your mom taught you how to cook?”

  “Yep,” he says. “I think she just wanted to make sure we could feed ourselves once we left home. Noah went to college in New York, so he was too far away for home-cooked meals from Mom. Thankfully, I stayed in Chicago, so I made the most of Mom wanting to cook.” He shoots me a grin and puts the spoon down, then stalks across the kitchen toward me, not stopping until my thighs are around his hips, and his hardening boy part that I can still feel the after-effects of pushes right up against my super-sensitive girl part.

  “I’ll have to thank your Mom when I meet her then.”

  He buries his face in my neck, kissing me soft and slow along my sensitive skin, turning me on again, even though it’s barely been half an hour since he was last inside me.

  “We should talk about this afternoon,” I murmur, biting my lip to stifle a moan as he nips my collarbone.

  “I liked the way we didn’t talk before,” he replies gently.

  “I did too, but fucking our frustrations away doesn’t seem healthy.”

  “Angry sex that turns into make-up sex like that can’t be anything but healthy.”

  “Why were you angry at me?” I ask, and he freezes before lifting his head up.

  “You didn’t want to tell your family—or anyone—about us. I was pissed off because I thought you didn’t believe me when I said I wanted what’s happening between us.”

  My head jerks back. “You surprised me,” I whisper.

  “You said you needed time. I gave you time, but obviously not enough,” Matt says matter-of-factly.

  I lift my hands up to frame his face. “Matthew Taylor, I wanted time as just the two of us so that we could be together without any stress or hassle from Noah or Zoe, Zander or Dani.”

  “I get it, Legs. You didn’t want the complications of being together to stop us from being together.”

  “Yes. Is that so bad?” I ask. And I’m not sure you can be with just one woman, I don’t say.

  “No,” he replies with a devilish grin. “It does make me want to kiss you though.”

  “What’s stopping you then?”

  “Absolutely fucking nothing.”

  “One more thing,” I say quickly, recognizing the hungry look in Matt’s eyes telling me I’m gonna get some but I have to say it. I need to say it.

  “What’s that?” he asks, furrowing his brows adorably. I take a deep breath, walk up to the metaphorical cliff’s edge, and with one final look to the abyss below, jump right into the deep end.

  “I really like you. I need you to take care of this,” I wave my hand between us, “of me . . .”

  “I really like you too, Legs,” he says. “I really like kissing you, as well.” Then he slants his head and slams his mouth down on mine, hard and fast, deep and hungry, long and deliciously good. In fact, we only stop when the buzzer on the oven goes off for dinner.

  The next day I decide to call my mom to both check in with her and also steal the benefit of her wisdom.

  “Hey Mom.”

  “Mia, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.” No wait, that’s a piss poor excuse. “Actually, I have been busy, but that’s no excuse for not calling you.”

  “I know you have a life, sweetheart. You’re a grown woman living in a big city; you don’t think your ol’ Mom doesn’t know that you have a life of your own to live?”

  “Mom . . .” I say softly when her voice cracks.

  “I’m okay.” She sighs. “Just hearing from you and Dani today has made me realize how much I miss you all.”

  “We miss you, too.”

  “Okay, enough of that. I don’t need to be getting all emotional. How have you been? Have you had any second dates? How’s my gorgeous grandson doing?”

  “Whoa, let’s break all of that down. Nate is good and I am good,” I reply with a smile. “And I’ve kind of started seeing someone.”

  “Dani was hinting at something earlier. She said something about Noah’s brother?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mom laughs, shocking the shit out of me. “My Mia, never one to take the easy route.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, mildly offended.

  “As a child, you never wanted to do anything that was too simple. You chose high jump over track, the French horn over any other instrument. If i
t was a challenge, you were first in line to give it a go. So it’s not surprising you’ve fallen for Noah’s brother.”

  “Who are you and where is my mom?” I ask, exasperated.

  “So tell me, why are you only kind of seeing him? You need to stop this kind of business.”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I can’t get my head around it.”

  “Are you not interested in him?” she asks, and I have to laugh because there’s no way I could ever not be interested in Matt.

  “I’ve been interested in him for almost as long as I’ve known him. Then something happened five weeks ago and we kissed. Since then, things have . . . progressed, somewhat.”

  “I don’t wanna know how they progressed but sweetheart, it’s still early days. If he makes you happy and treats you right, I don’t see a problem. Why are you looking for one?”

  God, I love my mom. “You don’t think it’s weird that he’s Noah’s brother?”

  “It could just be a fateful coincidence. Just think, if you end up marrying him, you’ll share families. At least you know you’ll get on with your in-laws,” she adds with a giggle.

  Married? In-laws? “Mom, you’re kinda freaking me out even more now. I’m not marrying the guy! Jeez,” I huff, sounding like a petulant child.

  “You listen to me, Mia Helen Roberts. I know you were affected by your father’s death and what he did before that. I’ve never made him out to be a saint because he wasn’t one, but he loved me and he loved you kids. He had an addiction and that led to him making poor life choices.”

  “He cheated on you, Mom. Repeatedly.”

  “I don’t want you to let that influence what you do with your life and the choices you make within it.”

  “Mom . . .” My mother’s ability to read me is just as uncanny as it is annoying. She’s the only one in my family that has ever broached the real reason for my reluctance.

  “Let me finish,” she says, in the very familiar mom voice that never fails to get one’s attention. “Mia, you won’t be truly happy until you open yourself up and let something—or maybe someone—help you along the way. If Matt is willing to try, why not give him a chance? What do you have to lose?”

  “My sanity? My dignity? My self-respect?”

  “Say what you mean, Mia . . .” she says encouragingly.

  “My heart . . .” I murmur, admitting my biggest fear out loud for the first time. “He says and does all the right things, Mom, and I’m falling for him already. If he’s in this with me for a good time, not a long time, it’ll shatter me.”

  “You’re not living any life at all if you don’t open yourself up to it. A broken heart will always heal. It may never be the same, but it will always get put back together. Some of the pieces might not fit, and parts may be wonky, but it will continue beating.” My mother, always the sage. “And besides, if all else fails, you’ve always got me, Zan, Zoe, and Danika. With us at your back, you can take on the world. Or in this case, Matt Taylor.”

  I don’t know what I’d do without this woman.

  “He’s taking me to his parents’ anniversary party tonight.”

  “And you still don’t think he’s serious?”

  “I think he wants to be serious. He thinks he wants something more with me, but since he’s never had anything more with anybody, I know he’s not cut out for it.”

  “Mia,” Mom warns, “I did not raise you to be a pessimist. How do you know what he thinks? How do you know whether he’s cut out for it or not?”

  I go to argue with her but stop, taking her words to heart and realizing that—yet again—my mom is right.

  “Stop being right all the time,” I grumble half-heartedly.

  “Stop being stubborn and cut the poor boy some slack.”

  “Okay,” I reply, and look up from the couch where I’m sitting to see the time on my wall clock. “Shit! I’ve gotta go get ready. Matt’s gonna be here in an hour!”

  “Alright, sweetheart. Have fun, free the mind, and most of all, remember I’ll always love you.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Love you, too. Talk soon.”

  “I’m coming up next weekend. I’m missing my grandbabies.”

  I smile. “Well, I’ll see you then.”

  “Go get ready, Mia. Wear something that’ll surprise him. Just because I want you to give him a chance doesn’t mean you can’t keep him on his toes.” There she goes again—Mom advice to live by.

  “Bye, Mom,” I say, then end the call before jumping up and rushing to my room.

  After showering, dressing, undressing, dressing again—and repeating this process ten times—I finally choose a not-too-clingy, not-too-sexy-but-still-sexy-enough charcoal gray dress with three-quarter sleeves and a low scoop neck that falls into a pencil skirt, ending just above the knee. My hair is clipped to one side with a wave of curls flowing around my shoulders, and I have smoky eyes that give the demure look a sultry edge.

  I just finish putting small diamond studs in my ears when my doorbell rings. My stomach is filled with butterflies as I make my way over to the door and turn the handle to see Matt looking hot as hell. So much so I have to grab hold of the door, because my knees literally go weak.

  “Hi,” I say breathlessly.

  “Fuck,” he says. “Fuck . . .” he repeats, this time more slowly. He moves toward me, his eyes raking over my body from head to toe, fixating on the bare skin of my legs up to the small peek of cleavage showing at my chest, then to the glossy peach lipstick accentuating my lips.

  His hands go to my hips, and he moves me out of the doorway. His eyes blaze with heat, and I fight the Matt haze when it registers that if I don’t stop him, we won’t make the party at all.

  “Matt . . .” I warn, my voice lacking the conviction needed as he continues to move me backwards until I hit a wall.

  His body pushes into mine and he drops his head down, then slowly runs his nose along my collarbone and up my neck, sending a delicious shiver through my entire body. “Fuck, you smell good, too,” he groans, his warm breath fanning across my skin.

  “Matt, we need to go . . .” I whisper, and any resistance I had melts away when his tongue touches that secret spot below my ear causing a low—and desperate—moan to escape my lips.

  Then his lips are on mine, his body pressed hard up against me, and I know by the way his hand grips the back of my head that I’ll need to fix my hair before we leave.

  “You have to change,” he groans. His words don’t make sense to me because if his hard cock rubbing up against me is anything to go by, I’d have thought he really liked my dress.

  I put my hands on his chest and push him back. “What’s wrong with my dress?”

  “That dress is a walking hard-on waiting to happen. I can’t turn up to my parents’ house with a nine-inch tent in my pants.”

  A giggle bubbles up inside my chest, and as hard as I try to stop it, the thought of Matt trying to walk around inconspicuously with an erection is just far too funny.

  “I’m serious,” he says, his eyes dropping to my no doubt lipstick-smeared mouth.

  “And you’re delusional if you think that there’s a shit-show in hell’s chance that I’m going to change now, especially with the possibility of your cock providing entertainment all night.”

  He shakes his head at me, grinning wide as he dips his mouth down to kiss me hard and fast. “Okay, no changing, but I need to fuck you before we leave. At least if I take the edge off, it might lessen the chance of me embarrassing the guys and scaring the women.”

  I snort in response. “My shower’s through there if you want to whack one off on your own, but there is no way I’m getting undressed again. You’ll just have to wait until after the party.”

  Moving quicker than I can react, he crowds me back into the wall, trapping my hands between us as his arms rest above my head. “You inviting me to stay the night?” he asks, his voice dropping to a loud whisper.

  “Since when do I have to invite you to stay over? You us
ually just climb into my bed,” I reply, but I know that’s not what he’s asking. I lift my eyes up to meet his, flexing my fingers against the soft material of his shirt and feeling the tense muscles underneath. His jaw is tight, and his chest rises and falls quickly as his expression turns more serious while his eyes on me stay soft.

  I take a deep breath, my heart beating hard, and I swallow down the nervous lump in my throat before giving him an honest answer. “Yeah . . . I want you to stay.”

  “Just tonight?” he pushes.

  Lifting up on my toes, I press my lips against his and murmur, “Not just tonight.”

  “Thank God,” he whispers. His muscles relax and the tension leaches out of him. He really wants this with me.

  With my mouth against his, my tongue traces the seam of his lips and on a groan, he opens up and lets me kiss him. As is his way, Alpha Matt doesn’t let this stand for very long and soon it’s his tongue in my mouth, battling for supremacy in a game he’s already won.

  “We need to go,” he says, taking a step back, completely unembarrassed by the obvious nine-inch tent no longer being pressed into me.

  “What about that?” I ask, with a nod to said pyramid of erectile pantship.

  “That we can deal with in the car on the way there,” he says with a smirk, before grabbing my hand and leading me out to his truck. “You can fix your hair then, too.”

  The closer we get to his parents’ house, the more nervous I get. My stomach is tied in knots and my hands become sweaty. I try to distract myself by watching the scenery pass us by but that just makes me nauseous, so I look forward and concentrate on the horizon.

  “Quit thinking and just go with it,” Matt says warmly. He reaches over the console and grabs hold of my clammy hand, lacing our fingers together and holding on as we turn into a wide circular driveway. He pulls up beside a ginormous mansion that has actual pillars along the front of it. It’s gorgeous, ostentatious, and staggering all at once.

  “Okay, I think I’ve officially changed my mind about all of this.” I try to pull my hand back but Matt tightens his grip. I turn my head to ask him to kindly return my hand back to its rightful owner, but am confronted by the sexiest dimple-cheeked smirk I have ever seen—even from Matt—and I lose track of my train of thought. Dumbfounded and totally cock-dumb, I just stare at him.