The Revenge Games Duet

by Kat T. Masen

  “You don’t touch any women and they don’t touch you.”

  “Fine,” Ash agrees, wincing and letting out another loud belch. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” He bolts off to the restroom leaving the two of us alone at the table. The remaining patrons have vacated the premises, leaving only the two of us and the waiter in the room.

  “So, does that rule count for me? Or am I free to do whoever I please?”

  She glances up from her plate, her blue eyes wild and staring at me with curiosity. “You’re free to do whoever you please. You’re not tied to anyone.”

  “I’m not,” I say freely, keeping my gaze fixed. “So, what’s the deal with you and Wesley?”

  “No deal. We’re just filming.”

  “As a couple?”

  “For the sake of the network. Yes.”

  “But you live together?”

  “Technically, yes.”

  I remain quiet, unsure of why my heart rate spikes and why my fist is clenched on the table. She stares blankly. The unanswered questions swirling in my mind drive me to the brink of insanity, but I have no right to put her on the spot because she has her life and I have mine.

  “Go on. Ask the question. You want to know if we’re still sleeping in the same bed or if I’m fucking him. Right?” She waits for my response, irritated we’re even talking about this. “The answer is no, Logan. I don’t fuck him.”

  “I never asked.”

  “I can see it burning on the tip of your tongue. He cheated on me. He was the one who broke our relationship,” she reminds me.

  “Interesting. Were you not the one who just told Ash that hand-jobs are classed as cheating?”

  “Yeah, so?” She shrugs.

  I lean in closer, purposely making her uncomfortable. “So, me fingering that tight little pussy of yours is not cheating?”

  I expect her to blush, squirm in her seat, and make this moment awkward. But of course, Emerson Chase has to have the last word, the only woman to never back down. “In my mind we were already broken up. So, get off your high horse because you getting me off meant nothing more than that.”

  Fuck. Me.

  Ash thunders back complaining that his ass will be burning for days, and now he knows what it feels like when women complained his dick’s too big.

  It’s enough for Emmy to almost throw up on the table.

  We call for the check before making our way outside. There’s two men wearing baseball caps standing on the opposite side of the road. They keep to themselves though look in our direction every few seconds. LA is swarming with paparazzi, it’s one of the reasons why I hate visiting the place.

  We chat briefly about tonight with Emmy agreeing to pick us up at eight. The network’s organized a limo expecting a huge viewership of this episode. She told us she’ll need to let them know we’re riding, and if the footage is to air it will require our consent as well.

  Ash hurries the conversation, climbing into the car, rushing to get back to the hotel in case his ass explodes again. We take off and with Ash’s erratic driving, I should offer to take the wheel considering this is a rental. He seems to know his way around, ignoring the GPS and cussing at drivers who are observing the actual speed limit.

  Emmy’s been the only girl to ever challenge me. She knows how to get to me and her comment in the restaurant doesn’t leave me so easily. I know I’m competitive, but my desire to make her squirm overtakes any rational thoughts I once had about Emerson Chase.

  Me: Tell me something, Emerson Chase. Would me fucking you also be classed as nothing more?

  That will put her in her place. I really wish there’s some sort of visual contact so I can see her face turn bright red.

  Emerson: I don’t know Logan Carrington. Give it a try and see how you go.

  I stare at my phone, almost gulping as I read the message. It’s not like it took her minutes to respond where she had time to think about it—that reply was instantaneously.

  My fingers can’t type because I’m confused and unsure of how to respond. All I can think about is thrusting my cock inside her. Placing my lips on her clit and tasting her sweet pussy once I’ve blown inside her. All the things you shouldn’t be thinking about because the man beside you is your best friend, her brother.

  I place my cell in my pocket avoiding any further contact for now, at the same time Ash swerves into a gas station and runs for his life, leaving me alone in the car.

  The temptation’s too high.

  And so, I type...

  Me: You’re asking me to do something dangerous, Emerson. If you know me, you know I never back down from a challenge.

  The bubble lingers for what feels like minutes. Ash walks out of the restroom with a relieved look on his face. He climbs into the car and gives me a rundown about how dirty it was inside, and how his ass is literally burning, and he doesn’t think he can go out tonight. I’m half paying attention to him until her message appears on my screen.

  Emerson: Ditto.

  “Can you believe Emmy telling me not to score tonight?”

  Yes, I can. Emmy has always believed that if you commit to something you have to stick it through. Relationships are no different. And despite her telling us the ins and outs of cheating, she knows very well what she’d done with me was wrong.

  It was nothing more than a lover’s revenge.

  Driven by anger, hurt, and wanting to make Wesley Rich feel as small as she was feeling.

  I should walk away. Remove myself from this tangled web.

  But I want in.

  All in.

  I want her revenge and everything that comes with it.

  Chapter Ten

  “One of the deadliest combinations is

  butterflies and jealousy.

  Then, you know your heart’s in real trouble.”

  ~ Emerson Chase.

  Logan’s last message renders me speechless. I know him well enough not to back down. Play the game and you won’t look like the fool who got jealous when you threw in that comment of him fucking all of Hollywood.

  I’m standing in my wardrobe wearing my black-laced bra and matching panties, wondering what I should wear tonight. I really don’t want Ash and Logan to come, but I felt like I was backed into a corner. It’s not that I don’t enjoy their company. I just know Wes can be a dick and he’s never met Logan which means he will go out of his way to be an even bigger dick.

  The texts between us are fun, but I’ve left it at that. Logan’s never showed interest in me before the night at the lake, and these flirtatious conversations are merely a part of everyday life from a man with a long belt. At least that’s what I continue to tell myself.

  The black off-the-shoulder dress is calling my name, paired with some heels which lace all the way up my legs stopping just underneath my knees. I place the shoes on first, knowing it’s a mission to get these laces tied up. As gorgeous as they are they’re a massive pain in the ass to get on.

  My cell is lying on the white carpet beneath my feet. Leaning down, I notice Mom’s name flash on the screen.

  “What’s up, Mom? I’m literally knee-deep in this leather heel that’s a blessing and curse.”

  “Are those the ones you wore to that award show where that rapper gave you his number, and you had to tell him he had food stuck in his grill?”

  “Your attention to detail is priceless, Mom.” I laugh. “And yes, they’re the hooker heels.”

  “Must be a special occasion.”

  “Just a party at Scarlett’s house. Did I tell you Ash and Logan are coming?”

  I hear the pause, followed by the sound of the oven timer chiming in the background.

  “Your brother will be the death of me. Did I tell you I had a lengthy conversation with Alessandra, or how he likes to call her, Sandy?”

  “Was it over the wet towels on the bed?” I cringe because my brother’s a slob. “Or how he cuts his toenails in bed?”

  “It was over them having an argument when
he left. It seems she doesn’t understand his lifestyle. The traveling part. I tried to explain it without getting involved. The last thing I want to be known as is the nosey mother-in-law.”

  “How about the mother-in-law who writes about cowboys getting it on in the barn with the farmer’s wife?”

  “You laugh now, but that bestseller paid for your ballet lessons which you gave up after one recital,” she points out.

  “Yeah, yeah… thanks, Mom,” I tease gently. “Listen, I have to go. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck?” she questions. “With what, kid?”

  Dammit. I haven’t been honest with Mom about what happened with Wesley. Every time she brings him up, I quickly answer then steer the conversation to a different subject. I don’t know why I struggle with it. Usually, I tell her everything. A part of me honestly believes if I told her the truth, it will make it harder to live a lie in front of the cameras.

  “Things have been difficult between Wesley and me. I hope tonight we can relax,” I half admit.

  “I figured that,” she soothes over the phone. “I’m here, kid. No judgment. Okay?”

  “I know, Mom.”

  We hang up the call and I feel a bit better about how I left things with us.

  With my shoes now on, I slip into my dress when Wesley walks in. He knows better than to walk in unannounced but disregards my wishes, standing behind me wearing his designer jeans and a dark gray shirt with his sleeves rolled up.

  I hate that a part of me still desires him. The part which remains confused and hurt by his actions.

  If only his hands hadn’t touched someone else.

  If only he didn’t think that destroying our relationship was okay.

  Taking a deep breath in, I turn around while placing my earrings on.

  “You look good,” he says, adjusting his cuffs.

  “Thank you. So do you, I guess.”

  “You guess?” He places his hand on his heart, making a pained face with a smile. “Ouch. Okay, I deserve that.”

  “You deserve a lot of things.”

  “And not you, right?”

  “You know where I stand with our relationship.”

  Wes bows his head then lifts it again only for his eyes to meet mine and they’re full of desperation.

  “It’s been weeks, Em, and the only time you’ve let me touch you is when we’re filming. Don’t you understand how sorry I am? I’d do anything to take it back, but I just can’t, okay?”

  “This isn’t the time to talk about it. The limo should be downstairs waiting, and I forgot to tell you Ash and Logan are coming. We’ll pick them up,” I say quickly while grabbing my purse and checking my hair one more time, avoiding his apology.

  ***

  It’s an awkward limo ride over to Scarlett’s house. I finally introduce Wesley to Logan and almost instantly there’s this weird tension. Thank God Ash talks about his restroom mayhem the entire ride over.

  “Are you sure you didn’t order a different curry to mine?”

  “Positive.”

  “And you didn’t go to the bathroom once?”

  “Nope. Iron stomach.”

  “I just don’t get it.” He shakes his head.

  “So, why are you both in town?” Wes places his hand on my knee, a gesture which generally wouldn’t bother me but right now, it does.

  There’s a visible flush in Logan’s cheeks. His eyes follow the movement of Wes’ hand as they rest on top of my knee. With his mouth turned down he speaks through clenched teeth, “We’re trying out for the US soccer team.”

  “Nice.”

  I want to strangle Wes for being a stuck-up, arrogant jerk.

  We carry on with some small talk about the latest movies and who’ll be at the party. Ash keeps the conversation rolling, talking non-stop so the tumbling tumbleweed won’t roll past us. I know how he feels about Wesley, but he’s never one to keep his mouth shut.

  Ash switches topics to the relief of Wesley who looks bored with the conversation. “So, I guess I forgot to say congratulations. You know, with the engagement.”

  Wesley keeps his smile fixed, not letting on we aren’t together. He slides his hand above my knee until it’s resting on my hemline. I wriggle to move it away, only for him to grip tight. “Thank you. Your sister is quite the catch.”

  “Just take care of her, or else you’ve got me and Logan to answer to,” Ash warns in a serious tone.

  “Right. Of course, I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

  Wesley places his arm around me, moving my hair to the side and kissing the crook of my neck. Across from where we sit, Logan looks at me with deep curiosity. No other emotion on his face aside from that. His muscles are flexed underneath the navy, short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing, his fingers tapping impatiently on the headrest beside him. His expression turns to boredom then he stares out the window uninterested.

  “We’re here,” I announce with some relief.

  Scarlett’s mansion is a large, modern home hidden behind many trees to keep the property private. In the last few years, any movie she’s starred in has become a blockbuster hit. The tabloids are forever in a frenzy over her love life. She apparently dates actors and funnily enough, our friendship began when she was rumored to be dating Wes.

  Stories like that never faze me, so when I ran into her during a red-carpet event, we had a good old laugh and ended the rumor mill right there.

  Scarlett’s the most wanted woman in the industry. She’s barely in town, but when she has some downtime, we usually catch up for dinner or drinks. I admire her ability to juggle it all and I often seek guidance about how to cope with this demanding lifestyle we call showbiz.

  There’s a small booth at the bottom of the driveway with two security guards checking the guests’ names off on a list. Our limo drives through and up the steep hill until we stop out the front of the house. I can’t be more grateful. There’s way too much testosterone in the car and I’m desperate to escape.

  Our regular camera crew are already positioned out front. Scarlett has given permission for the network to use footage for our show providing she approves the final edit. She told them they can only film in the foyer, living room, and outdoor area, where most of the guests are congregated.

  “Okay guys, we need you to walk into the house. We’ll film you entering from here.” Josie points to the statue that sits out front. “Then Karl will come in from the right.”

  Ash waves goodbye, heading into the house with Logan beside him. I wait for Logan to turn around but he doesn’t. He’s looking too eager to join Ash and the loud music streaming from the house.

  I take a deep breath while waiting for Josie to hook me up with the mic. She clips it on and tucks the rest of the unit into the back of my dress then does the same to Wes. I try to keep my shoulders poised as Wes holds my hand while walking into the foyer.

  “Emerson,” Scarlett yells from the top of the stairs. She steps down, wearing nine-inch gold heels looking absolutely stunning in a white jumpsuit. Taking each step slow, she finally hits the bottom level and greets me with a double air kiss before leaning over to Wes and doing the same, careful not to smudge her signature red lipstick. “I’m glad you guys made it.” She walks us outside, linking her arms between ours. “Drinks are over there, make yourself comfortable, and please excuse the hoard of Playboy Bunnies that somehow got invited to the party.”

  It not difficult to find them. You only have to look at every man and where their eyes are directed to spot them huddled in the corner—fake boobies in tow. Wesley laughs, making some joke about ‘how many blondes does it take to change a light bulb.’ I’m not listening to his answer. Instead, my eyes move around the room until I find the only male not staring at them, but rather they’re staring at me—Logan.

  I want to go and talk to him, but Wesley pulls me in the direction of the bar. He orders some drinks then becomes distracted talking to some friends of his. Thankfully, Scarlett’s beside me and ushers me to the ta
ble sitting by the pool.

  “Okay, so we want you to talk about what’s been happening in your lives.” Josie lowers the camera, adjusting the lens and zooming in to where we sit, the boom mic held firmly above our heads and out of shot. “Scarlett, can you please move a little bit back?”

  Scarlett adjusts her position as per Josie’s direction. Josie turns the camera on while I pretend she’s not there, jumping straight into conversation. “So, I’ve been offered a deal to expand the fitness line to Europe,” I tell her, proudly.

  “Em! That’s great news. Does that mean you’ll be spending time there?”

  “Umm… not too much time. I’d be lonely, my family’s back here.”

  “Speaking of family… Ash and Logan are quite something.” She grins.

  “Something, as in talented?”

  “Logan Carrington,” she mouths slowly with a smirk. “Mister Sports Illustrated.”

  I don’t know how we got onto this topic so quickly, and I hate being filmed while talking about Logan.

  “And Ash modeling those sports boxers for Adidas... how do you sleep at night?”

  “Well,” I say with a mouthful of champagne. “Usually great, but maybe not so much tonight since you brought up my brother in underwear.”

  “Oh, I get it. But Em... your brother is sexy.”

  I scrunch my nose, disgusted by her comment. I’ve heard many women talking about Ash like a sex object and it gets grosser every time.

  “Okay, sorry.” She raises her hand laughing. “And Logan? Is he seeing anyone?”

  I shake my head instantly. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him that question. Soccer players talk about one thing only… the game.”

  I’m well aware of the pang of jealousy that hits me. For all I know, he could be dating someone and all these flirtatious back-and-forths are merely to fill in his time. I scan my brain to find another topic to talk about, quick to change the subject to her latest movie. “I can’t believe you’re filming in Australia next month. I’d love to go visit.”