Theirs to Play (5 page)

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Authors: Kenya Wright

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Theirs to Play
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Bastard.

He lapped his tongue at that finger like it would give him extra years of life. I’d asked if he really loved whip cream that much. He told me that I would soon find out.

Then Max began with his own sugary seduction.

He dipped his cherry into the chocolate sauce and brought it to my lips. Like a fool, I parted them without realizing it, and he had the nerve to groan. The sound vibrated through my flesh. By the time the bill arrived, I shuffled out of there with mumbled excuses. Sure I’d been Miss Confident at the beginning of the meal, but at the end, they showed me that they wouldn’t go out without a fight.

It was why nerves wrecked my body as I stood outside on the pier, waiting for one of the brothers to arrive. “Which one of you will fail today?”

They asked me to pick who would be the first date. I refused. This was their little battle. I would let them carry out the dumb-assed-ness of the situation, while I enjoyed the perks of the rich life for a few days.

One day I’ll have my own money and the first thing that I will do is get a bodyguard to keep big-headed jerks far from me.

A massive boat sailed my way. Could I even really call it a boat? No. It was a colossal mansion on water. It had three levels, probably more and soared high above the ocean like a cruise ship, just not quite that big.

But too big for two guys. You two can’t do anything subtly can you?

The wind blew against my dress and exposed more of my thighs than I preferred. As the boat pulled in, Frederick stepped out.

Shit.

I’d been hoping for Max. At least he told the truth from the beginning. If I was forced to trust one of them then it would be Max. Frederick also presented more problems, like the fact that he seemed to go crazy with desire anytime I was mean to him. Being that I found him depraved and couldn’t control the insults ripping out of my mouth when he was around, I guessed that he would be turned on this whole date.

You’re just a glutton for punishment.

Once the boat docked, two men in white uniforms marched off with several bouquets of roses in their hands.

Roses? How predictable? It seems I’ll have to teach him how to romance a woman properly before turning him down.

And I would turn him down. There was no way either of the two pigs would get me in bed. The probability was down in the pool of negatives.

The uniformed men came toward me and instead of giving me the flowers they opened the bouquets and shook them a tiny bit. Butterflies flew from under the petals and swarmed around me. Lots of them. Bright colored captivating ones. Lavender wings fluttered near. Ivory creatures with silver dotted wings landed on my shoulders as if to rest. They twirled and dashed around my waist, spreading the air with the roses’ flowery fragrance. I could’ve suffocated on the aroma and been happy to die from it.

Frederick stood in front of me. “Hello, Dawn.”

You’re just so happy with yourself?

“Hello.” I tried my best to wipe the huge smile off my face, but couldn’t do it. I was forced to blame the butterflies. They made me giddy, and he had to know it.

“How did you find out I loved butterflies?” I asked.

“I guessed.”

“You’re lying. Tell me the truth or I will forgo this date.”

His smile widened. “Your credit card bill says you visit the Miami Botanical Gardens three times a week. Further inquiry informed me that you only go to the butterfly garden.”

“It’s illegal to pull up my credit card statements.”

“Money allows people to do many illegal things.”

I raised my finger. “Don’t invade my privacy again.”

“Or I’ll get a lightning bolt to my testicles?”

“Exactly.” I stepped around him and pretended like those lovely butterflies following me up into the yacht weren’t enchanting. Too bad, they wouldn’t let up.

When dealing with these two sexist pigs, I’d hoped to channel some great feminist in the history of women. Someone like Joan of Arc or Virginia Woolf. Sure it seemed a bit much, but this game that I volunteered for was more than us three. This was about lashing back at the theorized alpha male who thought he could do or say anything he wanted just because he had good looks, money, and the stupidity of a swollen ego.

When I walked up the boat’s ramp, I was supposed to appear regal and powerful, courageous and deadly like a lioness. Instead, with all the pretty butterflies swarming around me and stirring up my hair, I looked like a goddamn Disney princess.

And just to add insult to injury, Frederick appeared behind me. “You’re more captivating than Cinderella, right now.”

Fury boiled in my veins. I was hot and ready to bubble over. “Well I’m not Cinderella and you’re no Prince Charming.”

On the center of the ramp, he stepped closer to me. I refused to inch back like a scared little damsel in distress.

But, I probably should have moved away.

Frederick’s masculinity encircled me. It was such a silly thing to think, but it did. His earthy cologne trapped me to him. The profile of muscles under his thin white shirt kept my focus. The wind picked up as if under his command, raising my dress just a little and brushing soft wisps against my flesh. I shivered.

“Oh no,” he whispered to me like a lover to his devoted. “I’m not Prince Charming. I’m the bad guy that sneaks into the castle when Prince Charming is off singing songs in the woods. I’m the one with the big cock that bends needy Cinderella over. And I’m the one that makes her scream until her throat’s raw and she can’t sing a note.”

“I had no idea Cinderella got so much action.” I slipped away and hurried up the ramp, doing my best to outrun the butterflies and Frederick, who I was now going to call the Big Bad Wolf.

Another man in a white uniform helped me onto the boat. Somehow Frederick got to me in time enough to hook his arm around mine and guide me forward. “Are you hungry?”

“Nope. I’m still full from that line you just handed me on the ramp.”

“That wasn’t a line. It was the truth.”

I tossed him a skeptical glance. “So you really have had sex with Cinderella? I should get your autograph.”

“Maybe if you’re nice.” He led me into a small room decorated in shades of beige. There was a vanity table against the wall across from us, along with a bench, and rack of women’s clothing. “My initial research was to get your clothing size. I needed the stores you shopped at and hoped the sales clerk would remember your size.”

I laughed. “And what did you find out?”

“You like to shop at Goodwill.” He frowned. “You do know those are other people’s clothing.”

“Yes. I bet that brought down my sexiness a couple of notches.”

“Actually, I became more intrigued. You’re even thriftier than me.”

“Well, I actually have a budget, where as you have a monetary suggestion.”

“Regardless, I apologize for the invasion of your privacy.” He gestured to the gowns on the rack. “A team and I guessed your sizes.”

“A team? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I never shit people.”

I giggled and he joined along with me.

“Do you want me to put on a gown or something?” I asked.

“No.” He rubbed his hands together. “I want you to take off all your clothes and put on that white robe right there. You’ll need it for your massage. I’m a licensed masseuse.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Do I need to show you my certificate?”

“Is it fake?”

“Definitely.”

“Then I guess you shouldn’t waste both of our time. Give me a few minutes and I’ll change into the robe. I’m interested to see how much you’ve learned from pumping Cinderella.”

“Well, I never got much practice with Cinderella. Belle was the wild one.”

“Awww.” I nodded. “She did marry a beast. I’m pretty impressed that you even know her name.”

“Sadly, I know all of the Disney princesses. My mother used to love them. She never had any girls so she made Max and me watch every movie.” He walked off and headed to the door. “I forgot how much she used to love them.”

“Used to?”

He paused and turned my way. “Yeah. What?”

“Why doesn’t she like them anymore?”

That expression on his face cracked a little bit around the edges, allowing me to see the real man for the first time since meeting him. “Well my real mother passed away when I was eight.”

My mouth dropped open. “But. . .well. . .it seemed like your mom was alive. You and Max kept saying
parents
during dinner, so I assumed that they both were alive.”

“My dad married two weeks after my real mother died. When he did, he asked us to call his new wife, mom. In my household, when Dad requests something, you do it without any questions. It just so happened that the woman he married was as sweet to us as our real mother, so it ended up not being too hard after the years went by. Plus we already knew her pretty well.”

“How?” The nosy person in me just had to know. “How did you already know the new wife?”

“She was my mother’s best friend. I guess he’d been sleeping with her the whole time.”

Sounds like your dad is a great guy.

“Were you pissed with him when he married her?” I asked.

“No.” He put his back to me and opened the door. “Not at all. I was too busy asking God to give me back my mom.”

And whether intentional or not, that was the first time Frederick found a way to needle a path into my heart, too bad it wasn’t the last.

An hour later, I lay on my front as Frederick’s fingers massaged my back. He wore nothing but a pink bow tie around his neck and tiny shorts that said, Boy Toy in pink letters on his crotch. I had to focus on something else just to not double over with laughter. But it was easy to center my attention on other things.

We were on the yacht’s sun deck as it glided through the ocean. Nothing but water surrounded us. The air possessed this salty fragrance that soothed me. I couldn’t see Miami any longer. It should have worried me, but I remained calm, probably due to Frederick’s fingers, stroking me in circular motions.

Waves of clear blue water rushed past. Even dolphins appeared, sparkling with water and yipping their mouths toward us as if trying to communicate. Color layered the sky. The whole scene played out like an oil painting set in a museum. A perfect picture to all that happened to witness it.

Don’t forget that this is a game.

Every few minutes, I said that to myself. I needed to remain grounded.

“What are you thinking about?” Frederick poured warm oil on my bare back and rubbed it in at the center. I bit my lip as lusty sensations flooded my head. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Every time I touch you on your lower back, you curl your toes.”

“You’re making that up.”

He slid his hands to that area. I groaned and curled my toes. “Okay. Maybe you’re not lying.”

“What else makes you react that way?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to Max if I told you all of my secrets. It would be cheating and that’s not how you want to win.”

“No. It’s not.” He tugged at the towel that covered my behind. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go lower?”

I closed my eyes and stifled a moan. “I’m sure.”

“I would like to massage lower.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You wouldn’t last if I did.”

That comment made me snap my eyes open. “Then do it.”

That towel was off of me in less than half of a second. In one instance it lay on me. In the other, it rose in the air and flew out to sea.

“Umm. . .I will need that towel eventually.” I squeezed my thighs together as a breeze skittered along my skin.

“I thought your ass was beautiful in that dress, I had no idea how amazing it would be without anything covering it.” He stood there for several seconds, not touching me or moving.

“Stop playing around and massage me.”

He rubbed his lips a little as if wondering if he really should. I wished I could read his mind. Surely he debated in his head about something.

“You’re not scared of a woman’s bottom are you?” I joked.

“No. I’m just scared of the woman who owns the bottom.”

“I won’t bite.”

“Do you promise?” His attention remained on my bare ass.

“Yes. I promise.”

He stepped to it with an intense look on his face. “Will you sign something stating that you will not unleash any violence, if I get too captivated with that sexy bottom and go too far?”

“No way.”

“Then let’s hope my brain remains in the game and my hormones don’t take over.” He seized my ass and it took my breath away. It was something about the way his fingers made contact with my skin, that electrocuted all of my senses. My sex clenched into wet knots, instant arousal pushed over the deep end. I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the expression on my face. It would have given away too much and told him that more finger strokes to that area, would place him at the head of the game.

Bad idea. Bad fucking idea.

But I couldn’t tell him to stop, the area between my thighs begged me not to, and let’s face it, I’d spent three years ignoring my sex. Out in the middle of the ocean far away from land or prying eyes, I allowed myself a few delicious moments of bliss. Instead of keeping my guard up, I surrendered to heaven.

“Mmmhmm.” The sound fled from his lips in a deep guttural flow. He slipped his hands over the curve of my ass, dipping his fingertips lower than he should. And the evil hormonal part of me pled for him to continue.

“Can I touch you there?” Arousal laced his words.

I swallowed. “Where is there?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He squeezed and I arched my back up in response. He smacked my behind. “My wicked Dawn. I’m wondering right now, who’s taunting who?”

I have no idea.

“Maybe we should end this massage,” I whispered.

“Or maybe we should change this touching to something else. Now, please answer my question. Can I touch you there?”

I flushed with heat. “Why?”

“Because from my point of view, your bare cunt is wet and ready. I didn’t figure you for a Brazilian wax sort of woman. You can take a lot of pain there, can you?”

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