Playing For Forever: An Erotic Love Story (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

by J. C. Grant

  Fuck, if she makes me come just from this...

  My phone chimed, echoing loudly in the bathroom, shattering the moment.

  “Do you have to get it?” Her breathy complaint was sexy as hell.

  “Yeah,” I groaned, reluctantly pulling back.

  “Here,” Austin reached over, grabbing her phone from the nightstand.

  “No, I—” Before I could stop her, she opened the text.

  My breath froze in my chest as I waited.

  “Why is Fergus with my mom? Dawn’s in Denver?”

  “Austin—” I tried.

  “What the fuck?” She rolled over, grabbing the towel, getting off the bed and away from me as fast as she could.

  “Austin, come—”

  “What if that crazy bitch does something to her?”

  “Fergus wouldn't let that happen,” I swore solemnly.

  But Austin was unconvinced as she went on. “This was why you wanted me out of Denver! It was fucking urgent to get me out, but you left my mother there to deal with your bullshit!”

  The truth of her words slammed into me hard.

  I couldn't have felt lower.

  “No,” I denied, despite feeling she was right. “Austin, listen to me! I told her everything this morning. Why do you think Fergus is with your mom and not us? I'm taking care of both of you!”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Austin, stop it! I know you're mad, but your mom is fine. She chose to stay. She is safe. She's with Fergus.” I knew it was true, but it didn't feel true. It didn't feel right.

  “Fine,” she gritted out. After taking a deep breath, she glared at me. “You're still a piece of shit.”

  The venom in her voice was shocking, but deserved. I'd left her mother alone for thirty minutes, the time between us leaving and Fergus arriving, and I felt awful. But Evelyn was fine, thankfully, and I wasn't backing down. My priority was keeping Austin safe and away from Dawn.

  “For keeping you two safe?” I challenged, trying to make her stop and think about the situation. “For trying to keep you from worrying? Austin, you're overreacting. Calm down.”

  Austin

  “You lied to me!” I yelled, furious by his calm dismissiveness.

  “Austin, let it go.” He implored. “You really think that having you worried while we're spending the holidays with your mother would make me happy? Do you really think I was gonna let that happen? Let you spend the holidays worried?”

  “It's not up to you, David! You can't keep lying to me. You need to tell me these things. It's like you don't trust me. You constantly push me to tell you everything! You need to tell me what's going on in our lives. I feel like an idiot, the dumb wife you don't want to know anything!”

  “You know that's not true. You're just upset,” he placated me as he moved to the end of the bed. His voice was calculated and smooth, just like his movements, graceful like a predator.

  “Of course I'm upset, David!”

  “Take a deep breath and let's get back to where we were a few minutes ago,” he rasped, blowing me off, as if this was no big deal.

  “Stop downplaying this!”

  “Austin, stop it,” he warned as he slowly closed the distance between us. “Not gonna let you sit around and worry about that bitch, let her ruin our holiday—our first holiday season together. Now, let that shit go.”

  His quiet demand just pissed me off more.

  “Maybe this is my fault, because I let you dictate everything that we do in our lives. But fucking no!” I yelled, only inches from him.

  “Goddammit, Austin, drop it. Not talking about her again until after New Year's. Let it go,” he demanded with finality, staring down at me.

  I wasn’t quite sure what happened, but the next thing I knew, my palm made contact with his cheek, the sound deafening in the quiet room.

  Oh shit...

  His head barely moved, and I was pretty sure my hand hurt more than his face did.

  I started to apologize, but I couldn't form any words, too shocked by my actions.

  David looked down at my hand. Then his eyes met mine, narrowing dangerously. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. A noise rolled up out of him that I'd never heard before; that pissed-off bull sound, but softer, deeper, more sinister... and erotic.

  “Sweet girl, I like the way you play,” he growled.

  If it wasn't for his words, I would've been scared. His face... It looked as if I'd finally awoken that dark side I'd been craving weeks before, except what was looking at me was darker and more dangerous than I ever would've imagined David directing at me.

  “David—” I tried.

  He took a menacing step toward me. Automatically, I stepped back, but his hand shot out, catching my wrist.

  “You wanna run?” His voice was gravel and smoke; a rough, dark whisper that was threatening, challenging, and encouraging all at once. My nerve endings prickled with awareness, my heart rate kicked up, and my breathing turned shallow.

  I didn't respond, but I jerked back, attempting to do just that.

  The laugh that rumbled up out of him was ominous. He yanked me forward, slamming me into his bare chest. Hard. His fingers dug into my rib cage as he picked me up and hauled me back over to the bed. Throwing me down, he tore the towel from my grip.

  “Now,” he breathed, looking me over with the appreciation of a predator discovering its next meal.

  After a long, tense moment, he leaned over me, a hand coming down by my shoulder, the other wrapping around my throat. Squeezing. Not tight enough to choke, just enough to make my breathing labored under his palm.

  But it was the look on his face that pissed me off. That look was an infuriating mix of cockiness, possessiveness, and, above all, condescension.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was hitting his restraining arm with everything I had. Truly fighting him for the first time. But I didn't feel a shred of panic or concern, just defiance.

  He brought his face close to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my lips as he whispered harshly, “Again.”

  My heart and pummeling fists stilled as understanding dawned. His offer to let me struggle and fight, to work through my issues, wasn't just for me. He needed it too.

  “Please,” he ground out, but the underlying vulnerability and shame in his voice was heartbreaking.

  He’d given me everything I'd needed and more. I'd be damned if I didn't give him whatever he needed.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and focused on his hand at my throat, his body hovering above mine, his thighs pinning mine together. Then I thought of every degrading comment and unwanted grope I’d experienced through out my life. My body heated as all my pent up rage came to the surface.

  My eyes opened and my arm swung.

  I slapped him hard, my palm throbbing in protest as it met his sculpted jaw. Again. His dark gaze took on a heated look I’d never seen before, pulling me in.

  Suddenly, David's lips crashed down on mine, rough and demanding. His tongue thrust in, thick, hot and wet, fucking my mouth with obscene, deep licks.

  The hot rage coursing through me turned to vicious need, wanting his cock on my clit, in my cunt, fucking me with the same needy aggression.

  I reached for him, frantically pulling and tugging the waistband of his briefs, trying to free his length.

  His chest quaked with silent laughter.

  Infuriated, I blurted, “Fuck me.”

  He huffed out a breath, and I squirmed.

  “Fuck me, or get off me, and I’ll find someone else who will.”

  His expression went cold, his eyes narrowing, his jaw clenched.

  “If you want, I’ll let you watch,” I offered cruelly, hoping to get that anger back.

  He went still and a noise rumbled up out of him.

  That did it.

  Our mouths collided in what was the roughest, no holds barred kiss I’d ever experienced as he swore hotly into my mouth. “No one’s fucking you, but me.”


  It was the first time I’d ever tasted David. Truly tasted David. All of him...his passion, his anger, his need, his vulnerability... his hope. I’d never felt more connected to him. And I wanted to devour him, in all his flawed perfection.

  ****

  I don’t know how long we stayed like that, sprawled out across the comforter, both of us on our backs, trying to catch our breath. The fire place had the room nice and toasty, at some point one of us was going to have to get up and turn it off. But neither of us were making any moves. Neither of us had even looked at the other yet.

  “When did you know you were in love with me?” he asked, staring at the ceiling, finally breaking the long silence.

  “How do you know I am?” I teased, as I stared at the wood beams above us, looking for designs in the wood grain.

  “It's a hundred little things,” he murmured, solemnly.

  “Is that so? Like what?” I asked grinning, genuinely curious.

  “Like the fact that I just asked you do to something kinda fucked up, considering your past, and you did it.” His voice was low and rough and grateful.

  “Is that how you normally had sex before, I mean, with your arrangements?” I asked around the lump in my throat, afraid of the answer, afraid I hadn’t been satisfying him.

  He laughed, a deep throaty sound, then turned, looking over at me, giving me an amused half smile. “Fuck, no.”

  “Really?” I turned to him, surprised and relieved.

  He shook his head, holding my gaze. “I don't know where the hell that came from. Somewhere even I didn't know about.” He paused, sighing heavily. His hand ran over my stomach and down my thigh. “Everything with you is different. You open me up in ways I didn't know was possible. My behavior, my reactions, sexual needs... Goddamn, I feel like a fucking junkie, I crave it so much. It consumes everything I do. Wanting that connection with you.”

  An embarrassed groan bubbled up out of me. “Me too.” Then the reality of what had just done set in. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “I fucking loved it. You like it rough, right? Well, I like it rough too. And I like it even more when you fight and then surrender completely. And I like knowing that you're not afraid to hit me. You're not afraid I'll hit you back. Let's me know you trust me. And with your history... You trusting me like that... it's fucking profound.”

  I never thought of it like that, but he was absolutely right. The rough sex was proof I trusted him completely, and I hadn't even realized it.

  “What were you thinking about, to get there, to get that mad?” His voice was soft, his expression was expectant and sympathetic.

  I knew what he was asking. We never talked about it. Well, I never did. I didn't see the point. “Not that,” I responded a little too sharply. Then I decided to just tell him the truth. More of a warning. “If I’d thought of that, I would have curled up in a fetal position and cried. I wouldn’t have been mad.”

  His eyes told me he understood. It wasn’t something I was willing to think about, much less talk about.

  After a moment he smirked, shifting back to playful. “So, when did you realize you were in love with me?” he asked again.

  “I'm not sure. I know the night we got married it sank in, and it scared the shit out of me. But I was afraid of how strongly I felt toward you before that. I think I was trying not to realize I loved you... Why? When did you realize you were in love with me?”

  He laughed, a deep throaty rumble. “When you told me about Mr. Impressive... I freaked. The thought of some other asshole having you... I knew the first time I laid eyes on you, you were my wife. Like, I just knew. So the idea of you with someone else... Let's just say I wasn't coming over to your house that night to say hi.”

  “Shut up.” I laughed.

  “I'm serious.”

  “Well, that's just sad. I could’ve been an epic bitch.”

  He gave me a side eye look. “Uhh, sometimes you are.”

  “What?” I swatted at him playfully.

  “Oh, come on. I love it. Do you think I want someone who is eager to agree with everything I say or do?”

  I don't know how long we lay there in silence, my mind absorbing the full meaning and weight of what we’d just done. Then suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

  “So Dawn's the reason you don't want me to go downtown.”

  He made a soft growling noise as he rolled over, facing me. Then his fingers ran along my jaw, pushing into my hair, cradling the back of my head. Warmth bloomed in my chest at his gesture.

  “You wanna go downtown, I'll figure something out,” he promised quietly before placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

  It was silly; it was shopping. But the way he said it... I felt cared for, loved.

  “Thank you, baby,” I whispered against his lips.

  David turned over, grabbing my phone. He dialed a number then turned the phone on speaker.

  “Hey, how's everything?” David asked.

  “Good.” I heard Fergus' voice. “She checked into a hotel and hasn’t left.”

  I watched as David’s eyebrows pulled together, making that sexy W. He looked confused as he held my gaze. “And?”

  “I’m going to make sure she gets back to LA and stays there.” There was an eerie pause, before Fergus continued, “You go enjoy yourselves, I’ll take care of her.”

  As soon as David ended the call, I took my phone calling my mother.

  “Hey,” she answered brightly, too bright. She was obviously still trying to hide the situation from me.

  “Mom,” I sighed. “I know Fergus is there... and Dawn. I’m so sorry.”

  “Honey, it’s no big deal. Nothing happened. David explained everything to me last night.” She was so calm and understanding, it couldn’t help but feel the same.

  “I'm sorry—” I said again.

  “I'm fine. You guys go have fun.”

  “Okay,” I hedged.

  “I'm serious. Go do something fun. I'll talk to you later, love you.” Then the call ended.

  “Get dressed. We're going downtown,” David announced, getting out of bed.

  “Really?” I stared at his broad, sculpted back.

  “Yep.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Five weeks.

  We spent five blissful weeks in a winter wonderland, playing in the snow with Chance, cuddling in front of a fire and cooking meals together. It was near perfection, despite our reasons for going. David didn’t even complain when I took some time to write, allowing me to finish two episodes while sitting between his legs, using his chest for a backrest.

  It was also a much-needed vacation for my mom, as well as quality time for all of us. As scared as I’d been of her and David being around each other, I loved how close they had become.

  Aspen was exactly what we’d needed.

  But when we stepped back into our house, I couldn't help feeling a tiny bit of relief; I was ready to get back to our lives.

  While David made breakfast and took care of Chance, I took care of our luggage, putting everything away. When I returned, my breakfast was waiting for me on the kitchen island, where David was already eating.

  He had been quiet, pensive, the entire flight home. All two hours of it. I was struggling to find my bearings with him.

  He’s allowed to be moody, I reminded myself.

  After all, he’d just had his first family vacation. Ever. With people he’d known less than six months.

  Sitting next to him, I started eating without a word.

  “You're starting with Tracy tomorrow,” David informed me suddenly, in between bites. Then added, “But I'll be with you.”

  He was cute, acting like an overprotective parent. Tracy was the trainer he'd chosen for me. I didn’t know anything about her, other than David approved.

  “And I moved your colonic up to eleven.”

  “’Kay,” I agreed, relieved he was acting normal. Then I asked the question that had been on the tip of my tongue for the past two we
eks, “Hey, would you be cool if I asked Elaine to be my manager? She's done so much for me already.”

  “No, she's our publicist. It's a conflict of interest,” he dismissed, without a second thought.

  “No, it's not,” I countered. “Getting me work and making sure people see me in a certain light, it's the exact opposite of a conflict of interest.”

  “She's doesn't know anything about being a manager,” he argued.

  “Some people let their friends do it,” I replied incredulously. “And she has more connections than anyone I know, certainly more than any manager that’s ever taken a meeting with me.”

  He turned to me then, studying me carefully for a moment, before focusing on his plate. “Did you ask her already and you're coming to me after the fact?”

  “Nope, I haven't said anything to her about it. I wanted to check with you first,” I answered honestly.

  He blew out a long breath. Then his eyes met mine. “That's really what you want?” he checked.

  I nodded.

  “Okay, ask her.” He sounded tired.

  I leaned over and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, as if that was all he needed to feel better. “Thank you, babe,” I whispered.

  We finished breakfast in relative silence, then dressed for the gym.

  “Go ahead, I'll grab you a change of clothes and meet you there,” David directed when I emerged from the closet.

  “’Kay,” I hesitantly agreed. I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt with his abrupt dismissal. I knew we were driving separately, but something about him was still off. I only hoped it was jet-lag and not something more.

  I went ahead anyway, needing a moment alone. I'd finally decided what I was getting David for his birthday. Partly anyway. David had asked for a lap dance in Aspen, and I froze up, unsure what to do.

  Bottom line, I didn't deliver. So, for his birthday, he'd be getting the best fucking lap dance ever.

  I climbed in my car and headed to the gym. Halfway there, I called Tara.

  “Hey, lady,” Tara answered.

  “Hey, I was wondering...” I explained what I had in mind. She knew of one person who might be appropriate for my needs, a choreographer of a local burlesque group, who she met on a recent music video shoot.