Power Play: Power Play Series Book 1

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  “I hope I get to meet her,” Trey says. He hasn't wandered but a few inches from my side since we left the hotel. He stays close to keep me safe, but I can't help the building hope that it's more than protection keeping him there.

  The desperate need to touch him, to feel his body against mine was merciless when we first met, but that was simple attraction. Now? Oh boy. Totally different ball game.

  Not only is he attractive with his roguish good looks, but he's tough as nails when he needs to be, then comforting and sweet when he doesn't. And what he said earlier about me being bright and shit left my face and panties damp. I almost pulled the oversized sweatpants down right there on the sidewalk and bent over. I chose not to since, you know, I don't want to come off as desperate or anything.

  Which I totally am.

  “Not tonight. I didn't shave.”

  “Huh?” He stumbles midstep and turns with a confused look. “Mess, I don't even want to know what line of thinking made you respond with that.”

  I cringe. “Sorry, wrong conversation again.”

  “I was referring to Taeler.”

  Oh, right. “You might, I guess. Depending if we win or not. I'm trying to keep her as far away from all this as possible. The DC crowd as a whole, but mostly Kyle and Shawn. I wouldn't put it past them to leverage her in some way to use me.”

  “Smart. You should consider sending her to Oxford. It's farther, and not in America.”

  “Not a bad plan, Trouble, but so far UT is working out great.” With a content sigh, I try to commit this moment to memory. “The fall is so beautiful here. At home, the leaves don't change to these bright colors, or if they do, it only lasts a week before the wind strips them bare.” Bending forward, I swipe a wet yellow leaf from the walkway. Thank goodness the rain stopped sometime during the blackmail mission, leaving behind only crisp, damp air and sporadic puddles to avoid. “You've asked a lot of questions about my life but haven't really given me much about yours.”

  “Not much to tell,” he says with a shrug. “I live in DC now, college on the West Coast, army. Nothing exciting.”

  I tilt backward, almost toppling over at his arm shooting out, pressing against my stomach and stopping me in my tracks. My heart rate ratchets higher as he scans a block of darkened path up ahead with intense scrutiny. Goose bumps spread along my forearms. The darkness of the night mixed with our isolation urges me closer to Trey's side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me even closer. An engulfing sense of security warms my chilled body like a thick blanket.

  “What's going on?” I whisper, my lips brushing the material of his suit jacket.

  “You feel that?” Head on a swivel, he scans the area once, twice.

  A sudden prickling spreads down my neck at the sense of being watched.

  “Let's go back the way we came.”

  I'm still nodding when he whirls us around to retrace our steps. My breath catches as every muscle of his that’s pressed against my right side tenses. The silhouette outside a streetlight’s illumination pulls us to a hard stop.

  Trey swears under his breath. The world spins as he rotates us back around only to find another person, this one in the middle of the path, not caring that the light gives us a clear visual of his features.

  “Mess,” Trey states as he looks from the man in front of us to the one at our back. “I need you to stay close, but know when to get out of the way if things get dirty. You understand me?”

  My head bobs in rapid succession.

  “Dammit, I really didn't think this through, did I?”

  The regret in his voice tugs at my heart. “Hey, you didn't know. Don't blame yourself.”

  “It's Central Park at midnight.”

  “Who knows? Maybe these guys just need directions.” I push as much humor into my shaky voice as possible.

  As we talk, the two men move closer, boxing us in.

  “Wallet, watch, jewelry,” one guy orders, his voice gruff.

  “So that's a no to the directions,” I say on a giggle. Shit, why am I laughing? What is wrong with me? “This is not funny.” Another burst of giggles erupts from my chest. I smack both hands over my mouth. “Sorry,” I mumble.

  “You don't want to do this,” Trey says, his voice hard, all business. “I'm not your normal tourist.”

  Peering around Trey's shoulder, I shrink against his side. “That one's getting closer,” I whisper.

  “They both are, Mess. It's okay.”

  Is it? From where I'm standing, nothing is okay. My legs tremble with the urge to run.

  “Money, now,” the one in front of us demands, more grit in his voice this time.

  “That's a hard pass,” Trey says. His muscles bunch, the arm around my shoulders sliding to my lower back. “Duck and crawl to the edge of the path.” His words barely register before he gives my back a hard shove. Gravity, that bitch, takes care of the first part of his directions. The cheap flip-flops skid a foot after hitting a large patch of wet leaves. My arms are whirling to stay upright as my feet sail into the air. I grunt in pain, my ass smacking to the asphalt.

  Wetness soaks my backside as I blink up at the starless night sky.

  The crack of skin against skin slices through the silence. Shouts from unfamiliar voices, too close. Pitching forward, I slap my hands on the pathway. On all fours, I crawl to the edge of the sidewalk to a spot dipped in shadows. I blink to reset my contacts, clearing my vision.

  The scene in front of me still doesn’t make sense.

  One man stands above two others writhing on the ground at his feet. The man scans the area, searching. Honey brown eyes pause, locking with mine. Hair a mess, jacket ruffled, he gives a cocky smirk. I release my held breath with a whoosh.

  With one more kick to each man's ribs, Trey marches toward me, his strides fast and sure.

  “We need to move. Now.” Hands tucked under my shoulders, he hauls me upright. “They won't stay down for long. Didn’t want to add manslaughter to tonight’s events.”

  I suck in a quick breath with a frantic nod. Right. Good plan.

  We race down the path, my flip-flops sliding on the pavement. His grip on my elbow tightens to keep me from falling. After a few minutes of our fast pace, a stitch stabs at my side and my lungs burn. I wheeze, tugging against his hold to tell him to slow down, but he jerks us off the path. I slide along wet grass as I trail behind him, trying to keep up as he pulls us farther along.

  A large bolder juts out of the ground up ahead, catching my eye. With a sharp tug, I divert us toward the rock, desperate for a break. The uneven surface pokes at my ass and back when I slump onto it in exhaustion.

  I track Trey as he paces back and forth just in front of where I collapsed, never going more than one foot in either direction.

  “That was intense,” I say between breaths. Maybe I should move cardio up on the to-do list when we get back. “You pushed me.”

  Trey pauses, tipping his head back. “That's what you want to focus on right now?”

  “Yeah. You should apologize.” I'm kidding, but the tension radiating off him is freaking me out. I need something to distract him or he'll wear a rut into the soft earth beneath his pounding feet. “I fell on my ass. It hurts.”

  He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and steps forward to stand directly in front of me. Pushing up, I rest both elbows back and cock my head.

  “I saved your life, and you want me to apologize for getting you out of the way?”

  I nod. A new, sizzling tension pulses between us. The chill in the air evaporates. My skin heats, my pulse skyrocketing higher and tighter.

  I hold a tight breath as he leans closer. His large hands rest against the rock on either side of my hips. Shifting closer, he pauses, our faces an inch apart.

  “I'm not sorry.” His warm breath brushes against my cheek, and my eyes flutter closed on a sigh. “Randi.” My name is a desperate plea on his lips. I peel my eyes open, locking onto his. “What are you doing to m
e?”

  “I don't know,” I breathe. “But we shouldn't.” I reach up, my damp, trembling fingers hovering just over his cheek. “But I can't stop either.”

  “It's dangerous.” He tilts his head, pressing his hot cheek into my awaiting palm. Rough facial hair from his five-o'clock shadow prickles my fingertips as I brush them across his face. His brown eyes shutter closed. “This can't happen.”

  I ghost my fingers over his temple, across his forehead. Soft, silky dark strands of his hair glide past my hand as I rake it over his scalp down to the base of his neck.

  “Fuck,” he says on a forced breath. “You're killing me, Randi. Stop.”

  “I told you,” I whisper. Sitting up a fraction, I shorten the distance between our lips. “I can't. I want this.” A zap of blazing heat scorches through my core at the brush of my lips against his. “No, Trey, I need this.”

  A truer statement has never been said. I need him. Right here, right now.

  His answering growl sends another bolt of excitement and want to the apex of my thighs.

  “Anyone could walk up.” I whimper at the thought. His answering chuckle is dark and seductive. I suck in a sharp inhale at his soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin of my neck. “You like that, don't you? Didn't expect that.”

  I give his hair a sharp tug in response to his tentative nip just below my ear.

  “Trey,” I beg.

  He rips the hat off my head, fingers delving into my hair and gripping a section at the base. I gasp at the dominance in his hold. Soft lips brush against my own, teasing. I can't move; desperation ratchets higher and higher.

  “This never happened,” he growls, then seals his lips over mine. I groan into his mouth, pushing in a plea for more. His hand dips beneath my loose sweatshirt, his callused palm scraping along my stomach.

  Pushing off the rock, I arch into his touch. Higher and higher his hand slides. Deft fingers dip inside my bra, yanking the cup low so my breast spills over.

  My thoughts whirl. Normally this is when I'm ready for the guy to stick it in and get the show on the road. But now, here with Trey… I'm actually longing for each touch. Every kiss and swipe of his tongue along mine makes the throb between my thighs pulse with more need.

  His lips curl against mine in a smile as he pinches my pebbled nipple between his thick fingers. I cry into his mouth as pain and pleasure mix. Panting, I tip my head back and shove my breast into his hand, begging for more.

  Fuck, that was hot.

  Another tight pinch, this time with a quick twist. I cry out, only for it to be smothered by his palm sealing to my lips. “Good girl,” he praises.

  I whimper into his palm at the loss of the hand from my breast. Not wasting any time, he dips a hand below the waistband of my sweatpants, sliding over the front of my satin thong.

  “Yes,” I mumble. The hand at my mouth disappears, replaced by his demanding mouth once again. I nip at his lower lip like I've fantasized.

  With the heel of his hand, he presses against my clit, rotating in slow circles.

  More. I need more.

  The uneven rock snags the cotton sweatpants as I spread my legs wide, giving him access to do his worst.

  Two fingers dip beneath my panties, sliding easily through the building slickness.

  “Holy fuck.” He rips his lips from mine before pressing them to my neck. “If we were somewhere safe…. I want to see all of you. See this soaked pussy, lick up every last drop.”

  Yes, please.

  My elbow slips. Carefully he guides me back, releasing the hold on my hair and resting me against the cold stone.

  Low gray clouds blow through the sky above me before my eyes shutter closed. I arch against the boulder as two thick fingers tease outside my slick entrance, plunging in an inch before slowly easing out.

  “You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met, Randi Sawyer. And you smell—” He dips low, pressing his nose between my thighs and giving an exaggerated sniff, “—fucking delicious.”

  Accenting his dirty words, both fingers plunge deep.

  I bite down on my forearm to keep from screaming out.

  Reaching down, I grip his wrist as it jerks in pounding strokes. I rock forward, meeting the relentless push of his fingers.

  Higher and higher I float above the world, every nerve, sensation, and thought focused on the ball of energy building deep in my core. Sweat drips along my hairline. Goose bumps spread over my stomach at exposure to the chilly night air.

  I whimper, shaking my head against the rock.

  “Come on, Mess. Give it up,” Trey commands. The deep rumble of his demanding voice combined with a pinch and twist at my pebbled nipple sets off an explosion.

  I sink my teeth into my arm, but still my scream of pleasure echoes around us. My thighs squeeze together, capturing his hand, but his fingers continue to pound deep, prolonging the mind-altering orgasm.

  “Holy fuck,” I pant, reality settling back in as I come down from my high.

  Tipping my chin, I look down my body to where Trey's hand still rests inside my pants. I glance up to his face. His hooded eyes are focused on where his hand cups my mound.

  “Trey?” I whisper.

  “We need to go,” he responds, eyes sliding up to meet mine.

  I bite back a whimper as he withdraws his fingers, leaving me achingly empty. Embarrassment warms my cheeks, my movements jerky as I fix my bra and underwear. Trey backs up a step as I push off the rock to stand. I keep my eyes to the ground, attempting to conceal the self-conscious thoughts sprinting through my mind.

  “Stop.” I jerk my head up, brows raised. “Don’t do that. Don’t think anything negative. We have to leave because I can't focus on anything other than you, and that's dangerous for both of us. Anyone could've walked up just now and I wouldn't have detected them, too wrapped up in the feel of your pussy squeezing the fuck out of my fingers and imagining my….” My eyes dip to where he grips his crotch and adjusts himself. “Fuck. We need to go, or I'll fucking toss caution to the wind and take you right here.”

  “I'm okay with that,” I say, a shy smile tugging at my lips.

  “I'm not going to fuck you in the middle of the park on a damn rock. You deserve better than that, Randi.” Debatable. “Plus, we need to get back before Tank calls in the national guard looking for us. We're already going to pay for being out this late. Don't want to push our luck too much in one night.”

  Leaning forward, he presses his lips against my forehead. I let my eyes flutter closed as a deep, relaxed exhale eases my racing mind. We both know this can't happen again, that we can't happen.

  But knowing it can't happen doesn't mean it won't.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Randi

  October

  Stuck with a dangerously hot man nearly around the clock is torture in itself. Add in the unforgettable memory of his hand between my thighs, the erotic pain shooting from my nipples dampening my center, and I'm a woman on the edge of sanity. For the third time in as many seconds, my attention flicks from the iPad in my hands to where Trey lies sprawled along the couch, eyes closed. His chest rises and falls with each deep, relaxed breath.

  How is he not wound up too? Does he not feel the thick sexual tension that’s only worsened these past few weeks? The easy smiles he's given me since that night, the sexy smirks and casual laughter, make me wonder if it's just me feeling it.

  Surely not.

  Surely.

  Right?

  “What, Mess?” Trey peeks an eye open. “Stop chewing your nails.”

  I drop the finger from my nibbling teeth. “Okay, Dad.”

  He closes his eye once again and smirks. Oh, how I want to smack—or kiss—that smirk right off his face.

  Ugh, this man is driving me crazier then I already am.

  I purse my lips and turn my focus back to the iPad. I've already memorized the possible questions for the debate tonight, but with a few hours to kill before I have to get ready, I mi
ght as well review them again. Being overly prepared is how I graduated with honors in undergrad and law school. For those seven years, I averaged three hours a sleep a night, but I did what I had to do. Unfortunately, that sleep cycle stayed with me after I graduated and moved back home. Nowadays, I get around four to five hours a night, but with the stress of the upcoming election, I've reverted back to the measly three.

  I groan as the screen blurs once again and toss the iPad to the vacant chair beside me. Letting my head fall against the back of my chair, I close my eyes and press the heels of both hands against my lids.

  “I'm so ready for this to be done,” I mutter.

  “Tonight's the last debate before the election, right?”

  Eyes still squeezed shut, I nod. “Thank fuck. I enjoy a good debate, don't get me wrong, but I'm so tired of monitoring the polls, constantly being on edge.”

  “It won't stop if you win.”

  I roll my head along the soft cushion and open my eyes, smiling up at T.

  “Yes and no. It will be exhausting in a different way. I'm just tired of this posturing, the constant need to be invited to sit at the cool kids’ lunch table.”

  Trey laughs from his spot on the couch.

  “We need to leave in four hours,” T says, looking at his watch. “I'm meeting with the vice president’s alpha team lead downstairs in five to go over the security plans for tonight.” He shoots a glare at Trey before turning to me. “Can you two stay out of trouble while I'm gone?”

  “Come on, big guy,” Trey says, swinging his legs over the side of the couch to sit up. “It's been weeks since 'the incident.' We've been good ever since.” I smile at the smirk and wink Trey tosses my way. “You go handle whatever you need. I promise we won't leave the condo.” Three fingers in the air, he adds, “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a Boy Scout,” T grunts in an almost laugh. He runs a hand up and over his shiny bald head. “I don't have a choice, since the other guys are downstairs securing the building. I'll be back in an hour, two tops.” At the door, he turns with a resigned look.