Play With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 2)

GARRETT

How the fuck did she get those on?

Judging by the way I’m trying to decide on a plan of attack for getting her out of them, Jennie’s high-waisted jeans appear to be painted over her round ass and wide hips. I’m not allowed to undress her though.

But these fucking jeans. The tight, washed-out denim flares below her knees, and I swear those legs go straight to heaven. I’m already mentally cataloging all the different ways I can wrap them around me (hint: position number one is over my shoulders). She’s also wearing this stupid crop top that shows off her stupid belly button, and all I’m thinking about is shifting that shitty excuse for a shirt up and swirling my tongue around the tiny plum-purple gem that dangles there.

I need to get her the fuck out of my system.

“You don’t drink?”

“Huh?” I drag my gaze away from Jennie, unimpressed that it’s Jaxon Riley who’s made me do so.

He gestures at the can of sparkling cherry-flavored water in my hand. “You’re drinking water.”

“I’m driving tonight.”

“Why?”

So I don’t make any captain’s little sister–sized mistakes that have the potential to prematurely end my career via shattered bones?

“Uh, ’cause?” is the intellectual response I give him.

Jaxon’s gaze follows mine as it bounces back to the girl in question, and he smirks. Leaning next to me, he murmurs, “The thing about her being Carter’s little sister is that he’s only my captain, whereas he’s one of your best friends. Where she’s off-limits for you, she’s free game for me.”

I snort. “Good luck walking outta here with that type of logic.”

“Tell ya what. I’ll make you a bet.”

“No.” I’m not entertaining this jackass. “What’s the bet?” I’m entertaining him a little.

“I get her to come home with me tonight.”

My grip on my can tightens. “I think the fuck not.”

“Because you want her?”

“Because you’ll fuck her once and ghost her, and we’ll be short a defenseman when Carter knocks you the fuck out.” I drain my can and crush it between my hands. “Jennie deserves better.”

Jaxon grins, pulling two beers from the ice in the kitchen sink. He tosses his words over his shoulder as he wanders toward Jennie. “I’ll treat her real nice, Andersen. Promise.”

JENNIE

I’m highly unimpressed with the state of Olivia’s bladder. She’s left me here alone, and I’m about to have to be friendly with a fuckboy.

The new trade saunters toward me, a smug grin on his smug face. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Jaxon.”

I lift my sparkling water to my mouth. “I know who you are.”

Speaking loosely, of course, about having to be friendly.

Jaxon Riley, NHL bad boy, fuckboy extraordinaire, and Vancouver’s newest defenseman, chuckles, taking his hand back. “All right. That’s cool. I know who you are too.” He offers me one of the beers laced between his fingers. “Brought you a beer.”

“I don’t drink.”

I catch a snort of laughter, and my gaze flits over Jaxon’s shoulder, finding Garrett’s amused eyes on us. I’m not proud to say I suddenly become a lot more interested in the man in front of me.

Jaxon’s nice to look at, so it’s not an onerous task. All messy brown hair, hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a full sleeve of tattoos decorating his left arm, I’m entirely into it. Top-shelf Flickapedia material, without a doubt. A welcome reprieve from the mental image I’ve been flicking it to every single night since Garrett destroyed me after catching his name leaving my lips.

I lean into the new defenseman, squeezing his forearm, and drop my voice to a purr. “But thank you so much for thinking of me. That’s incredibly sweet of you.”

His smirk is too proud. “That’s why they call me Sugar.”

I inwardly roll my eyes, trailing my fingertip over the flowers decorating the cuff of Jaxon’s wrist as Garrett crushes his can in his fist and reaches for a new one. “Really? I heard that was for an entirely different reason.”

Jaxon takes the bait, stepping into me. “Dessert might be my favorite meal of the day.”

“Mmm…” I bat my lashes while Garrett aggressively chugs his water. “Mine too.”

I spy the platter of double fudge cupcakes sitting on the counter, right next to Garrett’s elbow. I walk toward him, his face heating the closer I get.

“Excuse me.” I brush against him, reaching for a cupcake. “Dessert,” I murmur with a wink before heading back to Jaxon. “I’ve been craving something sweet all night long.” I swipe my finger through the fudge frosting, then slowly suck it into my mouth, all the while noticing how Garrett demolishes another can of sparkling water.

Jaxon’s hooded gaze tracks my finger, my lips, the way my tongue darts out to make sure I don’t miss a single bit of decadence. He brushes a lock of hair off my face before his fingertips skim my waist. “Come home with me.”

Behind him, Garrett’s fist ends the life of what I’m pretty sure is his third can of cherry sparkling water in the last five minutes.

GARRETT

Well, that won’t work. Absolutely not. If I can’t have her, nobody else on this team gets her.

“Eh, Carter,” I call across the kitchen.

Jennie’s icy stare widens. She takes a frantic step away from Jaxon, confirming my suspicion that she’s doing this to get under my skin.

Carter ambles over. “What’s up?”

I incline my head in Jennie’s direction. “Nice to see Jennie and Jaxon getting along.”

Carter’s head whips around, and his fist destroys his beer can. “The fuck he is,” he grinds out, tossing his can in the sink and stalking toward the happy couple.

Well, Jaxon’s happy; Jennie’s not.

Jaxon’s about to be broken, not happy.

I’m happy.

JENNIE

I hope Garrett’s had a good life, because I’m about to end it.

I shove Jaxon’s hand away and pin my brother with a grin, extra dimply. “Hey, you! Enjoying the party?”

Carter’s in full grump mode, angling himself toward Jaxon, strategically blocking me from his line of vision and any further physical contact. “Riley. I see you’ve met my sister. Baby sister. Only sister. My sister.”

Oh Christ. Here we go. Garrett’s not even bothering to hide his triumphant grin behind his fourth water. I hope all the bathrooms are occupied when he soon needs one.

Fuck you, I mouth, flipping him the bird behind Carter’s back.

You’d like that, is I’m pretty sure what he mouths back.

“I was just introducing myself,” Jaxon says. “She’s been very welcoming. She’s beautiful.”

“I know she is,” Carter snaps back. “She’s also twenty-four.”

Jaxon leans around Carter, grinning. “I’m twenty-six.”

Carter sidesteps, the human barrier I didn’t ask for. “Two years too old for her.”

I frown. “You’re almost three years older than Olivia.”

Carter’s head swivels in slow motion. I mash my lips together at his expression, mostly to keep from laughing in his face. He may look threatening, but I’m fully aware he’s a giant teddy bear who spends his time singing Disney songs, carrying his dog, and plastering his ear against his wife’s stomach in case today’s the day he can hear the baby.

“Hey, Carter, I was thinking, with your permission—”

“Riley.” Carter drops his head, shoulders shaking with his chuckle. He lays a heavy hand on Jaxon’s shoulder. “Look, I like you. You’re a good hockey player, nice enough guy.” He steps into him, and Jaxon’s easy smile melts off his face. “But if you finish that sentence—”

“Carter—” His palm covers my mouth, halting my words.

“Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. But Carter, she’s a grown woman.”

“Yes,” I mumble behind his palm. “I am.

“But Carter, she can make her own decisions.”

“I can.”

“I’ll treat her right, blah blah blah.” He shakes his head. “The answer is no. You can touch my sister over my dead body.”

I smile weakly at Jaxon. This is futile, and I don’t care enough to argue it with Carter. “Nice talking to you.”

When Jaxon darts off, Carter turns back to me with a sigh and a dopey grin.

“Sorry Riley was bugging you. Thank fuck Garrett tipped me off.”

My eyes zero in on the man in question, the one who’s watching, wiggling two fingers in a wave.

“Yes,” I murmur. “Thank fuck.”

GARRETT

I changed my mind. I want her, and I’m gonna have her.

Carter walks away, leaving his sister glaring at me, and when she flips me the double bird, I know that only God can help me now.

Fuck me, I’m going for it anyway.

JENNIE

What is he doing? Why is he looking at me like that? Is he walking this way? He’s walking this way.

Get back, demon boy.

But also, come a bit closer.

No, stop right there.

Fuckballs. I can’t make up my mind.

I drag my clammy palms down my thighs, glancing away. He’s probably not coming this way.

He’s definitely coming this way.

My jaw drops, he grins, and I do what I do best.

I run.

“I’m gonna make a mistake,” I mutter, slipping through the crowd. I climb the stairs two at a time and beeline down the hall. “If he talks to me, I’m gonna make a mistake. A huge mistake. I won’t be able to stop myself. I will not be able to stop myself. Huge mistake, Jennie. Huge. No. Nope.”

I heave open the linen closet and throw myself through it.

Safe.

The door swings open a moment later, and the moonlight filtering through the window in the hallway illuminates a pair of piercing eyes as the intruder sweeps into the tiny space and shuts us in.

“Great thinking on the closet, Jennie.” Garrett’s gravelly voice sends a shiver down my spine. He smacks the wall, lighting the space with a warm glow via the tiny chandelier hanging above us, and the man has never looked so sinister. “Think we lost them.”

My heart leaps to my throat as he steps into me, towering. This man right here is all devil as he slowl

GARRETT

“Lemme guess…” Jennie’s hands sweep up my biceps, roaming over my shoulders. She tangles her fingers in my hair, twining it slowly. The way she turns her confidence on and all the way up to ten without batting an eye cranks my gears in a way I can’t explain. “You heard the word huge and figured I must’ve been talking about you.”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Ego,” she whispers, dragging my neck down until my lips hover over hers. “The word you’re looking for is ego.” Her mouth bypasses mine, lips skimming my jaw, and my cock starts gearing up for a quick fuck in the closet.

Except I don’t want there to be anything quick about the way I fuck Jennie.

“Remarkable how well your ankle healed over the past week,” I murmur as she leans back. “Couldn’t even tell you sprained it tripping over your bag, hurting it during practice, and tripping over your dance partner, by the way you sprinted up those stairs.”

Jennie checks her nails. “Yes, well, they had me stay home and rest it for the week so I didn’t aggravate it. It feels fine now.” Her gaze flips to mine. “I’m sorry your head isn’t any better.”

“I scored a goal and got an assist today.”

“Oh, I’m not basing it on your ability to play hockey. Simply on the way you seem to keep making…” Her tongue pokes the corner of her mouth. “Ill-advised decisions.”

I drop my gaze, watching my finger trace the waist of her jeans, the way her exposed skin jumps at my touch. “I don’t recall making any ill-advised decisions. In fact, I’ve been told the dessert was…” Dipping my fingers below the waist of her jeans, I tug her forward. She catches herself on my chest with a strangled gasp. “Orgasmic.”

A tiny vibration, right there in her throat, as she tries to hide her snicker. “The popcorn was delicious.” Her fingers brush my collarbone as she fixes the button on my shirt. “Are you having fun playing this little game of yours?”

“Funny you should ask. That’s exactly what I wanna do.” I capture her hands in mine, pinning them on either side of her head. “I want to play.”

A beat of silence echoes between us as the words settle. Jennie laughs lowly.

“You think I’m gonna let you into my Disneyland just for fun? Oh, Garrett, you’re adorable. What makes you think I’d agree to something like that?”

I press my lips to the thundering pulse point on her neck. “Besides the fact that your body’s giving away how much the idea intrigues you? Our chemistry is off the charts, don’t you think? I go all tongue-tied, you scream at me ’til you’re hot and bothered, and all the while I’m thinking about throwing your legs over my shoulders and gorging on my favorite dessert.” I kiss the hollow spot below her ear, reveling in her shiver. “That’s you, sunshine. You’re my favorite dessert.”

With my hand on her throat, I haul her into me until her lips wait just below mine, fingernails biting into my shoulders. Breathless, she clings to me as I whisper my next words.

“C’mon, Jennie. Play with me.”

JENNIE

This motherfucker thinks I’m gonna give it up.

“That’s sweet, but you’re not really my type, big guy.” I’m hoping the lie isn’t as blatant as it feels, but the chances aren’t great. My gaze heats as it crawls down his body, slow to come back up, and my tongue absently glides across my lower lip as I remember the way his mouth tastes. When dark amusement flashes in Garrett’s eyes, I know. I’m as wrapped up as he is, as he wants me to be, and he knows it.

His thumb nabs my lower lip, gently tugging. “This is fun to you, isn’t it? The forced indifference, the teasing. It’s part of what makes things so electric between us.”

Said electricity buzzes through me like a live wire dipped in water, but I keep playing. “It must be incredibly difficult for you to wrap your head around. Rich, successful, sexy hockey player, and yet I couldn’t possibly be less interested.”

“Rich, successful, and sexy,” he murmurs. “Sure sounds like I’m renting a space in your brain, sunshine.”

“You’re not letting a few simple adjectives go to your extremely large head now, are you, Mr. Andersen?”

His grin turns wicked, and I gasp when he fists the hair at my nape, pulling my head taut. His gaze drops, hooded and heated, and he watches with a heady, starved look as my bottom lip slides between my teeth.

“Anything else?”

“You’re too timid and gentle,” I whisper, needling him on as I toy with his collar. “You don’t know how to take what you want.”

My heartbeat settles at the cleft of my thighs when he flips me around without warning, pushing me against the wall, his chest flush with my back. I give my ass a little wiggle to see how far I can push him, and bite back my moan at the weight of his desire pressing deeper against me.

His lips linger at my ear. “This sudden confidence of mine? That’s courtesy of you, Jennie. Knowing you want me as much as I want you makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.”

“I don’t want you,” I breathe out, even as I let my head fall onto his shoulder, our fingers tangling as he shifts the neck of my shirt over.

His teeth skim across my shoulder. “No?”

“N-no.”

Garrett’s fingers dance down my belly, and every muscle clenches as he pops the button on my jeans. My sharp inhale spirals into an unashamed moan, and I arch off his chest, pushing myself into his hand, begging for attention where I want it most.

And then he releases me. “’Kay.”

I whip around in time to see him adjusting the lump in his jeans. “’Kay? ’Kay what? What are you doing?” I watch in horror as he reaches for the door. “Where are you going? You can’t…You can’t do this. Garrett!”

He sweeps a soft, slow kiss across my cheek. “Enjoy your night, sunshine.”

I hate him.

I hate him and his stupid, hot face and his stupid, hot body so motherfucking much.

GARRETT

Fuck, she wants me so bad. It’s written all over her face, the flush of her high cheekbones, the murderous way she glares at me every time she finds me staring, ’cause she’s mad at me for not finishing what I started.

Cara slaps Jennie’s ass as she moves past her, remarking how incredible her jeans make her ass look, and I’m ready to rip them right the fuck off her.

Should I tell her? I should tell her.

JENNIE

“You look angry.”

“I am angry,” I grumble to Cara. I pin my arms over my chest, then promptly drop them at the look of approval on Garrett’s face when I push my own tits up. Fuck you, I mouth to him.

“Angry sex is the best sex,” Cara tells me sincerely.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You could find out.” Cara winks, a finger on her lips. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”

Sometimes avoidance is the best policy, so I reach for the closest thing, which happens to be the fridge door. I pull it open, staring at nothing.

Cara’s chin lands on my shoulder. “Forced proximity does wonders for two horny, single hotties.”

“I’m not—ugh.”

Another wink before the birthday girl sashays away, and I swivel back to the fridge, content with letting the cool air nip at my warm cheeks.

I know the second he’s behind me. My body reacts before my mind does, which is irritating. I’d like to tell him to get fucking lost, but my mouth isn’t forming the words, and my body’s trembling with desire. Desire to touch, feel, let myself get lost in this man until nothing else matters.

Garrett leans over me on the pretense of reaching into the fridge, fingers fluttering over the bottles of beer, though he never does grab one. His hips press against my ass as he whispers, “Do you have a preference in how I take these off you later? I can try to be gentle and peel them off real slow, but I’m leaning toward option two.”

I swallow. “What’s option two?”

“I destroy them. One way or another, they’ll be on my bedroom floor tonight, and you’ll be beneath me, saying my name.” His mouth dips low as he skims my bare waist with his frosty fingertips. “Over and over again.”

GARRETT

“Can you take us through the McDonald’s drive-thru?”

I glance at Carter in my backseat. “Put your seat belt on.”

He somehow manages to squeeze his sasquatch frame between the front seats, right between me and his sister. “I’ll put it on if you take us to McDick’s.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. There was so much food at the party.”

“I want an Oreo McFlurry.” He taps Olivia’s shoulder five hundred times. She’s halfway to passed out beside him. “Want one, pumpkin? Extra Oreo? Gare-Bear’s takin’ us.”

She cracks a sleepy lid, smiling at me in the mirror. Sighing, I switch lanes. You don’t say no to a pregnant woman who wants ice cream.

“Pushover,” Jennie mumbles under her breath.

Carter swings his arms over both seats. “I’m so happy you’re friends now. It makes me so happy.” His forehead flops to my shoulder. “I’m so happy.”

I’m happy when he disappears inside his house, Olivia shouting both an apology and a thank you over her shoulder while she munches her ice cream.

Jennie looks the opposite of happy, glowering beside me, but then again, she almost always looks this way.

“Don’t look so glum, sunshine. We’ll have a pleasant, quiet ride home, just the two of us.”

“I’m no one’s sunshine,” she barks back. She’s been especially snippy since I left her in the closet.

I swallow my snort. “Clearly.”

“So stop calling me it.”

“But it suits you so well, what with the way you sprinkle it everywhere you go.”

I swear those arms of hers have a permanent spot folded over her chest. “I hate you.”

I reach across the console, skimming the edge of her thigh. Her hands fall to her lap and her lips part as she tracks the movement. “Sure you do, sunshine.”

A growl rumbles and she slaps my hand away, angling herself toward the window. The air between us sizzles like an electric current every time I catch her peeking over her shoulder at me.

At the condo, we ride the elevator in silence, and she fumbles with her key when I hang over her shoulder in front of her door.

“You’re not…you can’t…” She points at me, then her door, and wags her head. I smile, ’cause I think we might’ve switched roles.

I lean forward and she plasters herself against the door, each breath heavier than the last. Our eyes lock as I step into her. She tips her chin up, wets her lips, and I turn the key in the lock.

Jennie tumbles backward before I catch her via a fistful of her coat. The look she hits me with has me thinking my jockstrap might be useful for more than blocking pucks.

“Night, sunshine.”

JENNIE

“Stupid…motherfucking…cocky…son of a goddamn bitch.” I yank open the drawer in my bedside table, rooting through the rainbow of rubber and silicone. “He thinks he can play me like that?”

A bitter chuckle escapes as I select one of my best friends: the womanizer, or, as I’ve affectionately labeled her, Ol’ Faithful.

“I don’t need him. I didn’t need him before, and I don’t need him now. It wasn’t even that good.”

I tug my jeans aggressively down my legs and climb on the bed, feet flat and legs wide as I fix Ol’ Faithful over my clit. I press the power button six times, cranking her right up to max, and my lids flutter closed as I sink into the pillows.

“Oh yeah,” I murmur, that little bud tightening. Everything feels ultrasensitive, tingly like Pop Rocks, and I settle in, ready to take myself for a ride. My toes curl as I climb higher, pushing that little hunk of magic closer, and my lips part on a moan as—

“Damnit. What the hell? C’mon, girl. You earned your name for a reason; don’t fail me now.” I hammer the button, desperate for more. More power, more friction, more, more, more.

But she doesn’t give me more, and what she does give me, quite frankly, isn’t enough. It’s always been enough.

Frustrated and desperate, I reach down with my free hand and swipe my fingers through my slit. I’m wet, so that’s good. Drenched, really. So I skip one finger and go right to two.

“Oh yes,” I moan. “Dual stimulation. This is what I need. So good. So perfect.” My hips lift as I arch into my palm. “Abs, abs, abs,” I chant. “He’s got great abs. And fingers. Oooh, and that tongue. He does wonderful things with that tongue. Yes, yes, yes.”

The feeling wanes as quickly as it builds, and I pump harder, faster, begging my body to work with me, to give me a release I’ve never so desperately chased before.

But for every step forward, I take two backward. Pretty soon I’m just miserably flicking it while I glare at the wall, an annoyingly attractive and newly arrogant man’s face smiling back at me, reminding me for the umpteenth time that the little object between my thighs can only do so much. It’s not those fingers that stroked me so meticulously, that tongue that ate me so savagely.

And above all else, it lacks the heat, the determination, the ferocity with which Garrett promised to wreck me.

All waves of pleasure die down to a gentle ripple, and I chuck Ol’ Faithful—new name required—across the room before I sprawl out on the mattress, defeated, miserable, and horny as fuck.

GARRETT

I fix my track pants low on my hips, choosing to forgo a T-shirt. It won’t stay on anyway.

Making my way to the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water and wait, eyes on the stove clock.

I smile to myself when the banging starts. Loud and aggressive, like her, and when I leave her hanging a minute longer, it turns to slapping.

Eight minutes. Huh. I gave her fifteen. She’s always surprising me.

I unlock the door and pull it open.

I appreciate that she put her shirt back on to come up here, even if it is inside out. Her jeans made it back on, too, unbuttoned and hanging off her hips, and the long cardigan she’s added does a mediocre job at best of hiding this mess of an outfit. Those heeled booties she wore earlier didn’t make it back on her feet, but her puppy slippers complete the look.

Jennie’s scowl is particularly ferocious, cheeks rosy as she breathes heavily. She whips off her cardigan and steps toward me.

“I wanna play.”