Scandalous Games (Arranged Games Book 1)

I stay downstairs and distract myself with work until I can no longer avoid going to the bedroom. It’s futile for me to hope that he’s gone to sleep without me, but I can’t be certain unless I check for myself. He didn’t once come back to demand I come to bed, which felt like a real possibility. After all, bossing and tormenting me is his favorite pastime.

I have half a mind to sneak to my old apartment. However, I don’t want to give him the smug satisfaction if I were to be caught.

Maybe that’s what he’s counting on. He would love that, wouldn’t he?

I glance at the stairs and with a sigh, switch off my laptop before gathering the courage to confront our bedroom situation. God forbid he accuses me of being scared of him yet again. As I switch off the lights, unfiltered questions run through my mind.

Did he ever have a girlfriend? Did they share an apartment?

Did I ever cross his mind?

I stop my train of thought when they enter into dangerous waters. Of course he wouldn’t have reminisced about me. I was just his stepbrother’s naïve girlfriend. The girl he had to put up with in his house and glared at most of the time. Sometimes, even save her from trouble when her boyfriend was too busy getting shit-faced.

It was at that moment I realized Dash wasn’t as cold-hearted and cruel as Niall claimed. Despite his hard outer shell and perpetual glower, he was protective and affectionate.

His callousness was a layer of defense from the world.

In some ways, he’s still the same. Mysterious and secretive as he was before, one can only tell if they look closely.

Since we ran into each other, he has stolen and invaded my life while keeping his guarded. Despite me wanting to keep our arrangement as impersonal as possible, he ruthlessly tore through the line and took more than I bargained.

He knows my deepest fear and my complicated relationship with my parents, while I know nothing about his. Even Niall wouldn’t tell me anything except warning me to keep my distance.

No matter how much I deny and resist, there’s a burning curiosity inside me to know the man Dash Stern is. I want to dig beneath his heartless exterior, uncover his secrets and unmask the real him that he hides from everyone.

He knows my weaknesses, my vulnerabilities, and I want to learn his.

As his wife—even a pretend and temporary one—it’s my right. At least, that’s the lie I tell myself.

The hallway is dark and quiet until I see light spilling from the door to our bedroom as I get closer.

So, he’s awake…

With my chin held high, I push inside, only to find the huge bed empty with the lamps on each bedside providing some lighting in the room. I glance around for signs of him, when the cold breeze hits my bare legs.

That’s when I see Dash sitting on the balcony, working on his own laptop. It’s a little after midnight so I’m shocked to catch him working so late. I never stay up this late unless I have a meeting the next day or I’m behind on my projects, which is my excuse for tonight.

Then again, I don’t run a billion-dollar company.

He doesn’t even notice my presence until I’m standing right behind him. The light spilling from the laptop screen flits across his concentrated face. His shoulders are hunched and his lips are pursed as he types away. I’m contemplating whether or not to disturb him when he speaks up, startling me.

“Did you need anything, kitten?”

“It’s really late, Dash,” I softly say. “Do you often work till this hour?”

“Yes,” he answers without losing the momentum of his rapid typing, and it’s enough to reveal he’s a workaholic. And come to think of it, I’ve noticed him constantly on his phone either texting or conversing. Just like my dad. He couldn’t bear to be away from work even for a second and I’m well aware what it did to him and the unfeeling man he became as a result.

At this rate, Dash is halfway on the same track.

And I don’t like it.

“It’s unhealthy,” I scold, before inching closer. “Come to bed, Dash.”

His fingers pause instantly and the energy around us shifts and cackles as he raises his green eyes to mine. Underneath the moonlight, they glow like two jewels and appear darker. For the first time, he appears flabbergasted before a soft expression transforms his rugged features. I become breathless and shy under his unwavering stare, like he’s trying to look into my soul. And pulling apart the pieces until he reaches my core.

I desperately wish I knew what he was thinking right now.

“Am I dreaming or did you just invite me to bed, wifey?” he teases. His husky voice, feeling like a warm caress. The nickname, holding more intimacy underneath the starry sky.

“To sleep. Don’t get any dirty ideas,” I warn in a light tone.

“Impossible.” He smirks. “All I have are dirty ideas when it comes to you. Some downright filthy.”

I blame the shiver that dances down my spine on the cool night breeze. “Just come to bed, please.”

I’m ready to snatch his damn laptop when he sighs and nods.

“I have one important email to reply to. How about you get ready for bed and I’ll meet you inside?”

“Fine.”

Returning inside, I pull out my favorite pair of sleep shorts and a loose cami from the closet and go to the bathroom to change. Since I’m super tired, I’m tempted to skip my nightly skincare routine but the fear of an unwanted pimple popping up has me rejecting the idea.

It took me years to finally find the correct routine that suits my skin and it’s been a blessing. Quickly brushing my teeth and combing my hair, I skip back to the room.

My eyes immediately connect with Dash’s just as he’s straightening up from the bedside table and I feel naked when his gaze roams down the length of me. My nipples tighten underneath my thin top and I regret skipping my bra because I almost forgot I won’t be sleeping alone from now on.

Holy fuck.

I swallow when I notice he’s only wearing boxers and see the outline of his huge dick as it slowly hardens before my hungry eyes. Never has a man’s thighs made my pussy quiver but his muscular and powerful ones have me lusting. The man has no ounce of fat in his body, I swear.

He’s perfect everywhere with his striking and sinful physique to complement him.

And he’s all mine.

Temporarily.

“Unless you want to be bent over this bed and fucked raw in the next two seconds, I suggest you stop staring at my dick,” he growls in a guttural tone, raising goosebumps on my skin. “Your stupid rules be damned.”

His eyes are livid and glowing with intense need when mine snap to his. I’m rooted to the spot while observing his tensed and bunched muscles as he roughly breathes. It’s as if he’s fighting really hard not to act on his promise. Possessed and ensnared by him, my mind flashes to the night at the club.

The way he took control of me without my permission, the rough sting of his teeth as he marked my skin… and bit my pussy because I rubbed against another man. The naked possessiveness and madness in his eyes scared and exhilarated me at the same time.

God! Would it be so wrong if I fucked him? Just once so I can end this torture.

“Fuck, kitten! You’re killing me.” He groans, stepping closer as if pulled by an invisible thread. It snaps me from giving in to my body’s urges and making a mistake. Sleeping together will only complicate our connected future.

“You’re not sleeping in that, are you?” I mumble, ignoring the need in his voice.

I watch his jaw grind as he calms himself down before the primal look vanishes and the mischievous yet stern Dash is staring at me. The bulge in his boxers doesn’t seem to be in a state to calm down as easily. Neither does the throb in my clit.

“No.” His answer makes me sigh in relief. It lasts for a second before he smirks. “I sleep naked.”

I bite my lip, imagining his hard length pressed against my back all night before shaking off the naughty train of thought.

Focus, Bianca.

“Tonight, you won’t,” I throw back with resolve before threatening with a shrug. “Not unless you don’t want me to share a bed with you.”

He reacts by recoiling and snarling, “Don’t tempt me into tying you up.”

“I dare you.” I lift my chin and don’t budge from my demand.

“Fine.”

I smile when he relents and whips the covers off before settling down on the bed. His eight-pack abs tightens and taunts me as he lies down on his back. Lifting slightly on his elbows, he watches me crawl into the bed and his tongue peeks out to lick between his teeth when I unintentionally give him a view of my cleavage as I bend.

I shoot him a glare when he chuckles low, and turn onto my side, giving him my back as I draw the blanket over me. The mattress dips slightly when he shifts and a minute later, the room is blanketed in darkness.

“Goodnight, wifey.”

“Night, dear fake husband.”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come as I wriggle, trying to find a comfortable position, but my body can’t relax. The mattress feels weird and scratchy despite being so soft and pillowy and made of the finest wool. It always takes me a while to get used to a new bed or a new place, which is frustrating.

Plus, I’m hyper aware of Dash on my side, so close that I can feel his body heat, hear every even breath he takes while his scent drowns and suffocates all my senses. Every little nerve ending under my skin tingles and sparks to life until sleep is all but erased.

I jump when he sighs loudly and whispers in the dark, “Weren’t you tired, kitten?”

“I miss my bedroom,” I whisper back. “And I forgot my cuddle pillow.”

“There are literally four right here,” he mocks.

“My old one is my favorite, okay?”

My pulse skyrockets when his calloused fingers grip my small wrist. One small tug and I’m plastered against his side. I’m too stunned to mutter a protest when he nestles me in the crook of his arm and shoulder while draping my left leg over his until I’m lying halfway on his warm and shockingly comfortable chest.

“Here, cuddle me.”

For the longest of seconds, I’m still as a statue and concentrating on my rapid pulse, like my heart is in my throat. I’m grateful for the darkness so he can’t see my blush forming on my cheeks. Every hard ridge and texture—it molds and fits against my curves.

I’m about to call him out for touching me when the tip of his finger traces up and down my spine teasingly while the other palm caresses the back of my thigh with his thumb. It is so soothing and pleasant that my eyes begin to feel heavy.

“So you’re a cuddler, Dash?” I mumble, halfway close to passing out.

“No, I hate it. Now, go to sleep.”

He denies it, yet holds me so tight that our heartbeats sync and beat the same rhythm. The desire to pull away doesn’t even penetrate my mind. Instead, I curve my arm around him until I fall into a dreamless slumber.