Players

by Rachel Cross

  Brice picked up his saxophone and began absently stroking the keys while he considered his next move. Nash took great pleasure in harassing people and making their lives miserable. Maybe he should have a taste of what it feels like when the tables are turned. Brice knew people—people who could ask questions, make insinuations, and stir up all manner of trouble for somebody with a questionable or unsavory background. He reached for the phone.

  “Hi, Blaine. It’s Brice. Got a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure, man. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a problem, and I think maybe you can help me solve it.”

  “Well, let’s hear what you got.”

  “It’s kind of complicated. I don’t want to go into it over the phone.”

  “Okay then, come by the office.”

  “This isn’t an office kind of visit. It’s personal. Let me buy you lunch, and we can discuss it.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is.”

  “How about Casio’s? Tomorrow, say, around noon?”

  “That’ll be great. I’ll see you there.”

  • • •

  Brice arrived early and was waiting when Blaine showed up fifteen minutes later. They ordered drinks and their meal before getting down to the reason for the meeting.

  “So tell me, my man, what can I do for you? You sounded pretty grim over the phone.”

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Brice said after taking a long swig from his drink. “Remember the last time we saw each other, just after you’d gotten back into town?”

  “Oh yeah. How could I forget? You were having dinner with that fine sister, and I was jealous as hell,” he joked. “I remember some guy tried to make a move on her while you were hanging with me. I watched you two have a faceoff, and then he left.”

  “That’s why I called you. The situation is still ongoing. Her name is Candace, and the guy is a former lover who’s turned into a big problem for her—and me.”

  “Wait. It’s been what, nearly two months since that night. Are you telling me you’re still with the same woman . . . for two months?” Blaine sat back in his seat, apparently in shock.

  Brice winced inwardly at his friend’s surprise. “Yes, it’s been about that,” he responded evenly. He had no intention of discussing the details of their relationship, but he would have to give up something if he was going to ask for help. “We’ve been seeing each other off and on for a while. I like her company, and she likes mine. And the sex is great. The problem is that a while back her house was broken into and vandalized, and I have every reason to believe it was the guy from the restaurant.”

  “How did you come to that conclusion?” Blaine asked.

  “The guy is an asshole. I knew it the moment I met him. She already ended the relationship, and he’s been harassing her ever since.”

  Brice explained how his suspicions had prompted him to call his private investigator, and then he quietly filled Blaine in on the specifics of Rick’s report. He conveniently left out his invitation to stay for the weekend. He wasn’t about to admit to the overwhelming feelings he was developing for her—or the fast and furious emotional ride he’d been on since that fateful first meeting.

  “The incriminating information Rick’s gathered on this guy doesn’t bode well for Candace. I don’t think she’s heard the last of him. According to Rick, the break-in is a warning that things could escalate. He needs to be stopped. Considering his mental state of mind and hidden criminal past, I’m concerned he might not stop at just trying to scare her.”

  “What did the police say?”

  “Unfortunately, the lack of incriminating evidence ruled out any help from the police. I’m left to employ my own methods of protecting Candace.” Brice spoke with cold, calculating calmness. “Andrew Nash needs to be taught a couple of lessons. One, that he’s not the only person capable of screwing with someone’s life, and two, that he won’t keep getting away with it. I want him to know what it feels like to have his life turned upside down for no reason.” The look in Brice’s eyes hardened. “I want him to know what it feels like to be fucked with.”

  “Okay, so let’s say you’re right. What do you need me for?”

  “He has a high-profile job in the medical industry with a pristine reputation to look out for, which means he can’t afford rumors or accusations to come to light. The way I see it, this is right up your alley, seeing as how your law firm happens to represent the same company.” Brice dropped that little bombshell and picked up his drink to take another swallow. “You’d be duty-bound to uphold company policy and inform them of indiscrete behavior within the ranks. You know, to prevent potential lawsuits, complaints, things of that nature.”

  Blaine’s eyes narrowed with interest at Brice’s revelation.

  “Are you saying this nutcase works for us?”

  “Yeah, well, he works for your client. And I’m guessing this is the type of information they’d want to be made aware of. Am I right?”

  Blaine gave Brice a probing look. “I’ll need a copy of that report. I can’t make allegations without something to back them up.”

  “I’ll have Rick send it to your office.”

  “I’ll also need copies of the police report and any photos taken of the damage. The more information I have, the better the case I can build against him.”

  “I told you, there’s no proof he’s responsible.”

  “It doesn’t matter. If I can plant a seed of suspicion in the minds of the board members, that’s all I need to set the ball rolling. Hey, I’m a lawyer. He doesn’t have to be tried in a court of law. The court of public opinion is way more effective when it comes to handing out judgment.”

  “Thanks, man. I’m glad you’re willing to check this out. But I want you to hold off on taking any action just yet. You’re my ace in the hole, and I’m not ready to show my hand.”

  “No problem, I can do that. But I still want that information as soon as possible to conduct my own investigation. What about Candace?”

  “What about her?” Brice was suddenly defensive.

  “I want to know her role in all of this. How do you know she didn’t do something to set this guy off? Maybe she pushed him and didn’t realize he had a short fuse. Or maybe she’s using you to get an old lover off her back. Are you sure she’s worth all the time and trouble you’re putting into this?”

  “She didn’t do anything to set this fucker off. He’s a mental case, plain and simple. It was just her bad luck she ended up with the wrong guy. She’s not ‘using me’ because she doesn’t even know that I had him investigated. And yes. She’s worth every second of my time and trouble.”

  Chapter 21

  It had been two weeks since they’d made love, and Brice was practically going out of his mind with wanting her. He’d never, ever before in his life needed sex. Sex was a pastime, a means to satisfy an urge and take the edge off, and there was no shortage of willing partners just waiting for his call. Need was never a part of the equation. This new inability to control his desire and fantasies was shocking—and unsettling.

  He’d lain awake too many nights imagining her supple body lying beneath him, supine, submissive, and open to his touch, his invasion. He visualized her beautiful face twisted in pleasure as he surged in deep and steadily pushed her to the brink of her endurance and beyond. And when she fell over the edge, out of control and writhing in his arms, he shivered at the sound of her voice as it rang out sweetly and she sang her orgasm in his ears.

  Brice brushed a hand over his face and groaned out loud while his cock twitched and throbbed painfully to life. The memory of her moist channel gripping him hard and squeezing tight, pulsating around his thickened member as she milked him dry, nearly drove him insane.

  Her essence was a living thing that vibrated in the air around him. Her natural scent of honey and spice lingered in his nose and filled his mouth with the sweetness of her taste. The thought of her made him burn and ache for her tang and tou
ch. She’d slipped under his skin and inside his heart without warning. Candace was like a drug. He’d gotten hooked with his first adventurous taste, and like an addict he was stuck on the edge between what was imagined or real, desperate for his next fix.

  He reached for the phone to call her, unable to resist the pull that drew him in against his will. He had to hear her voice. As he punched in the number, his defiant claim to David that he “wasn’t going down without a fight” rang loudly in his ears. Where was that grit and determination now? For all his bluff and bluster, he hadn’t put forth much effort to salvage his pride or his freedom.

  “I don’t believe you’ve been keeping up your end of our friends-with-benefits agreement,” he said when she answered the phone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to see you. I’m tired of waiting and hearing that you’re too busy to make time for me. With all these excuses, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were avoiding me. I’m a patient man, Candace, and I don’t normally think with my dick, but lately all I can think about is having you in my bed, lying under me with your hands tangled in my hair and your legs wrapped around my waist. I want to be in your arms and buried deep inside you. Right now.”

  His voice, deliberately pitched low and husky, exuded an infinite hunger intended to make her toes curl and her vaginal walls twitch and contract. He knew what it did to her. He dropped his voice lower and practically growled into the phone. He wasn’t beyond playing dirty or pulling out all the stops. Why should he be the only one suffering?

  “I think I’ve been a damn good friend over the past few weeks, but I haven’t received any of those benefits we discussed. You’ve been holding out on me, babe. This was your idea, and I intend to reap my fair share of those promised rewards.”

  “I’m sorry. How incredibly inconsiderate of me,” she responded playfully. The sound of her teasing laughter rang in his ear. The familiar feeling of heat gathered in his gut and went straight to his groin, stabbing him with a thousand painful bursts of red-hot pleasure. “I didn’t realize I was in breach of our agreement.”

  “How can you live without me? You do it so well, and it bothers me,” he replied gruffly, his tight control unraveling further at the melodic sound of her voice. “Woman, don’t make me beg. I expect to see you tonight, and the only thing I need to hear from you is ‘My place or yours?’”

  “Um, I think playtime at your place will be perfect. I love romping around in that playground you call a king-sized bed. And,” she breathed wickedly into the phone, “I can’t wait to see the master in his master bedroom.”

  His blood pressure spiked and his temperature rose as the sleeping dominant in him raised its head and stirred. “Be careful what you ask for. I may feel obliged to see that you get it.”

  “Um, sounds kinky. I like kinky.”

  “Good. That’s what I’m counting on. I’ll see you around eight o’clock. And Candace—don’t be late.”

  He hung up the phone grinning and bursting with excitement. It was time to move this relationship forward, but he would have to tread carefully. Instinct warned him that getting her to even consider the possibility was as dangerous as walking through a minefield, and it could lead to an explosion of monumental proportions.

  • • •

  Brice constantly surprised her with his uncensored honesty. He held nothing back. He spoke his mind and got straight to the point. His frank admission of desire, and the sound of his voice—hard, edged with need, and full of demand—made her hot. Blatant talk of his need for her made her nipples stiff and bead tightly, and, God help her, she needed to change her underwear. She wanted him just as much, but she wasn’t nearly as open and honest about it as he was.

  He was right. She had been avoiding him. She wasn’t immune to his sweet touch and his thoughtful ways. She’d been doomed from the start, when he’d first wrapped himself around her and held her all night long, just to comfort her. She’d felt it then for the first time, that elusive feeling women dream of, the feeling of being safe, protected, and cared for. It had been the same ever since. Every time they’d made love and stayed together, she’d wake in the morning enclosed in his arms, tangled in his legs, and surrounded by his scent. It was addictive, that feeling of being safe and wanted. It was something a girl could get used to.

  Her mind and body craved him, and she constantly fought unpredictable and overpowering urges to run to him as often as she truly wanted to. There was no denying it; she was totally hooked on the man and how he made her feel, the way he made love to her. The way he touched, teased, and made her body come alive was wonderful—and frightening. In a desperate attempt to hold onto her heart, she tried to keep her distance. But it wasn’t working. It didn’t matter that she told him lies and tried to stay away. She couldn’t lie to herself. His cool blue eyes and warm smile had drawn her in, and she ached to be wrapped inside his strong arms.

  This no-strings, no-commitment arrangement was getting harder and harder to live with, but changing the rules was not an option. She might lose her head and control of her body, but losing her heart was non-negotiable.

  • • •

  She rang the doorbell at precisely eight o’clock, her heart hammering with excitement. Brice opened the door and immediately pulled her inside. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard and deep, pouring his need into her and filling her up. He surrounded her, consuming her with his passion. He kissed her long and with unrestrained fervor, until she realized that there was no gentle teasing, no quiet laughter, no calming reassurance. This man in her arms was someone she didn’t recognize. And it excited her.

  When he finally released her, he retreated and let his hands drop to his sides, breathing heavily as if struggling for control. The intensity of his kiss and the strength of his embrace left her swaying and nearly breathless. She kept her eyes closed, feeling electrically charged, slightly disoriented, and burning from the inside out. When she was able to force her eyes open, she was surprised by what she saw. He was dressed entirely in black: black jeans, a black t-shirt stretched taunt across his muscular chest, black biker boots, and black leather bands wrapped around his wrists. He looked rugged, sexy, seductive, and scary. His dark presence excited her. This new look was a far cry from his usual custom-tailored suits and silk ties. He looked more forceful, more powerful, more dominating, more masculine—more everything. She nervously licked her lower lip.

  “Do you trust me, Candace?” He placed both hands on her arms and brushed over them in a long, sensual sweep from her shoulders down to her fingertips, and threaded their fingers together. Again she licked her lower lip, uncertain of the answer. Did she trust him? She was afraid of the intense heat and the dangerous look that smoldered in his eyes, and yet, inexplicably drawn to the exciting promise of both. Her fear of losing control was far outweighed by her excitement. Something deep inside warned her she was on the verge of a discovery that could change her life forever, but she couldn’t bring herself to resist. She swallowed hard, and nodded her head.

  “There’s something wild in you, Candace, something that’s been contained and misunderstood for too long. I want to help you let it out. Will you trust me with that?” Again she nodded. “I have something for you.”

  He took her hand and pulled her further into the house. The room was dimly lit with recessed lighting from above, further enhanced with the glow of several candles scattered about. He kissed her again, this one lingering, tender, and more sedate than the previous one. He handed her a large box with a black top, pink-and-black stripes along the sides, and a black bow tying the two together. The name of the store, Straight Up with a Twist, was embossed in raised gold script across the top. “I went shopping and picked up a few things. I want you to put these on.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise and she gave him a questioning look, but his blank expression gave nothing away. She removed the top and cautiously peeked inside. Carefully peeling back delicate pink tissue paper, she revea
led a black latex harness bra with tiny pink bows stitched below each shoulder strap, and two black latex pasties to cover the nipples once the breasts hung exposed and free. Included was a matching pair of extremely short shorts with a zipper that ran from the rear, through the crotch, and ended in front just below the waist. And finally, there was a pair of black round-toed six-inch platform heels with red-bottomed soles.

  Candace looked at the contents of the box in stunned silence and a growing excitement. She pulled out the harness bra and ran her hands over the shiny black material. She felt something deep inside unfurl and purr with recognition and expectation. “Where should I change?” she asked in a low voice as she pulled each piece from the box and carefully set them aside.

  “Right here. I want to watch.”

  Without hesitation she began to strip, taking her time to savor the sensation of icy blue eyes fixated on her every move. He stood with his legs apart, his hands clasped together, and his head slightly bowed, watching as she took her time and slowly removed each piece of clothing. He shamelessly wrapped his hand around the thickness of his stiffening cock, gripping and massaging it through the material of his pants. She was turned on by the evidence of his desire and shivered with anticipation as his hardened length continued to grow.

  When she was completely naked, he reached out to trace her lines and caress her curves. He followed the shape of her breast with the tips of his fingers and flicked back and forth over her nipple with his thumb. He moved lower and cupped her smooth naked mound, and rubbed delicate circles around her opening before he dipped inside her warmth, seeking telltale evidence that she was wet and ready for him. She welcomed his invasion and held onto his arms for stability, pushing helplessly into his hand as he indulged himself.

  When he removed his tormenting finger, he reached behind her and picked up the pair of shorts. He kneeled in front of her and put his arms around her waist. Pulling her closer, he buried his face in her pelvis and inhaled the scent of her arousal. He flicked his tongue repeatedly, delving into her divide to taste her spice. She moaned, nearly lost her balance, and held on tighter. Again he withdrew and temporarily halted his torture and lowered the shorts to the floor, encouraging her to step into them, one leg at a time. They fit her like a glove and molded perfectly to her rounded bottom. Next, he helped her into the harness, lifting her breasts through the openings and pulling it tight, then lacing it up from behind to bring her shoulders back and lift her breasts higher. Before putting on the pasties, he suckled each nipple, licking, nipping and teasing them to pointed perfection. And last, he helped her put on the heels and watched her height increase and bring her to a level only a few inches shorter than his six feet plus.