Power Play

by Vera Roberts

  Ian closed his eyes and inhaled Sydney’s coconut-scented hair. She felt so lithe and warm in his embrace, Ian no longer felt in control of his emotions or sanity. She consumed all of him, without asking or demanding. She just took him, as is, and with no regrets.

  She was more than his muse. She was his life. She was his everything. He didn’t want to think about the future or the ‘what ifs’ or ‘what shouldn’ts’. No, he wanted to think about how it would feel as she was beneath him, or on top of him as they rocked back and forth, exchanging emotions in a give or take that only grown folk do.

  He felt his desire bottom out and he took a large exhale. His sanity told him to let her go and leave their relationship be.

  When did Ian ever listen to sanity?

  He slightly pulled back from Sydney and studied the various emotions played in front of him – hurt, anguish, pain, and desire. She was in insurmountable amount of pain but her body betrayed her. Her skin was hot to the touch and her breathing became increasingly shallow. She wanted Ian to take the pain away and forget about everything – art, her now-canceled wedding, and most importantly, Dean.

  He nuzzled his nose against her jawline before meeting her mouth with his. He crushed his lips against hers, exploring the inside of her mouth with his expert tongue, and he felt her resolve dissipate before them. Her chest rose up and down as her emotions tried to play catch up. His fingers threaded through her as his tongue lapped against hers. She softly moaned and Ian grew increasingly impatient. He wanted her in every way and would have to deal with the consequences later.

  Sydney’s mind was spinning. She wanted to forget about Dean and their failed engagement and subsequent relationship. She didn’t want to worry about her show or the future, for that matter. She just wanted Ian. She wanted to feel him on top of her, inside her, behind her, underneath her. All she knew was she needed Ian to save her from everything.

  He picked up Sydney and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and crawled beside her as they resumed kissing and exploring each other. It felt like they were alone in the universe, with only their breathing providing the soundtrack to the moment. Sydney climbed on top of Ian and pulled off her tank top while he removed her bra. His strong hands immediately cupped her breasts, twisting and playing with the taut nipples before he dived in and tasted them.

  They rolled over and Ian quickly stood up and peeled off his clothing while Sydney shed hers. He softly gasped when he saw her body. Her skin was smooth, supple, and a soft café au lait tone. He reached into his wallet and grabbed a couple of condoms before he rejoined her. He kissed her again, savoring her lips as his hands and fingers explored various parts of her body.

  He pulled away long enough to whisper in her ear. “I’ll be gentle.”

  “No,” she shook her head, “I want it to hurt,” she pulled him on top of her, “I want to feel everything of you.”

  Ian kissed Sydney again before he slid down her body, kissing every curve as he passed along the way. When he reached her nectar, he spread her thighs apart before he dove in. He tasted her sweetness as his tongue played with her pearl. His mouth ravaged her until she cried out and shook.

  Ian hurriedly sheathed the condom on before he thrust inside her, hard and deep. She matched him thrust for thrust. Stolen kisses, gasped moans, fingers clawing against skin as they rocked together as one. The harder he thrust, the more Sydney begged him not to stop. They built a solid rhythm, mesmerizing and erotic, as they raced to the finish. They didn’t worry about Dean, art, or other worldly things. They only cared about each other, taking away pain and fulfilling a need.

  Sydney screamed out Ian’s name as she shuddered beneath him, softly convulsing as she slowly caught her breath. She clutched his arms as he continued, racing over the edge, and slowly came back down to earth to join her, completely spent. He kissed her temple and his goatee nuzzled her jawline.

  He rolled over and cuddled her underneath the sheets. His fingers played with her while he listened to her drift off to a peaceful slumber. Any man would be happy being in Ian’s position – a naked, beautiful woman in bed and a feeling of triumph.

  Ian was angry.

  He knew as well as Sydney did, their tryst was more or less a pity fuck, and they would never be a couple, which he happily accepted. Ian also knew things would be a little different between him and Sydney and he was okay with it.

  Now Ian needed to convince Sydney while he had her body, he wouldn’t ever have her heart. It solely belonged to Dean.

  Thirteen

  “You’re back,” Father Donaldson greeted Jameson when he entered the church, “I thought you wouldn’t be for a while.”

  Jameson exchanged high fives with a few of the children before he made his way to Father Donaldson. He gave the older man a warm hug before they sat down in one of the pews. “With the playoffs and finals, I needed to focus.”

  “And congratulations on your title,” Father Donaldson exclaimed, “but you’re not here to talk about hockey, are you?”

  Jameson smiled and shook his head. “It’s about my girlfriend.”

  Father Donaldson gave Jameson advice on how to deal with his sexual urges, which the younger man listened. “Yes?”

  “It’s becoming harder to remain celibate. Sarah is just so beautiful and whenever I kiss her, I just want to kiss her all over.” Jameson admitted, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel anything when I feel everything.”

  “Being celibate doesn’t mean you’re never to supposed to enjoy God’s pleasures again, my child,” Father Donaldson commented, “it just means you need to focus on yourself without lust being a factor. Concentrate on your own needs before worldly desires.”

  Jameson nodded as he took the priest’s advice. When he went celibate, his hockey game was stronger because sex wasn’t a factor. He didn’t think his game would change once sex was in the equation. He only wanted it to be with Sarah, who let him know she had an insatiable appetite. “I don’t want to wait forever but I don’t know how much I can wait. What should I do?”

  Father Donaldson patted Jameson’s knees. “Do you want to marry Sarah?”

  “Of course!”

  “Then what’s stopping you from marrying her now?” The priest asked.

  “Well, we don’t know each other that well,” Jameson replied, “we’ve only been dating for a few months.”

  “You and Sarah are going to change every day. You’re not even the same person you were a week ago.” The priest commented. “Why not change together?”

  ****

  It was the first time she’d smiled in days.

  As “Empty Room” blasted through the living room, Sydney focused on the canvas before her. She started and stopped her drawing several times before she finally gave up and just started dancing around the loft. If she didn’t feel inspired, she just danced. It was better than just moping around and stuffing her face with Haagen-Dazs.

  A knock at the door signaled a surprise visit. She turned down the music and rushed to the door. “Hello there,” she greeted after she opened the door.

  “May I come in?” Ian asked.

  “Please,” Sydney stepped aside and let Ian in.

  He carried a bouquet of multicolored roses and placed them on the kitchen counter. “How are you doing, Sydney?”

  “Meh,” she joined him at the kitchen, “it hasn’t been the best time but it hasn’t completely sucked.”

  “That’s honest,” Ian replied. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

  “Oh?” Sydney’s thighs finally recovered from the strenuous activity Ian gave them. Throughout the night they did a give and take with each other, with each time being better than the previous. They used up the condoms he had, plus a few more in Sydney’s stash. She didn’t think she ever screamed so loud in her life.

  “I like you, Sydney. I think you’re a magnificent and wonderful woman.” His rich, baritone voice highlighted his British accent. “You have
a great talent and I see you going very far in your career.”

  “Hmm…” Sydney squinted one eye. “…there’s a but in there.”

  Ian grabbed Sydney’s hand and kissed it. “I think what happened between us should just be one night. It was a fun night and I had blast all five times,” he winked at her, “but we both know what happened was a distraction and I was happy to oblige.”

  Sydney narrowed her eyes as a smirk grew on her face. “Is that a nice way of saying the other night was a pity fuck?”

  “I could never take the place of your man,” Ian replied, “besides, I think we have a great relationship as it is, sexual tension and all. The moment our relationship becomes romantic, your focus moves away from your art to being on me and I’m not worth the distraction. I need you hungry and happy.” Ian let out a small breath. “I also need you with Dean.”

  Sydney’s eyes widened. “Dean’s the reason why I’m miserable. I’m better off without him.”

  “I’m not too sure about that,” Ian raised an eyebrow and slightly tilted his head, “your relationship with him was juvenile, yes. Both of you are young and have a lot of growing up to do. Both of you also want to grow old together and that’s a beautiful thing. But to say you were better off without him? No. Everything you did, everything you’re doing, is about him. I see Dean in your eyes, in your art, and most importantly, on your heart. I think this separation is a good thing but I don’t believe it’s permanent. Furthermore, neither do you.”

  Sydney wanted to believe Ian. Dean’s actions were too loud for the message. “What happens when the calm after the storm never comes? When everything is broken, torn up, and permanently destroyed? Then what? What do you do with nothing?”

  Ian leaned in front of her with dancing blue eyes and an assured smile on his face. “You rebuild.”

  ****

  A week after the disastrous preview, Dean met with the head and assistant coach of the Kings as well as Scott Reed, who acted as a PR rep for the Fergusons.

  “I’ve spoken with the Ferguson family,” Scott began as they all met in the Staples Center, “they don’t want to make a mess of this so they’ve agreed not to press charges as long as Dean personally apologizes to them and never steps foot inside the Gallery again. In lieu of payment for damages, they want you to donate sizable money to a charity of their choice. They’ll also choose the donation amount.”

  “No problems here,” Dean shrugged, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that place.”

  “Good, then it’s settled,” Scott stood up, “we’re done here.” He left the room.

  The head coach waited a brief moment before he turned to Dean. Dean’s behavior as of late was unusual for someone who was known to keep his cool. Even when people harshly criticized Dean, he seemingly shrugged off the criticism and worked harder on his game to silence them. Now Dean behaved in a way that was alarming to everyone. “Is everything okay, kid? This is unlike you.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Dean interrupted, “I just lost control of my emotions for a bit and let it get the best of me. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Well, it is something to worry about if it happens to our best player,” the assistant coach interjected, “if you need help with anything, just ask and we’ll get you help.”

  Can you help me get my girl back? Dean cast sharp glances at the men before him. They couldn’t help him because Dean knew it was an impossible task. It was amazing how of all of the seven deadly sins, it was jealousy that was his detriment. They spoke to him like if it had a problem with alcohol or drugs and it was neither. He was a man who, for once, lost control of his emotions because of a woman.

  Not just any woman. The only woman that ever mattered to him.

  She was the type that never gave up on him. She was the type that would purposely watch scary movies with him so he could comfort her all night with ‘don’t be scared’ sex. She was quiet. She was loud. She didn’t show enough emotion. She was too emotional. She had solid plans. She was wishy-washy. She was everything and expected nothing from him. She was perfect for him in every way.

  And he fucking blew it.

  It was the first time in Dean’s life where he felt truly embarrassed by his stupidity. He wondered if Sydney would ever forgive him. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get my head back in the game and it’ll be cool,” he finally answered a short time later.

  “Let us know if you need anything, kiddo,” the coaches left Dean alone in the conference room with his thoughts.

  He got up and walked over to the windows, staring out of all of Los Angeles. It was a glorious summer day and there he was, moping inside the stadium he practically built with reputation and goals. He was the reason why people became interested in hockey again and why all of the Kings games were sold out. He had so many endorsement deals, he could happily retire on those alone.

  Pop culture branded him a sex symbol and it was a title Dean reluctantly accepted. He would rather talk about his favorite hockey games or how Chance the Rapper’s newest mixtape inspired him. Instead, groupies wanted to know about his dick size and how to meet him. Entertainment reporters wanted to get a piece of him. If Dean tried hard enough, he could see the underwear ad he was featured on in the far left corner from the window.

  He had the world in his hands and he was miserable. What happened the other night made Dean so embarrassed, it was almost as if it was someone he didn’t know. That Dean guy. Whoever he was. Crazy Dean took over Calm and Collected Dean and he didn’t know when the transition happened. What he did know was, it cost him the best relationship he’d ever had. Even if he’d to spend a lifetime chasing the same requisite love, the other woman would never be Sydney.

  “I’m so damn pathetic,” he whispered. He heard the conference door open and turned around to see who it was. He softly shook his head and sucked his teeth. “You and I don’t have anything to talk about.”

  “Oh, I think we have a lot to discuss,” Ian stuffed his hands in his pockets. “For starters, you can apologize for being a dick.”

  “Listen, man, I will pay for whatever damage I did. But that’s the extent of our conversation.” Dean replied. “Nothing else, nothing more. I refuse to entertain any conversation with the man who stole my fiancée.”

  Ian looked outside the window of his father’s business. It was such a beautiful and bright day in sunny Los Angeles and he was stuck babysitting Dean and his moods. “I’ll start talking, you listen.” He let out a small breath and began. “Are you familiar with the movie, A Star is Born? It’s about a guy who’s this big Hollywood star and he meets this up and coming starlet. Over time, he helps her with her career, securing her roles, introducing her to other powerful people, helping her with her acting. As he does this, her success begins to eclipse his. She’s getting more roles. She’s getting more coverage. And him? He’s relegated to just being her partner. He went from A-list to D-list within a matter of years and nothing has changed except he helped her. He’s no longer considered for roles and as a result, he loses himself. He becomes an alcoholic, despondent, and he tries to pull her down with him, almost succeeding. The woman remains a star.

  “There’s a lot of comparison of that movie and what’s going on between you and Sydney. You may not be despondent and desperate, but you sure didn’t try to support her. And while you’re vocally saying you support Sydney, your passive-aggressive actions tell me otherwise. I’m not your issue,” Ian pointed out, “you are.”

  “Fuck you,” Dean dismissed him.

  “Oh?” Ian accepted his challenge. “I may have overstepped my boundaries a little, I’ll admit that. But Dean, you had an issue with Sydney’s success from the start. Sure, it was fun for a while, using Sydney to get back at your ex-girlfriend for her games. But when Sydney’s career took off and she became successful on her own without your merits and help, well, your ego couldn’t stand it. Every woman you ever dated wanted something from you. They wanted your money. They wanted your fame. They wanted to na
me-drop you to get things. Sydney didn’t. She hated your fame. She didn’t want to abuse your money. Hell, she didn’t even want to use your money for frivolous bullshit. But you couldn’t see it like that.

  “You wanted to keep her in her place. You could’ve purchased that loft but you chose not to. You could’ve bought Sydney her own art studio, you chose not to. Any man wouldn’t have had a problem postponing the wedding so she could have her successful art run. Hell, they might have just gone ahead and got married at the local courthouse. But you chose not to. And then for your final act, you pulled that ridiculous stunt at the preview. You said it was about me but no, my friend, it was never about me. It was always about you.” Ian walked over to Dean. “I didn’t steal Sydney, Dean. You gave her to me.”

  Dean’s nostrils flared and his gripped and released his tight fists in rapid succession. “I suggest you back away before I end up with a suspension,” Dean warned.

  “Even if you could hit me, chances are you wouldn’t do much damage,” Ian retorted. “Save your anger for the ice.” He pulled out a business card and slid it on the conference table. “If you want to see her, here’s where she is now. I suggest you hurry before she leaves. And just a friendly reminder, Dean, if she does give you another chance and you make her feel less than amazing even for a split second, I’ll be right behind you in an instant, softly reminding I’m always here to replace you.” He then left the conference room.

  Dean remained inside the conference room as he quietly steamed. Despite the smugness of Ian’s attitude and behavior, the man was right – Dean did practically hand Sydney over to him. He should’ve placed Christmas wrapping and a bow on her. He pushed her away and instead of confronting his own insecurities and jealousy issues, he made it worse for the both of them.

  He had one last shot to make it right. It needed to be the best shot of his life.

  Fourteen