Struck By You: Players (3 page)

Oh geez, poor girl.
The game is no different if you’re a guy or a girl. It’s psychological and you learn to read your prey. Tell them what they want to hear until you get what you want, it’s that simple.

I sighed. “Gloria honey, you just got played, that’s all. At least he didn’t drag it on. He wooed you and got it over with quickly, and you need to get over this just as quickly,” I said. “Take it as a learning experience. At least you got laid,” I said trying to make her smile but she cried more. I gave her a hug and she let go abruptly.

“I’ve got go, he’s here and I don’t want him to see me this way. Is there another way out of here?” she asked, franticly putting her stuff away in her gym bag.

“Uh yeah, that fire exit door leads to the back of the building,” I said showing her.

“Thank you, I’ll see you…sometime,” she said and ran out.

I couldn’t help feeling bad for her as she ran out of the studio. Poor girl had been through a lot and this was no way of getting her feet wet.

“You look really good considering you probably didn’t sleep much last night,” said the deep manly, sexy voice startling me from behind.

I turned around to look at him; this time I had no trouble looking into his eyes. “I do, don’t I?” I said with a smirk and walked back to the teaching area.

I decided today I was going to focus on flexibility and step things up a bit with the poses, especially those hard on men. Tall and handsome was the only guy in class today so that alone would make it twice as much fun.

I was sweating but feeling really good after class. As I was leaving, I walked by him and glanced at him. “That was interesting,” he exhaled.

I smiled. “Hope you enjoyed it.”

“Not particularly, but I’ll get better.” He winked and put a towel around his neck as he walked out with me. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself,” he said. “I’m Mason Hayes.” He extended his hand to shake mine.

“Riley Jones,” I replied.

“A pleasure,” he said and let go of my hand.

I kept walking towards the showers and he followed. “So Ms. Jones, I was thinking, since you put me through so much pain during class,” he began, “the least you could do to make it up to me is join me for lunch,” he said casually.

“Is that so?” I said turning to look at him.

“Well yeah, the way I see it, I may not come to class tomorrow due to injury, so instead of suing you, having lunch with me would at least show me you didn’t do it on purpose,” he replied.

“And why would I do that? It is advanced yoga,” I retorted.

“I thought about that, but then again I did see you talking to Gloria earlier this morning which implies probable cause,” he replied smirking.

“You should know better than to shit where you eat,” I replied.

He laughed. “I guess I should. Can’t help myself sometimes,” he said stopping in the middle of the dark hallway. We were about five feet from the shower area.

“I should sue your ass for losing me a client. She may not be coming back because of you,” I said crossing my arms.

“I could build a good defense against that,” he said, getting close to me.

“Oh, you’re a lawyer.”

“Just passed the bar exam with flying colors,” he said, putting his arm on the wall, moving even closer.

“Congratulations,” I exhaled.

“So let me take you to lunch,” he spoke softly, looking at my lips.

“And then what?” I whispered.

He smiled. “There’s a hotel across the street, or my place five minutes from here,” he whispered.

“I’m not hungry,” I replied, looking at his lips.

“I am,” he said and kissed me. I kissed him back and only because like him, his kiss was perfect. He was passionate, and he pulled my hair a bit which was a huge turn on and a glimpse of how he could take charge in the bedroom.

I pushed him back. “Hold on a sec,” I whispered and reached for my keys. He kept kissing my neck and pulling me toward him. “Come with me,” I whispered.

I opened an unlabeled door close to us, leading to a dark hallway with another door at the end. He pushed me against the wall and kissed me again, this time feeling my body over my clothes. “You are so fucking sexy,” he whispered. I pulled away again, but I took his hand this time and led him through the last door.

It was a massage room with a shower. The room itself was never used because it was too hidden away from the rest. So I was the only one that used it if the showers were too busy in the common area.

“Take a shower with me,” I whispered, pulling his t-shirt off. I pulled him toward me by the elastic of his shorts and he kissed me again as I pulled them down. He took my tank top off and slid both his hands inside my yoga pants, squeezing my butt cheeks and pulling my pants down violently. He was hard and like the rest of him, had a perfect large cock which I stroked as he kissed me, making him twitch and moan with every soft stroke and tug I gave him.

We got into the hot shower together and kept kissing. “You taste so good, I want to kiss every inch of you,” he exhaled as he kissed my breasts.

“Go down on me,” I whispered.

“Yes ma’am,” he said smiling at me and did not hesitate. He picked me up and laid me down on the leather massage bed. I closed my eyes as he started sucking on my clit and sticking his fingers in me. He opened me wider and used his tongue inside and outside; he was all over and I was gripping on to what I could because he was so damn good at it. He grabbed my hips strongly and played harder with his tongue and I lost it – he had me screaming in pleasure and he did not stop until I was done.
He came back to my lips and kissed me hard.

“My turn,” he whispered.

“Yeah, not now,” I said pushing him off me. I got up and turned the shower back on.

“Wait. What?” he asked. I looked at him and smiled – he was flabbergasted and fully erect.

“You said you were hungry,” I retorted. “Close the door on the way out,” I said getting in the shower.

“Are you serious?” I heard him say.

I turned up the hot water and waited for him to leave. When the door closed behind him I got out of the shower and got ready to meet my sister for lunch.

As I walked to my sister’s office I couldn’t help feeling guilty – it was very difficult to let him go like that. I wanted him and I wanted him badly, and I knew this would come back to haunt me. The fact that he was a client here was one thing: he could make my life hell but if he was anything like me, he’ll let it go and act as if nothing happened. 

 
Chapter 4
Mason

     As I turned the buzzing off on my alarm clock, I lay in bed thinking about her –  in fact I barely got any sleep last night because of her. She completely threw me off my game yesterday.
What the hell was that?
It was as if she had me pegged the entire time: she flirted, resisted, and then gave in, further than I anticipated, but I was more than willing. She had a gorgeous face and a hot body and those piercing blue eyes of hers. I’ve never been into blondes – not that I would turn one down given the opportunity – but this girl was an exception, she was exquisite. Something about her made me curious. It was the way she stared at me when she was spying while I was getting that massage and then again maybe I was wrong about her; maybe she wasn’t into me. So the only conclusion I could come up with was that she found out about Gloria, and then she played me. No, that’s fucked up, women don’t do shit like that, at least none that I’ve met in the past. Maybe I’m losing it, losing my touch, maybe this interview today has got me so strung out that I turned her off somehow.

Oh shit, the interview.

I had spent the past half hour in bed self-pitying over some chic and now there was a good chance I was going to be late to quite possibly the most important interview of my career. It was 8:15 and I had to be at the firm in thirty minutes.

     By the time I got there, it was 8:42. The new executive assistant to Hayes Associates kept glancing at me over the top of her flat-screen monitor every once in a while and asked me at least three times if I wanted something to drink. Suddenly she got a call and hung up after a few seconds. She got up and walked toward me. She was a gorgeous brunette with a sweet face and her hair worn out, perfectly brushed and straight. She wore a navy suit and a white dress shirt that showed just enough of her appetizing cleavage, with long, beautiful legs with a skirt long enough to make you wonder. She smiled as she caught me appreciating her. “Mr. Hayes will see you now Mr. Hayes,” she said.

    
This is it
. I stood up smiled and went into my father’s office.

After a grueling interview with my father and the other partners, I was out of there two hours later and with no definite answer whether he was giving me the job or not. That was the thing with dear old dad: he made us crawl for everything we had. Even as kids, we had to prove to him we were worthy. When my parents finally divorced after many unhappy years of marriage, he told my brother and me that mom would spoil us and he was right, she did. She remarried a few years later to a very wealthy man who loved her very much and with that, came buying our love with whatever we wanted. Carl, my stepdad, sent us to private school, paid for our education and when we graduated from university, he set us up in our own condos in his properties. My father on the other hand was there for us emotionally, but when the time came for me to apply to law school and I asked him for a reference he said no, telling me to earn it on my own. So I did, and after three tries and very close to giving up, I was in. Now there was an opening at his firm for a junior partner and he had his eyes set on me, but he made it clear I would have to apply with the rest of candidates, and that he would give me no preference.

Had it been anyone else, I would have applied to a smaller firm, but my father owned the most prominent corporate law firm in the city – I had no choice.

I was on my way home when I felt my phone vibrate inside my suit jacket pocket. It was my older brother, Tanner.

“Hey bro, how did the interview with our asshole father go?’ he asked loudly. My brother had a distinct tone of voice when it came to dad.

“You know dad, he made it difficult, but I think I handled it well.”

“Of course you did, he’ll call you in a week or so, make you sweat the entire time,” began Tanner. “But listen, fuck that shit, you, me and the boys are going out tonight, to celebrate.”

I laughed. “What are we celebrating?”

“My buddy Rick is getting married, the stupid fuck,” he said.

“No fucking way,” I retorted.

“Yeah well, he got her pregnant and now he’s screwed, so we’re taking him to The Palace.”

“How the hell did you swing that? It’s impossible to get in that guest list,” I replied.

“I talked to Carl and he promised not to tell mom, so bring a lot of cash, and meet me at my place at 6:30,” he said and hung up.

My brother is four years older than I. He refused to follow dad’s footsteps and went into architecture instead and was now working with Carl as a project manager, learning the ropes with Carl to eventually become a lead architect.

My brother was a bachelor and planned to keep it that way. Because he was older, he witnessed and understood what was going on through my parent’s ugly divorce. I think this affected him greatly psychologically and hence the perpetual bachelor was born in his early teens. I quickly learned my ways from him and I got better, much better as I got older.

By 6:45 Tanner, Rick, Preston, and myself were queuing at the VIP lineup of The Palace. We’ve been trying for years to get into this bar but we never had an in. Well we did, but we couldn’t ask Carl without having our mother find out. She was angry enough at us that we never brought a girl home. Telling her we wanted to go to the most famous strip club in the city was not the best idea.

The Palace was built in the top floor of one of Carl’s buildings. It had its own private back entrance and its own elevator so it would not disturb the residents that lived in that condominium.

The idea was pitched to Carl by his personal friend, the owner of The Palace. Carl liked the idea that only the elite would be allowed in; he wouldn’t have it any other way since putting a place like that in one of his buildings and having something happen could tarnish his spotless reputation. So three years ago The Palace opened its doors and we were finally here.

Limos and expensive cars began to drive in, stopping at the main and door letting passengers out and/or being taken away by the valet. Stretch limos began to drive in and the ladies stepped out, the security guards quickly letting them in as many of us were whistling and getting a bit rowdy. The boys and I were standing very close to the door so we had an exceptional view of who was coming in. I had already seen at least three prominent celebrities and some politicians. Limo after limo, women and guests were coming in, and suddenly I heard the low growl of a V8 coming in the narrow driveway. Sure enough it was a mean-looking Camaro, black with custom racing stripes in a deep red, aftermarket alloys and aftermarket exhaust and judging by the thump of the speakers, a kickass music system. The car stopped in front of the door, its music turned off, and a tall blonde wearing a beige trench coat, with curly hair up in a high ponytail, got out. Not sure what it was, but I felt my chest pounding and even more so when I saw her turn around and walk up giving her keys to the valet. She stopped to talk to him for bit and then she made her way toward the door and there was no doubt about it: that was my yoga instructor, the girl that left me high and dry yesterday. And she was a stripper.