Cards of Love: Three of Swords

by Willow Winters

  Her gaze catches mine and her breathing noticeably hitches. I see it. I see her chest rise, and I can hear her swallow.

  Her lips part, and the glass in her hand nearly falls as she tries to set it back on the bar. Her eyes and both of her hands move to the drink and as her attention shifts to it, I give Ryan a nod. A nod that says, get the fuck away, I’ve got her now.

  His asymmetric smile and the way he slaps the bar and barely gives Sophie a goodbye before taking off behind us tells me everything I need to know.

  “Glad you’re back, Soph,” Ryan says evenly and keeps my gaze, letting his smile grow as he heads back to the pool room to join Brett and Cody.

  He always said she would come back, that it was just a matter of how long before she returned. He kept me from chasing her all the way across the country. They all did. Any other time, they would have told me to go to her.

  The last time was different, though. I didn’t know what happened. I had no fucking clue until it was too late. They told me to give her time, and I did. Now she’s back.

  The pang in my chest doesn’t go unnoticed, but I can’t focus on it. All I can do is watch Sophie, observe her and figure out what her next move is.

  I’m not letting her run this time. So she’d better think of something else.

  Sophie spins all the way around on her seat, her eyes going wide as she watches Ryan’s back and realizes she’s all alone with me. Her throat tightens as she swallows and the color drains from her face.

  Good.

  She licks her bottom lip, keeping her gaze down before she peeks back up at me.

  Her lips part, but no words come.

  It takes a beat, a tick of a clock, a crackle of the fire before she relaxes even the slightest.

  A nervous laugh escapes from her lips and she slowly takes her seat again, slipping her slender fingers around the thin stem of her glass.

  Instantly the air turns easier, hotter.

  For a moment, a short moment while Ryan was here, it felt easy. It felt like I had her back already. But in this second, it all slips away.

  Shifting my weight to my left and then right, getting comfortable where I am and giving her a moment, I lean forward on the bar. My chin rests on my knuckles, my thumb brushing against my bottom lip as I stare her down. Her blue eyes are deep enough to get lost in, but she’s the one who looks like she’s drowning. It only lasts for a moment until her confidence comes back. But I saw it. I know I did.

  “You’re back?” I question her and then I have to clear my throat. I tower over her even though she’s on the barstool when I turn to face her, and lean my hip against the bar.

  The roaring fire behind her highlights every inch of her expression when she nods, not saying a word, not even looking at me and instead lifting the pink drink to her lips.

  I can hear the glass hit the bar top and every other fucking noise in this place until she brings those doe eyes to mine and says, “Yeah, I’m back.”

  I have to control every inch of my expression so I don’t reveal a damn thing. She can’t tell that I’m getting hotter by the second, and my cock is getting harder.

  “For how long?” I ask, and my voice is even and calm, not giving anything away. My nerves prick up my spine, every impulse I have pushing me to slam my lips against hers.

  I remember something Ryan told me once.

  She doesn’t leave you when she knows she’s yours.

  It took me a long fucking time to really get what he meant. When I finally realized how true those words were, it was too late.

  Her eyes drop to her cocktail before they meet my gaze again and she answers, “I got a job here… I think I’m staying.”

  Before I can say anything, she cuts me off. “Can I ask you something?”

  Giving her a nod, I stare into her beautiful eyes, riddled with pain I need to erase.

  “Are you angry at me? Brett and Ryan…” she breathes out deeply, looking away and pushing the hair out of her face before adding, “they said you wouldn’t be angry or upset if you saw me, but I … I know we didn’t leave things off… in a friendly way.”

  “I’m feeling a lot right now, but neither of those things. I missed you, Soph.”

  I hold her gaze for as long as I can, making sure she feels it. This well of emotion I feel inside of me. “I’m not angry,” I add and stop myself from telling her that I’m hurting. I’ve been hurting since the day she left.

  “You need a place to crash?” I ask her, changing the subject as quickly as I can, and she lets out a small laugh at my question.

  Pushing her hair back, she lets a sweet smile play at her lips and says, “Sorry, Ryan bought us shots and I think mine’s hitting me now.”

  The air shifts between us. It’s easier, less tense, and I fucking love it.

  “I don’t need a place to crash… I finally got one of those, you know?” Her voice is even, but there’s a hint of the playfulness she used to give me back then.

  “I heard you were staying with Brett’s sister, but what about here in New York?” I don’t know how my voice is so level. How everything is so calm on the surface.

  She hesitates, as if she doesn’t want to tell me. I know she isn’t with someone else. I’ll fucking kill Brett if she is. He told me he’d let me know. Trish tells him every single thing. My expression must’ve slipped because when Sophie looks up at me she shakes her head slightly, answering my unspoken question.

  She’s quick to place her small hand over mine, comforting me. She always did that. Even if she didn’t do it on purpose, it’s just a piece of who she is. Electricity flows through me and it takes everything in me not to flip my hand over and keep her skin next to mine when she takes her hand away, telling me she got a dream job and they’re paying for her place.

  “SoHo too,” she adds, and then shrugs. “It’s a little fancy, but I just have to add my touches to it.” I can hear the pride in her voice.

  She’s staying in SoHo. Some of the tension leaves my body. She’s in a safe area, and she’s back for good.

  “Like this place. It’s all fancy and chic in this area, but I like it.”

  “You like the bar?” I ask her as I roll up the sleeves of my button-down shirt. My forearms flex as I tuck the cuff links into my pocket and then order us a round. Whiskey for me, and another of what she’s drinking for her.

  Sophie nods sheepishly, her confidence slipping as the drinks land in front of her.

  “You look good in this bar,” I tell her, holding her gaze and watching how she can’t help but to smile. When her teeth sink in to her bottom lip, I know I’ve gotten to her, at least a little.

  “So do you, in your suit and all. A little better than my hoodie, don’t you think?”

  “You can wear whatever you want... or nothing at all.”

  She laughs as I sip my whiskey. “I think the owners might have a problem with that.”

  My cock is stiff as I imagine her lying on this bar right now. “I wouldn’t,” I tell her, not hiding the desire in my voice.

  “You’re bad,” she tells me, but that flirtatious smile is still there. That tension between us rises higher and higher as we slip back into old habits.

  “So are you.”

  Her mouth drops open in disbelief, and she has no fucking clue what it does to me. “I am not,” she says defensively, but she doesn’t realize she’s scooting closer.

  “You like it, that makes you worse.” Her smile widens to a full-blown grin, but she merely licks her lower lip and doesn’t respond.

  “Maybe just bad for me? Is that it?”

  Her fingers toy with the rim of her glass. “You are so bad.”

  “Tell me you love it,” I give her the command, but I’d beg her to admit it to me. So I’ll know I’m not the only one of us that’s crazy for what we had. What we can have tonight.

  “I won’t lie,” she shrugs, “I love it.”

  “Say it.”

  “I love how dirty you are.”

&nb
sp; “Only for you.” The words leave me, and her sexy grin slips as my heart pounds and I turn to the alcohol.

  “To your new job and your new place,” I say as I lift up my shot glass and wait for her to respond.

  “You just want to get me drunk so you can fuck me.”

  “I’ll be fucking you either way, Soph.” The comment comes from me without hesitation. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her that I’ll be punishing her too. She’s fucking mine.

  “I’ve got to go,” she tells me in a single breath; I can practically hear her heart racing now. My hand catches her hip as she slips off the barstool, trying to get around me.

  “Why do you always try to leave me?” I ask her without thinking. My heart beats hard as she stares up at me with wide eyes.

  “You make me feel like I should run.”

  Her answer is immediate, and I wish I had something to say in return. Something to make it better, to keep her here and convince her that she should come home with me.

  “Don’t run tonight.”

  Sophie’s already shaking her head, her eyes closed tight as she gets ready to bite back with some argument. I can already see it.

  And that’s not the girl I want tonight. We can fight tomorrow. Tonight I only want her screaming in pleasure. I miss her too much. I need her too much.

  My hands tangle in her hair as I crash my lips against hers. The electricity, the sparks that flew with just her hand on mine earlier intensify.

  At first she’s stiff, her small hands nearly pushing against my chest. But then she moans, parting her lips and running her fingertips up to my neck, pulling me closer to her as I slip my tongue between the seam of her soft lips.

  Her mouth is warm and inviting as she presses her body against mine, and I have to groan. It comes from deep inside of me. I haven’t felt like this in years. This primal need to get lost in bed with her.

  Her nails scratch down my neck softly, making me that much harder for her. With her breasts pressed against my chest, she lolls her head back to breathe.

  My eyes open slowly, focused on her swollen lips and her half-lidded eyes.

  “Let me tell you what I want,” I say, barely keeping my voice even. I can feel eyes on us and I know some of them belong to my employees, but they can mind their own fucking business.

  My statement brings Sophie back to the present from wherever she’s wandered. She blinks away the desire from her eyes and nods slightly. The intensity still crackles between us as I tell her, “I want you to come home with me.”

  “That’s a bad idea,” she answers in merely a whisper. Her eyes reach mine and she tells me, “You’re a bad idea.”

  “You’ve called me worse,” I answer her and lean down just slightly, enough so I can brush my lips against hers.

  She’s the one who kisses me this time as I pull away, getting up on her tiptoes to steal a quick, but deep kiss. Both of my arms wrap around her and I lower my forehead to hers, not breaking her gaze.

  She has the upper hand here, but I know it will change soon. It can’t change soon enough.

  “We can go back to your place.” The words are sinful on her lips.

  “Good. We’re going to get one thing out of the way in the cab ride. Finish your drink; you’re going to need it.”

  Chapter 4

  Sophie

  The Seven of Cups is the card of indecision. So many things pull at you in so many ways, but when the Seven is dealt, you know you’re getting lost in nothing but fantasy.

  Some would say living in a dream, but when you wake, there’s always a price to pay.

  I wasn’t going to down the drink Madox ordered, but fuck it. One more isn’t going to push me over the edge. Besides, I’m with Madox and whenever I’m with him, there is no edge. All I do is free fall when I’m with him.

  All my best-laid plans of avoiding him are shot to hell.

  I have to remind myself that it’s still a fresh start for me, and I’m still focusing on my career, even if I lose my mind and do stupid things whenever I get within five feet of this man.

  By the time Madox opens the cab door for me, and the night air is blowing against my face, the alcohol is humming in my blood, just like my desire for him to use me.

  Maybe it’s odd, but I feel like I deserve to be used by him, like it’s been a long time coming.

  I’m still going to claim I have boundaries and self-respect. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be fucked though, right?

  With my hand in Madox’s, I lower myself to the seat and pretend like his thumb brushing along my wrist isn’t everything I’ve missed.

  Simple touches, the sweetness of it.

  My heart pangs for something more, but I tell it to shut up. I don’t want to think. I think too much when it comes to him. Or maybe I don’t think enough. Maybe I overthink about nothing with him.

  One thing I know for certain is when he’s close to me, all I can think about is pleasing him. I have an innate need to please him. I want to know more than anything that he’s happy with me – even though I’m well aware it’s not a healthy thought to have.

  I’m left alone as he rounds the car, and that small truth forms a lump in my throat. For a second, I nearly jump out of the back seat and into the street. But his door is open before I can move, and he gives the cab driver his address.

  “Lie down, it’ll help with your headache,” Madox tells me and I’m slow to register what he’s said. “If you’re still feeling hot, take off your hoodie first.” He adds to the cab driver, “She had a little too much to drink tonight.”

  Heat blooms in the pit of my stomach. My fingers tingle as I slowly take off my hoodie, feeling foolish for wearing it and realizing I’m still in the same clothes I wore on the longass plane ride over here. All while Madox is dressed in an undoubtedly expensive slick suit.

  Fuck, he is so out of my league it’s not even funny.

  His large hand rubs a spot on the black leather seat.

  My first thought is that he wants head. Biting my bottom lip, I start to lower my head, but Madox grabs the back of my neck, guiding me where he wants me, which isn’t my nose to his crotch like I was expecting.

  I’ve always thought it was slutty of me to enjoy giving him a blow job. But it turned me on like nothing else to have such a powerful man lose all control when I went down on him. Maybe that’s why I’m slightly disappointed.

  With my breast pressed to his thigh and my cheek laying on the leather of the seat, Madox tells me in a low voice to look at the back of the seat and stay quiet.

  My heart races as I obey him, waiting and wondering, with the anticipation only growing hotter and hotter. Draping the hoodie over my midsection and ass, Madox slips his hand under the fabric and deftly undoes the button and zipper to my jeans. The music in the cab is all I can hear, but adrenaline races through me as I wonder if the cab driver can tell what Madox is doing.

  With his right hand on my shoulder, and his left under the privacy of the hoodie, I peek up at Madox to see him looking straight ahead and seemingly disinterested.

  Even as he shifts my jeans down an inch and then another, slowly exposing my ass to him even though the garment around my waist covers it from any prying eyes.

  I’ve never done anything else with anyone. Nothing.

  Madox was my first and only. And I would do anything with Madox.

  He’s fucked me in bathrooms, dressing rooms and back alleys. He’s eaten me out at restaurants and I’ve given him head in towering skyscrapers when he was just taking over his company. So him playing with me in a cab? It does nothing but make me even hotter for him than I already am.

  I can hear the lace of my underwear tear as Madox asks the cab driver to turn up the music, telling him it’s one of his favorites. I doubt he’s ever even heard this song before. He’s still ripping at my panties when he thanks the driver.

  “Feeling better, sweetheart?” he asks me casually as he shoves a finger inside of my pussy. My lips form a per
fect O as a spike of wanton need shocks my system and I hesitate before answering him, “No, I think I need a moment more.”

  Madox smirks at my response, all the while watching the driver and then asking him to turn the music up louder so he doesn’t fall asleep.

  “We’ll be home in twenty and I’ll take care of you then.” He talks to me as if we’re a couple, a loving couple, like I’m merely hungover and he’s caring for me. All the while he plays with my clit, and I bite down on my lip to keep from being any more obvious than this already is.

  His fingers inside of me, although they fill me and feel like heaven, are fucking offensive.

  Because I remember all too well what his dick can do to me. And I want him. Fuck, he’s only teasing me.

  He pushes in and out of me before licking his fingers, leaving me breathing heavier and waiting for something more.

  He’s quick to slide them back inside of me and my upper body begs to arch, but his hand in between my shoulder blades keeps me down.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you waiting for long,” he whispers when I peek up at him through my lashes. I can hardly hear him and I know for certain the cab driver can’t hear a word we’re saying. My warm breath lingers in the air between my face and the leather of the back of the seat.

  “Madox,” I whine. I actually fucking whine with impatience. As the heat rises up my chest to my cheeks with embarrassment, Madox’s gaze catches fire. The deep greens brighten and the gold flecks flicker to life. The way he looks at me makes my heart race inside my chest. It always has.

  “I fucking love to hear you beg,” he mutters beneath his breath and then lowers his head, bringing his lips to my ear. As he talks, his words cause a shiver to run down my spine, and send nothing but heat to my core. “I’m going to take care of you because I want to. But this right now, this is because I need to.”

  The spark in his eyes steals the air from my lungs. And just then, he curves his fingers, pushing his knuckles against my front wall and I nearly combust on the spot. Air leaves me, my voice leaves me, my body begs to fall off the cliff of my impending release.