Playing To Win: The Complete King Brothers Collection (A Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Teagan Kade

  “I imagine that’s not too difficult.”

  “You imagine correct.”

  “You weren’t shy in the bedroom.”

  I smile thinking of the tight warmth of her pussy, the way it drew my cock in. “I can let my inner Hulk out when the moment calls for it.”

  “You’re telling me you become a big green monster when you get your dick out, because all I remember is a fine-ass white boy the complete opposite of angry. Don’t even get me started on your cum face. It looked like you were transcending some high spiritual plane.”

  I almost choke on my milkshake, forced to swallow it down before I spray the walls with it. “My cum face? Hate to break it to you, but when you came you looked like a stunned m—”

  I stop because someone’s standing right next to our table. I look left and take in the figure. They’re wearing a black suit with an earpiece and sunglasses—inside, at night, no less. Bodyguard for sure, but for who?

  I don’t have to wait long for the answer.

  A man in a navy suit with a second bodyguard approaches. This second bodyguard pulls him out a chair from a nearby table.

  The man sits, looking between us and then around the diner. “Quaint.”

  “Sorry, who are you?” I ask.

  He looks to Linnea. “Why, didn’t she tell you? I’m Linnea’s father, Rex Marsden, and you are?”

  The smile has disappeared from Linnea’s face. “You should leave,” she tells him.

  I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m going to support Linnea.

  “Maybe you should listen,” I suggest.

  He ignores me, facing Linnea. “You should have come when I asked. You shouldn’t have forced me to come to you.”

  “The lady asked you to leave,” I tell him, ready to move should the situation call for it, but we’re boxed in by the bodyguards. Still, they’d be bold to do anything in here, even if the diner is quiet tonight.

  “There’s a wonderful young man I’d like you to meet, a Harry Brenton,” Rex continues, addressing Linnea. “Come to dinner Wednesday night, meet him for yourself.”

  Linnea crosses her arms. “I’m not meeting anyone. Now, please, leave.”

  “You better—” I start, but a pointed finger from this Rex character cuts me off.

  “You better watch your tone,” he starts, the façade dropping and the wizard revealed, though all I see is a bitter prick looking out for his own interests. “I know who you are, Nolan King. I know your father and your pack of bastard brothers.”

  I make a fist under the table, but this isn’t the place. I’ve got more restraint than my brothers, know when to rein it in.

  Easy, I caution myself. He’s looking for a rise. Don’t give it to him.

  I tap the tabletop. “Funny,” I tell him, “because I’ve heard nothing about you. You sure you’ve got the right table? Perhaps you can go find some other person’s night to ruin, eh?”

  He gives a low laugh. “You’re nothing,” he says, eyes winter cold. “Nothing but a jock looking for another life to ruin.”

  He looks to Linnea. “You think this guy is going to support you, even stick around? I know his type, Linnea. He’ll fuck you in more ways than one and then take off, leave you high and dry.”

  My patience is waning. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “She’s my daughter, asshole, I’ll talk to her how I please.”

  Fuck it. I’m about to get up and start swinging when Cherri, the diner manager, appears, looking to me to gauge the situation. “Everything all right here, Nol?”

  “These gentlemen were just leaving, Cherri.”

  She clues in fast. “You gents better get moving. I’ll call the police if I have to. Precinct’s just across the road.”

  Rex nods once, tapping the table just like I did. “Wednesday night,” he tells Linnea, standing and doing up the top button on his suit jacket. “Don’t be late.”

  I shake my head, cannot believe this arrogance of this guy. “She’s not coming, dipshit. What don’t you understand about that?”

  I see the look of contempt he gives me before smiling to Cherri and dipping his head. “Ma’am,” he says with a click of his tongue, his bodyguards falling into line behind him.

  I wait until they’ve left. “Thanks, Cherri.”

  “Anytime, darlin’.” She winks, darting back to the counter.

  I look over to Linnea. She seems seriously spooked. “You okay?”

  “Can we go?”

  “Sure,” I reply, already standing and collecting the burgers for Cherri to bag up.

  Even when we step outside, I see the way Linnea checks and scans for Rex and his goons. I’m cautious myself, keeping a keen eye on the rear-view as we drive.

  It’s only once we’re safely inside her apartment she relaxes.

  “Mom?” she calls out.

  There’s no answer.

  She braces herself against the kitchen counter. “She must be out. Sorry about my father, by the way, but even calling him that is far more than he deserves.”

  I place the takeaway bags down. “Hey, it’s all good. I just want to look out for you.”

  “You showed impressive restraint back here.”

  “Which I would have happily done away with had you given the signal.

  She sits on a ladder-back stool, legs swinging. “Honestly, he’s not worth it.”

  I move around beside her, taking a seat. “Your father?”

  I can see she’s debating whether or not to tell me. “You can let me in,” I say. “I’m all ears.”

  She nods to herself, scratching her shoulder. She seems unable to look at me directly. “My father’s wealthy, well-connected, but like I said, he’s a terrible person.”

  “You don’t say.”

  A slight smile. “I don’t want to get into the gritty details, but it was bad growing up. He’s got this real power complex, this thing about control that just drags everything in his orbit down. So, my mother and I spent a lot of time lying low, evading him until I was an adult.”

  “Shit, I had no idea.”

  “He found us again six months ago, started popping up unexpectedly. At first it seemed harmless enough, that maybe he’d changed and wanted to be part of my life again, but now he’s pushing me to a life he wants for me, not the life I want for myself.”

  “You don’t seem like the type that scares easily.”

  “If you’d seen what he can do, what I saw growing up… He’s not someone you want to mess with.”

  “Neither am I,” I reply.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt, Nolan.”

  I start to unpack the burgers. “I’ll be fine.” I hand her burger across. “Should we eat?”

  She places the burger down and stares at it. “Honestly, I don’t know why he’s suddenly trying to play father after ignoring me for so long. Mom and I even changed our names when we ran. We settled nearby and he never found us then, but now…”

  “You changed your name?”

  “Yeah, I always liked the name Linnea, thought it was different and kind of quirky-cool.”

  I’m curious what her birth name was, but I don’t want to push. “I take it you don’t want anything to do with him, Rex?”

  Now she looks to me. I hate seeing her like this, on the backfoot. “I don’t trust him. It’s as simple as that.”

  We eat, but it’s a far more solemn affair than the diner.

  Afterwards, Linnea seems happy simply to lie in bed and talk. We don’t return to the subject of her father, but I try to make her feel comforted all the same, to let her know I’m not going anywhere.

  Linnea slides her leg over me, hand reaching down to my crotch. She begins to stroke me through my pants. “You know what would really take my mind off things?”

  I hold the side of her face with my hand. “A good book?”

  She smiles, pumping the hard outline of my cock through my jeans. “I was thinking something a touch more stimulating.”
<
br />   God, I want her so fucking bad, but I promised myself I would go slow, to see this through properly.

  I kiss her, only stopping when she climbs on top of me and starts to pull off her sweater.

  I pull it back into position, the taste of her on my lips fighting my powers of resistance, sexual frustration flanking me from both sides. “I want to, I really do, but I also want to take things slowly. I promised myself I’d do this differently, that I’d do it right, because I want this to be long term. Don’t you?”

  She does. I see it in her eyes behind the obvious frustration.

  She climbs off and returns to my side, cuddling into my chest. “If this is some grand King scheme to get me like super, super wet, head’s up, it’s working.”

  I smile, stroking her hair. “I’ll stay if you want.”

  “I’d like that.”

  We stay in position until she falls asleep against my shoulder. I breathe her in and can’t seem to shake myself out of the sexual stupor I’ve created.

  What is this really achieving? I ask myself.

  I could take her pants off right now, lick her to life, but I don’t. I remain there, solemn, painfully erect, silently patting myself on the back for showing such restraint.

  But wishing I could let it go just as easily.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LINNEA

  “Jesus H, Linnea!” Coach yells from the sideline. “You actually going to sink something today?”

  I’ve missed the last three out of four shots I’ve put up, which surely must be some kind of Academy record. It hasn’t gone unnoticed By Coach Henderson. She’s over there looking like a bull who just had his balls clipped off. I can’t blame her. I’m sucking major ass today.

  I fire off another three, but it’s a foot wide of the ring.

  I hear the sound of a clipboard hitting the boards. “Marsden! Get your ass over here. Now.”

  The others stay silent while I make my way over. I front up to Henderson with my hands on my hips.

  “Explain,” she says, barely holding herself back from a full-blown verbal assault.

  “I have a headache, think I might be coming down with something, maybe?” I reach for my stomach to sell the lie, but I know it’s weak.

  Henderson takes a step closer. “I don’t care if you just contracted the plague, you need to pick up your game. Are we clear?”

  I wipe my mouth. “Yes, Coach.”

  “Go.”

  A marginal improvement follows, but it’s far from my A-game.

  Carrie, my BFF and fellow baller, bails me up in the locker room. Wrapped in a towel, waving a razor around like it’s a baton, she’s her usual animated self. “You going to tell me what’s going on, babe, because I know that was far from a wholesome D-and-M you had with Henderson.”

  I’ve got my top off but have otherwise been sitting here for the last minute staring at the wall, my head somewhere else entirely. I look to Carrie. “She had every right to go at me. I had no focus out there. I’ve seen high-schoolers play better ball.”

  “Hey, even Jordan had his off days.”

  “Rookie year, shot five-of-eighteen from the field and six-from-eleven from the free throw against the Knicks, I know.”

  The razor mercifully goes back to shaving Carrie’s leg. “So give yourself a break for once and tell me what the hell’s going on so I can come up with the perfect place and alcoholic beverage to make you forget all about it.”

  If Crestfall ever found out how much hooch Carrie has stashed in her dorm room I’m pretty sure she’d be out on her ass. It’s like prohibition in there. Doesn’t help she grew up with a Russian father who basically considered vodka water.

  Most of the others are in the showers or gossiping in the corner. We’re alone. “It’s Nolan,” I confess.

  And the razor’s back in flight. “What did he do? I’ll cut his fucking throat, I swear to God.”

  I reach for her wrist and lower the razor back to her leg. “Easy, Hannibal. It’s nothing like that.”

  “He’s not cheating on you?”

  “No.”

  “Addicted to porn?”

  I screw up my face. “Not that I know of.”

  The razor stops. “Shit. He’s not gay, is he?”

  “Given the terminal case of lady blue balls I’ve got, I really don’t know.”

  Carrie looks confused. “But I thought you guys already,” she humps at the air and almost loses her towel in the process. “Did the dirty?”

  “‘Dirty’ is the appropriate word,” I tell her. “And it was incredible, but since then, nothing.”

  “You can come on a bit strong.”

  Only Carrie could get away with telling me that. I fold my arms. “So strong he hasn’t even tried to get into my pants since, not even a quick fingerbang behind the bleachers.”

  Carrie shivers. “The bleachers. Ew. Bad memories.”

  “Anyway,” I continue. “I have needs, you know.”

  Carrie places the razor down and takes a seat beside me, bumps my shoulder with her own. “Maybe you just need to change your perspective a weensy bit, huh?”

  “How?”

  “Appreciate maybe he’s trying to take his time. Maybe he’s not like his brothers with their dicks out fucking the first thing they see.”

  “You do know the other King brothers are spoken for now, right?”

  Carrie waves it off. “Miracles will never cease, blah-blah-blah, but we’re talking about Nolan here. You said it yourself, he’s not like the others. He clearly wants more than sex. The question is, do you?”

  And there it is, Carrie laying it out in legible black and white.

  I nod firmly. “I do.”

  Carrie stands and places her foot up on the bench, going back to shaving the Amazon forest that is her right calf. “My work is done.”

  “Hmm,” I muse, looking back to the wall and thinking through this new so-called perspective. I do want more. I think I want more with him, and it’s there, in that newfound appreciation of his approach, I start to see the light.

  “He’s not like the others,” I repeat to myself.

  “What was that?” asks Carrie.

  “Nothing,” I reply, smiling now and reaching for the back of my bra.

  *

  I send Nolan an eggplant emoji followed by a question mark.

  He replies with a peach.

  It would seem we’re both ready for another roll in the hay then. God knows I need it.

  It’s Wednesday evening and I’m supposed to be meeting him at the Athenium for a movie. Offerings are thin in Crestfall. We’re usually running a month or two behind the mainstream releases in the US, though I wasn’t planning to do much watching, per se.

  Practice has thrown me, though. Has seeing Nolan made my game suffer? It’s hard to tell. I should be behind that by now, a psychological concrete wall, impenetrable and impervious to external influence.

  Should, I think, lingering on the thought.

  I decide to double practice hours, spend extra time in the gym making up for it. The best cure for feeling sorry for yourself is action. My mother came up with that one, has always had that go-get-’em attitude of endless positivity. Fuck knows how she came to be with my father. The guy’s basically a black hole, sucking all life into it, feeding and feeding until there’s nothing left.

  I shake my head and swipe my jacket from the back of the door, smiling to myself in the knowledge Nolan’s going to find something scant and lacy if his fingers do go fishing tonight.

  I write Mom a note and leave it on the kitchen table, closing the front door behind myself and pulling in a deep breath. The weather’s welcome outside. It’s warm and fresh, the kind of world where even the wind seems full of possibility.

  My car’s parked on the street. I’m halfway to it when I hear doors opening on the other side of the street. My eyes go to the black Mercedes four-wheel-drive parked there, two goons emerging from the back seat and powering their way over. Th
ey’re suited up and I don’t imagine it’s because they’re headed to the opera.

  They run over to me, scanning the street for witnesses.

  Fucking Dad, I think.

  But they’re not getting their grubby hands on me.

  I turn and prepare to sprint…only to collide straight into the brick wall that is goon number three. I hadn’t even seen him approach. Asshole was probably hiding in the bushes.

  He grabs my wrist and twists my arm high behind my back, but not before I’ve swung my leg back into his shin. He barely moves, a short grumble before the others arrive and take hold of my legs.

  I scream but only manage to get out “Hel—” before my mouth is covered. I try to bite down, but it’s useless.

  How can no one be seeing this? I wonder. It’s broad daylight for crying out loud.

  They carry me across the street and bundle me into the back of the Merc most unceremoniously.

  “Fuck you!” I shout, wedged between two of them as the doors close.

  “If he wants to see me so bad,” I continue. “He should have kidnapped me his-fucking-self.”

  The goon in the passenger seats turns to show me he’s holding a pistol, placing his finger to his lips.

  I laugh. “You think that piece of dick compensation scares me?”

  He goes back to staring out the front window, the driver pulling away with a screech of tires.

  It’s a long and painful trip to my father’s. I’ve never been here before, but I pay special attention to the street and house number, filing it away for later. These goons might be big, but they’re not very bright. They should have patted me down at the very least. Clearly, they haven’t been watching enough NCIS.

  I get out reluctantly not willing to be manhandled again. One goes to reach for me, but I put up my fist. “Touch me again and I swear to god I’ll knock your teeth so far down your throat you’ll have to stick a toothbrush up your ass to brush them.”

  That gets something of a smile. He nods and ushers me towards the front door. Damn house looks like a mausoleum, completely cold and over the top. Suits my father to a T, really.

  The front doors are gold, probably ten foot high. I’m led through, the air cool from all the marble.