Play Fling

by Amber Scott

  “Both.” His proximity vibrated through her.

  AJ tsked. “Seducing your target, is he?”

  “Don’t remind me.” And don’t stand so close. “Just pray Brooke comes to her senses and this ends up helping us instead of kicking my dismal ass.”

  “And a fine ass it is,” he said and left to his room.

  Millie sighed, feeling far better than she could have hoped. AJ’s lusty grin hadn’t even tripped her brain up. If anything, her mind began working better, new possibilities hatching. Able to breathe again, she shut the windows and found Jason Munkle’s file. With his, Brooke’s and Elliott’s all in front of her, surely something would crystallize.

  Like salvation.

  “My car won’t start,” Michelle pouted, leaning against the office doorframe. “Can you give me a jump?”

  Elliott rubbed his tired eyes. He had more couth than to call her a liar. “Where are you parked?”

  She probably spent the last twenty minutes figuring out how to unhook the cables. Once the lights dimmed and she confirmed the engine wouldn’t turn over, she’d likely sprinted back here to interrupt him and Brooke. Two minutes sooner and she might have.

  Conveniently close at the meters was where she’d parked. He, however, had parked in the E lot. There was no F lot. “It’ll take me a good fifteen minutes to get my car and another five to meet you back here.”

  “It’s kind of dark out. I can just come with you,” Michelle offered, her heels lifting off the floor. “I don’t want to wait alone.”

  No. Leaving her to wait alone wouldn’t do. Neither would simply calling campus security. He worked for her uncle. Elliott grabbed his shoulder bag, locked up and decided hoofing it the whole way might make her think twice before going to lengths to get his attention. He wished he didn’t feel so certain but, he just knew, she was up to something.

  Michelle kept up.

  Halfway there, she waved and hopped at the campus shuttle. It pulled over.

  He should have just called security for jumper cables and waited for them with her. But standing there, while the sun sank, his mind electric from stolen moments with Brooke as Michelle vied for his time, sounded miserable. He’d rather walk in zero below than stand around avoiding Michelle’s doe-eyed flirtation.

  It was his own fault. She was cute. Sweet. Eager. Going out for drinks with her hadn’t been harmless. Quite the opposite.

  They boarded and sat at the rear as the shuttle chugged to life.

  “I really appreciate this, Elliott. I’m such a girl when it comes to these things.” Michelle’s weight leaned against his. “I probably left the headlamp on again.”

  The driver looked at them in the bus-sized rearview mirror. “Your car dead again?”

  Michelle covered a giggle. “Yes. Twice in a month.”

  “You need to get that battery checked,” the driver advised. “Don’t just assume it’s your fault. Could be the alternator. Now that’ll really leave you stranded.”

  Elliott shifted in his seat. Shame on him for thinking the worst of her. “He’s right. You should get it checked.”

  He dug his phone from his pocket. Battery charged and at signal full bars? Check. Brooke might not be home yet, though. If she’d even gone home. She could be meeting her friend again for dinner like last week. Of course he’d remember that now. He’d suggested the place for drinks with Michelle the same night.

  Showing up at any cozy Italian eatery with a girl in tow wouldn’t have drawn the kind of conclusions he wanted, though. Michelle would’ve seen romance, interest, and so might’ve Brooke. He’d have looked like a jerk. Temptation had almost outweighed the jerk factor but, last minute, he’d opted for the sports bar up the street instead.

  “…and he was actually going to try to charge me six hundred and fifty dollars when it wasn’t broken or leaking at all. Can you believe that?”

  Shit. He hadn’t heard most of what she’d said.

  “Just need to take a guy in with you,” the driver said, pulling over to the bench stop. “Find a friend or a brother or somebody and take ‘em with you. Place’ll be straight with you then.”

  “Really? Just having a man there will help?” Michelle stood first, glancing hopefully at Elliott.

  Nope. Not him. He might be more street smart than any grad student on campus but Michelle had no rights to his hidden talents. He kept his mouth neatly shut as they de-shuttled and made to his car. Why couldn’t Brooke call now? Right in front of Michelle. He wouldn’t even have to have a conversation for Michelle to guess a woman was on the phone. His mom had taught him at least that much about women.

  No call.

  Once in his car, Elliott strapped on his seatbelt, feeling Michelle measuring him up for the proposed errand. Calculating how to snare him into a mechanic’s date fairly oozed from her pores. Ditch the glasses, throw on some jeans and a t-shirt…. “I know someone who can help you,” Elliott said, starting his car.

  “You do?” She leaned over, tucked her chin down. “And who might that be?”

  He was probably a jerk for not doing it himself, schoolgirl crush or not. “My cousin.” Sure. “Gordon.” After a workout, sweaty, his lawyer attitude up and running. Let him flex his straight muscles.

  Michelle sagged. “Your cousin? Um, great.”

  “I’ll call him now, in fact.” Elliott dialed and drove down to the front campus entrance. His mind added fast. Gordon knew Jason who knew Brooke. Somewhere in that equation, he could get her number. If she was going to call him, she would have by now. What they’d shared almost an hour ago wasn’t easy to walk away from and not immediately miss.

  Or was it? Was his body the only one demanding more?

  He left Gordon a message, pulled next to Michelle’s car and looked over in time for Michelle’s mouth to hit his. Her lips were full and soft and not Brooke’s. Elliott broke away. Hurt shone in her eyes. He slowly shook his head and took her hand. He couldn’t help but take her hand. Tears began spilling down her cheeks.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” He’d been pretty cold with her tonight. Ignoring her, resenting helping her. Resenting her for interrupting his chance with Brooke. He felt like a supreme jerk. “You just took me by surprise there.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.” Her words were soft hiccups. Even crying, she spoke through a smile. “I just thought we really had a good time the other night and I guess I thought you liked me.”

  Jackass! How did he get himself in this? What, to protect his position? To soothe his tattered ego? Hell, he hadn’t even had designs on Brooke until he thought he could come to her rescue. Then to buy her the books and expect her to fall at his feet in love? Then when she didn’t, he took Michelle out.

  Elliott squeezed Michelle’s hand. This was his own damned fault. “Let’s get your car started.”

  He didn’t want to spell it out, leading her on or not. He wanted to be done with work and school and waiting, miserable and kicking himself, for a phone call. Right time, wrong girl.

  Michelle’s lower lip quivered. “Can I ask you something?”

  Elliott ran a hand through his hair and shut off the engine. He nodded.

  “Am I pretty?”

  “What? What kind of question is that?” Hot guilt percolated down his shoulders. “Of course you’re pretty. Why would you even ask me that?”

  Her eyes gave him a fresh downpour. “Then what is wrong with me?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Michelle.” Resentment peeled through him. Calculated or not, Elliott smelled manipulation tactics. “Who said anything was wrong with you?”

  He got out and popped his trunk. Jumper cables lay under his gym bag. By the time he shut the trunk, he was preparing to straight out ask her to exit his car. Through the rear window, her shoulders heaved.

  Throwing the cables on the pavement and screaming in frustration wouldn’t help. Instead, he gritted his teeth and knocked on her window. He motioned her out, vowing to keep this simp
le, no matter how mean she made him feel for it.

  The image of her intentionally draining or disconnecting her battery came back. With no good reason to draw such a conclusion outside of his gut reaction to her, he swallowed it down. Didn’t matter either way. Whatever miniscule interest he ever could have had in her died with that single question.

  Did he think she was pretty? How could he explain what a turn off it was? Why bother? She needed self esteem and he couldn’t give her any. Telling her the truth would only make it worse.

  After an exaggerated moment, Michelle got out and went to her car. Her sniffles rustled above the breeze blown leaves. Elliott waited for the hood to pop, keeping his gaze on it.

  Michelle leaned out the window. “I’m not sure how to open the hood. Can you help me?”

  Elliott rolled back on his heels but nodded. He took her seat behind the wheel, noticed the keys dangling from the ignition. Hey, why not? Before she could protest, he tested his idea, turning them. The car hiccupped to life. Elliott got out, but stepped into a face full of sweater-clad cleavage as Michelle lunged in for a grateful hug.

  “I can’t believe it. How did you do that?”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, urging him to disentangle from her perfumed arms. She held on tight enough for her feet to leave the ground, unperturbed by his lack of response or the fact that he was digging for his phone.

  He bent to get her feet grounded, unwound her arms. “Unknown number” flashed on his phone screen. It vibrated. He answered, too dumbfounded with relief to wait until he parted Michelle’s way.

  “Hello?”

  “Elliott? Hi. It’s Brooke.”

  Brooke! “Hi! I thought it might be you.” Elliott fought not to grunt and tugged free.

  Michelle stared up, hope and pleading mixed in her eyes. Her eyes lingered on the phone. “Oh Elliott. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Is this a bad time?” Brooke asked.

  “No. Not at all. I’m just leaving campus, now.”

  Michelle looked ready to try anything. Elliott’s gut tightened. “Can you hold on for a second?” he asked Brooke. “Don’t hang up though, alright?”

  Silence. “Okay. But, don’t break her heart on my account.”

  His gut punched. He lowered the phone and met Michelle’s gaze. “Sorry, Michelle. This is important. No thanks necessary, okay? I have to go.”

  She hugged herself, and stepped back. He could almost hear the gears turning though, so he left fast. Car in reverse, Michelle in the rearview mirror, Elliott put the phone back to his ear.

  “Sorry about that.” He shifted into drive. “Brooke? Are you still there?”

  Chapter Ten

  “Okay. But don’t break her heart on my account,” Brooke said. Had she actually said that? What was Michelle thanking him for anyway? And why do it so loudly?

  Brooke stared at the ceiling. Her body zinged from the adrenaline pumping through her. Over a simple phone call? Granted, this call went beyond simple. Calling Elliott meant so many things. Primarily, the possibility of a sexual encounter with her professor’s assistant. No, no more lies. There’d be sex. Secret sex. Lots of it. Unless she found the strength to convince him they shouldn’t, in fact, commit such a sin.

  Oh, but what a sweet sin he’d be.

  Then there was the age gap. Grand Canyon big? Or just a nice little gulch? She didn’t even want to know how big it was. If she did give in to the lust begging her for attention, would once be enough? Doubtful.

  The sound of his voice in the background rushed her with adrenaline. Still on hold, hope swarmed her chest. He sounded rushed. She recognized Michelle’s nasal pitch. Her hope angled downward, sending a wave of nausea up. Brooke shifted her weight against her headboard and adjusted the phone. Sampson hopped onto her lap.

  Elliott did things to her.

  Before he’d kissed her. Before he’d ever touched her, he’d exposed an intensity for her, making her feel singularly desired. She’d never felt this before.

  She had to call. How else could she ever show her face on campus? Oh, yes. Campus. Another risk. Showing her face there, after a torrid—spectacular, carnal—night in his arms, then seeing him and being forced to act casual would be too awkward.

  She didn’t want to have to avoid campus. She planned on taking more classes. And the Book Exchange, her cathedral. She loved it there. Still, she had to call.

  Rationally, she knew better than to feel competition with the girl. Too young, too naïve and, in truth, had nothing to envy Brooke over. Elliott should be dating someone like Michelle, kissing her in his boss’s office. They’d have loads in common. Not Brooke.

  The image of him looking at Michelle the way he had looked at her drove uncomfortable warmth over her shoulders. She stood up and rubbed one.

  Holding. Waiting. Mere seconds stretched like an eternity. Words stuck in her throat. Her ears strained to hear. Nothing but muffles. All sorts of unwanted images fogged her brain. Michelle pawing his chest, simpering for a kiss.

  She looked at her phone. Still connected. Should she hang up? She didn’t know what to say to him, even now, even after a litany of why not’s. Her heart stung with raw emotions. Lust. Jealousy. Hope.

  Her short drive home, she’d tried to drown out the noise he’d created in her body. In her soul. Ridiculous that one hot kiss had unraveled her. She’d found a familiar song, turned the volume up, and shouted out the lyrics. She wanted him and it went beyond her body’s reaction to his mouth. It went deeper. She wanted to mark him as hers despite having no intention of keeping him. Don’t let others have him, urged her primal parts.

  “Brooke? Are you still there?”

  She exhaled. Craziness wasn’t like her. Brooke paced her room, tension tightening in her limbs with each step. He’d come over this minute if she asked. She could have every last living inch of him, all hers, to explore. To take. “Yes. I’m still here.”

  And he could have her. One long, thorough, inconsequential night. Sheryl Crow’s song echoed through her mind. You’re my favorite mistake. Maybe it was time she made one.

  Elliott half sighed, half laughed on the other end. “I’m glad you called,” he said.

  She smiled. “Me too.”

  Now what? Invite him over? Beg him to be the sensible one? Sell him on all the reasons she couldn’t sleep with him—no, make that kiss him—again?

  “I didn’t think you would,” he said.

  “You didn’t?” Brooke sat back down on her bed and patted Sampson’s head. Shadows of branches moved out her window. “Why not?”

  His car revved. A grinding sounded. “I don’t know. Insecurity, I suppose.”

  Yeah, right. A guy like him? With girls like Michelle in the Elliott-can-I-please-be-next waiting room? “Interesting,” she said.

  “So….”

  Brooke’s cheeks began to hurt from smiling. “So.” God, did she actually want to tease him? Maybe just a little. “I was calling to ask if you knew what today’s assignment was. I missed class.”

  A thump sounded. She imagined his hand hitting the wheel, and stifled a giggle.

  “Nope,” he said. “I can’t say that I do. Shope isn’t one to fill me in, though. You should call him. Find out.”

  Aw. He sounded a little mad. “Do you have his office number?” She bit her lip.

  A breath hissed over the line. “Not off the top of my head. But, you know, Brooke, I’ll bet he’d let you slide.”

  She liked this game. Even more that he’d started playing it. “Oh?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I would,” he said, a toe curling octave lower. “Besides, I may know a way for you to skip the assignment and not suffer.”

  Oh, man. He was good at this. She might be in over her head. Speaking of head, she needed to clear it and get back to business. The kiss. And what they would do about it.

  “Tell me you’re close to me,” he said.

  How could a voi
ce be so sexy? “What do you mean?” she teased.

  “Tell me you live close to campus and that I can be there within minutes.”

  She did. He could. Brooke bit her lip. “Seventh street. Just off McCarran.”

  “See that? Destiny.” He paused. “I just happen to be right down the street from you and after I flip a u-turn at the next light, I’ll be two minutes away.”

  She gulped. Her heart thudded upward. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Never,” he said.

  She glanced around. Her place was a discarded clothing disaster area. A cold sweat broke over her neck.

  “Will you give me your address?” he said. “Better yet, if I come over now, will you let me in?”

  Musical, seductive words. She calculated how much scurried cleanup she could manage in less than five minutes. Probably enough if she kicked some into the closet, more under the bed. She’d just have to be sure not to forget about them.

  New consequences from telling him where she lived, knowing him so short a time, leapt to mind. How was she going to find her way out of this forbidden forest?

  You are my favorite mistake. “Just promise me you’re not a deranged criminal first.”

  “Boy scout’s honor, cross my heart.”

  Hers skipped.

  With a deep breath, she plunged on. Address given, Brooke hung up and cleaned. A toothbrush to get her mouth kiss-ready. Laundry hidden. Deodorant on. Black panties? No. Wait. She was only allowing kissing. At most some heavy petting. Nothing so intimate as panties showing. After really, really trying to make him understand why anything between them was a really, really bad idea. What panties was she wearing again? Lacy thong. Good.

  He knocked.

  She squealed. She couldn’t help it. After giving her hands a good shake out and smoothing her hair, she opened the door.

  Glasses low, shoulder braced against the frame, Elliott smiled lopsidedly. “Hi,” he said.

  She stepped back for him to enter with a shrug, all she could muster. Revealing how thrilled she was to see him—right there, alive and breathing on her very doorstep—couldn’t be a good idea. Where was her cool when she needed it most?