Playing For Love (33 page)

Oh fuck, yes,
I thought as my pussy throbbed in time with his dominating tongue.

“I missed the fuck outta you today,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “I thought finding you and fucking you would take the edge off.”  

“I missed you too,” I admitted, mesmerized by his mouth and the things it did to me.

“So we don't have to do this every day?” he asked, hopeful.

“Definitely not.” I couldn't stop thinking about all the things that mouth could do.

“Thank fuck.”

I huffed a small laugh and he smirked, his eyes happy and gleaming.

He released me and sat back, putting the car in drive. He pulled up to the gate, waiting for it to open. At least he'd accomplished two things today, fucking me and getting the gate fixed.

That was how Dawn had gotten in today. The exit gate was left open because the entrance gate was damaged.

“Did Dawn damage the gate?”

When the gate opened, he pulled out onto the main street. I watched the muscles in his arms shifting as he handled my car as expertly as he handled me.

“Yeah,” he sighed wearily. He looked over at me and shook his head. “I'm sorry about this morning, sweetheart. I fucking hate that you had to deal with her.”

“I've read some of the texts from Zach, babe,” I admitted, letting him know I knew he was dealing with plenty of crazy shit from my baggage. He shouldn't feel bad about Dawn.

“Yeah, but that's typical guy shit. Dawn's mentally unstable.” After a moment, he added, “I was expecting this shit from Zach. I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming before we got married.” 

“How would you know that?”

“It's a guy thing,” he evaded.

I had a feeling the answer would expose another insecurity he didn't want to bring up. His hand moved to my thigh, rubbing. It was both sexual and comforting. Arousing me and relaxing me. A heady combination.

Then ringing filled the car, and he ordered our food.

I listened as he ordered perfectly for me. I shouldn't have been surprised with how closely he paid attention to me since the oatmeal incident.

“No more food deliveries to the house for a while. No one on the property we don't personally know.”

“Okay.”

I understood, especially after today. Letting someone come up to the door was giving them full access. And who knew how crazy this girl really was or how long they would actually hold her.

He parked in front of the restaurant.

“Miss me while I'm gone,” he murmured sweetly before getting out.

Watching the way his muscles moved and shifted under his clothes as he walked across the parking lot was getting me worked up. He was a fucking dream. My dream. And I was married to him. Sometimes it seemed unreal, like he was an elaborate fantasy. When he disappeared from my view, entering the restaurant, I grabbed my phone. Finding five new texts from Zach, I ignored them—one crazy a day was enough. Moments later, David returned and I laid back, closing my eyes, letting his smell consume me as my car rumbled to life. His hand moved between my thighs, rubbing lightly. Teasing. I gripped his thick forearm and melted into the seat as his touch turned firm, working me to orgasm while easily maneuvering us through traffic and home.  

David

We didn't have sex last night, and it was eating me up.

She'd been
primed and ready in the car, but once we got home and ate, she'd crashed. She’d been too tired from the bullshit we were dealing with.

I texted Elaine while I cooked, finding out if there was any new information on the threats Austin had received.

Yesterday, when I left Austin at the mall, I was informed Dawn wasn't the only one leaving threats for Austin on our social media accounts. 

It was reported, but Fergus would be following her around for the foreseeable future, even when I was with her. I let Elaine know she could have a photographer come up to the gym if she wanted candid pics—only condition being they could only take pics of us, no one else. She agreed readily. I knew she would—she seemed more interested in helping Austin's career than mine, which was fine.

Austin seeing Dawn was putting distance between us, at least that was my perception. The image of those strippers pressed against her and Noah wrapped around her were burned in my brain—so, I understood. I tried to bridge the gap I felt by finding her at the mall yesterday, only to come home and have it happen all over again—for our lack of sex. 

I took our breakfast into the bedroom, setting it on her nightstand, watching her a moment.

“Sweet girl,” I whispered, pressing kisses to her temple and down her jaw. “Ready to eat?”

“Mmm.” Her eyes opened, taking me in.

When she sat up, I stacked pillows behind her and arranged the tray. 

As we ate and once she was more awake she asked, “What time are the movers going to be at my house?”  

“Two thirty.”

“I want to drive separately to the gym. I want to go over to the house early to pack some stuff.”

“I'll go with you,” I told her between bites.

“You need to catch up on everything at the gym.”

I studied her, looking for signs that she was feeling the distance I was or that she was trying to push me away. Something.

Eventually, I admitted, “I don't like it.”

“But you understand.” She poked her food with her fork. “Sometimes we have to do things apart. You need to catch up on your work. I need to pack my stuff.” Her tone was all business. And I hated it, because I couldn't read it.

I watched her for a long moment, but didn't say anything else. She didn't defend her choice and I didn't want to push too far. We fell into silence, the only noise coming from the soft droning of the TV.

I tried to figure out where she was emotionally as we got ready for the gym. She gave nothing away. I packed a change of clothes for us, then loaded up Chance into the truck, watching as Austin pulled out of the garage in her own car, which I still wasn't thrilled about.

Forty-five minutes later, I parked in front of the gym and found her talking to Shawn.

“Austin, we need to work out,” I called loudly as I stepped out of the truck, interrupting them. I got Chance out of the backseat and they carried on as if I hadn't said a word.  

“Talk to you later, Shawn,” she said as I walked over to them.

I gave him a hard look before grabbing my wife's hand, pulling her inside.

“How long have you been here?”

“Like... fifteen minutes?”

“Stop driving so fast,” I demanded.

“Then why did you buy me that car?” she countered with attitude.

“Not to fucking kill yourself,” I growled out. She didn’t respond. So I continued, “Why're you talking to him?”

“I don't want your employees thinking I'm a gold digging bitch.”

“Who gives a fuck what they think?” I demanded.

Her jaw clenched but her expression was unreadable. 

I set Chance up in the office and put our stuff away before I pushed her through a hard arm workout, watching her body and her curves as she moved. I loved her body exactly the way it was. I loved everything about her the way it was. Right now, my plan was to make her too sore to drive to her house. To make her stay with me, give me a chance to close the distance I was feeling. So, I made her do an extra rep.

“David, I can't move them.”

“Come relax in the office,” I suggested. “Or sauna for a few.”

She made an unintelligible noise and headed toward my office. I couldn't stop my smile from spreading across my face like the Cheshire cat as I followed her. I also couldn't stop staring at her ass.

“David, how am I going to drive?” she complained as she laid on the couch next to Chance.

“Stretch,” I suggested.

I watched as she did as I said, while I sat at my desk feigning work.  All I could think about was eating her—eating her pussy and ass until she was raw. 

“I'm going to take a shower,” she told me as she stood up.

“One sec, sweetheart,” I muttered, getting up and coming around the desk to stand in front of her, chest to chest. I grabbed her ass and picked her up, giving her a sweet kiss. Then I threw her down on the couch.

She let out a surprised yelp.

I kneeled down and stripped her yoga pants off, yanking her shoes and socks off with them.

“David,” she protested.

God, I fucking love this girl more every day.

“Two days in a row. No underwear. I love it,” I muttered, shoving her legs apart.

“David, no.” She tried to cover herself with her hands.

“Don't
fucking
start,” I warned quietly as I gripped her wrists, pulling them away. “I'm eating this pussy.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Austin

When I pulled into my driveway, my skin was still tender from David’s savage feeding frenzy. Obviously brought on by some insecurity judging by the way he fucked my ass with his tongue, plunged two fingers into me, working my G-spot ruthlessly until I was a helpless begging mess. I wasn't sure what point he was trying to make, but I certainly wasn't going to stop him.

I unlocked the gate for the movers and grabbed the mail from my overflowing mailbox—with everything going on, neither of us had remembered to get it. I dumped the mail in my trunk, knowing David would go through it later for me. His obsessive invasiveness had its perks. A lot of perks actually.

It felt odd as I walked into my house after not being here for more than an hour at a time over the past three weeks. I quickly texted David, saving me from having to answer questions later.

Austin: Here.

12:42 PM

David: Leaving soon.

12:43 PM

Putting my phone in my pocket, I headed for the guest room and started packing up my desk. Then I unhooked my computer and carried everything out, putting it in my trunk. I was feeling that arm workout.

David: Almost there.

1:20 PM

If that was true, he'd left less than twenty minutes after me and there was no way he'd finished his work.

Going to my room to pack more clothes, I called him.

“Hey, you should've stayed and finished,” I said as I opened my drawers, trying to get an idea of what all I had left to pack. It was a lot more than I thought.

“Isn't it normal to wait until I say hello before you start in on me?” he deadpanned.

“Shut up.” I pulled all my totes and the rest of my luggage out from under my bed. “Grab something to snack on.”   

“Like?”

“I don't know.” I started dumping my drawers into the bags. “Something I like.”

I stood, contemplating letting David deal with the rest of my clothes. It was too much and my arms were killing me.

“I'm twenty minutes away. Tell me what you want... And don't carry anything to the car. I'll do it when I get there.”

“Too late,” I said, carrying the brimming totes into the hall.

“Damn it, Austin. I told you before you left.”

“Just get me something to snack on,” I told him again.

“Just leave it where you pack it. I'll carry everything out.”

“Knock, knock.” My heart thudded hard when I heard a male voice come from the living room.

“Who's that?” David's voice over the line was suspicious.

“I don't know,” I breathed as my heart raced. “The movers I guess.” 

“Over an hour early? No one called me.”

I peeked out of my room.

“Just a second,” I called down the hall.

“Austin?” the male voice called out.

My body froze in fear. Then my insides were shaking, vibrating with anxiety.

I knew that voice.

And I never wanted to hear it again. I didn't have any reason to be afraid of him. Except I was terrified of facing my past.
Any
part of my past.   

When he stepped into view, my stomach knotted. David's voice called to me, but my pulse pounding in my ears made him sound far away.   

“Zach.” I could barely hear my own voice, but David must have.

“Austin—”

My phone slipped from my grip as Zach moved toward me with a slow, casual gait. His sandy brown hair was mussed; his blue eyes were shining. He looked concerned but pleased. I had never seen him look concerned about anything.

Except himself.

“Austin.” He gave me his sexy, narrowed-eyed look—a look I'd taught him. “I've been thinking about you a lot lately.”   

“Because I'm with David.”

“Well, yeah. You're supposed to be waiting for me, remember? Have you been getting my messages?”

“I've been ignoring them.” My voice was breathless as I shook with anxiety, still not in control of my body's responses.

“David's probably deleting them.” He seemed so sure of himself, making me angry, but my anxiety was still winning.

“What're you doing here?” I breathed.

“I came by yesterday. Your neighbor let me know you'd be here today. I asked her to call me when you were.”

I knew I should never have spoken to her.

“Please leave.” My voice quavered.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at my totes, ignoring me. “Where's your car?”

“In the driveway.” I was certain he saw it, since he came through the front door.

“No.
Your
car. Not that shit
he
bought you.”

I didn't know if it was the dig at David or my car, but that shook me out of it—they were both fucking amazing.

“What the fuck do you want?”

He looked surprised by my sudden outburst.

“To talk to you.” He paused, considering his next words. “You never let me explain, and I'm sorry you didn't understand what was going on.”

“You're sorry I didn't understand you were cheating on me?”

“I wasn't—not really.”

“Was it some kind of emotional development exercise I wasn't enlightened enough to understand?” My anger was winning and it felt fucking good.

“Austin, we had a plan. The opportunity presented itself and I took it. I didn't say anything because I didn't know if it was going to work. And I wasn’t going to risk you getting mad and blowing it over some silly impulse.”

“What plan? We didn't have a plan. I didn't think you'd be successful, and I was right—”

“That's why I did it!” he yelled suddenly.

Well, at least he wasn't completely delusional. He knew that was the only way he was going to make it—on someone else's coattails.

“I'm glad you got want you wanted.” And I was. Kind of.

A little. 

Okay, not really.

“You have it now, too.” He moved closer. “I understand why you didn't wait for me, but I'm in a position now for us to be together.” He grabbed my hands and I jerked back, but he didn't let go.

“Stop it.
Let go
,” I gritted out as the restraint triggered me.

“Just listen,” he pleaded, moving closer, backing me into the wall. Trapping me.

“Get off me!” I screeched as adrenalin pumped through me. I pushed as his body pressed against mine. His hands tightened, pinning mine to my sides.

“Just listen,” he whispered harshly.

His body heat was suffocating. His breath smelled like peppermint and that smell triggered so many memories—some good, but mostly bad.

My stomach turned as those memories came back as if they happened yesterday—not thirteen months ago.     

“Why're you here? You don't want me.” I held my head up, trying to ignore my hammering heart and the irrational panic raging through me. 

“That's not true. I loved you. I did all of this for you.”

“What do you want?” My chest heaved as I struggled to move, frustration and fear crawling through me.

“I know you're mad at me.” His tone was patronizing. “I know I took too long, but now we have this opportunity.”

He leaned in then, closing the few inches between our faces.

My head pushed against the wall as I struggled to get away from him. The blood pounding through my ears was deafening as his body pressed harder against mine, leaning into me. My fight or flight instinct took over and I fought, twisting and kicking, frantically trying to force my body away from the wall, away from him. I felt the bones in my wrist shifting as I tried to twist out of his grip, and I struggled harder, anxiety taking over.       

“Kiss me, Austin. Just kiss me. Your body will remember.”

I felt his lips on the side of my mouth as I continued struggling. So close. Sharing breath. I closed my eyes and focused. I slid down the wall, trying to get leverage, but he followed. Then we were wrestling in my hallway. He finally got me flat on the floor and straddled me. My hands pinned above my head in one of his. His other hand gripped my breast crudely, pinching my nipple painfully as he leaned in again.

“Come on. Just kiss me. I know how to get to you.” His lips moved over my neck as his hand slid down to my sex, rubbing through my shorts. “Just relax and enjoy it. I know what you like.”   

I bucked uselessly. The noise that tore from my throat was unrecognizable to my own ears—a sob mixed with a scream, and I felt myself shutting down. Disconnecting.

The front door banged opened and David's boots echoed on the hardwood floor. I could feel the anger in his heavy steps and relief coursed through me, allowing me to breathe.  

Zach sat back, but kept me pinned, his hand still at the juncture of my thighs.

My head turned to see David step into view. He nailed Zach with a murderous glare. Then his eyes focused on me and fury hardened his face. His eyes went cold. His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared. I had never seen him like this; he was full of pure rage.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” David demanded, his voice menacing.

“David,” I breathed.

Zach pulled back and let go of my now-bruised wrists and stood, stepping over me, taking a defensive stance. David huffed out a humorless laugh—it sounded like gravel in his throat.

He closed the distance between us with three long strides. Without warning, David grabbed Zach by the back of the neck, throwing him in the direction of the living room.     

Zach stumbled down the hall before righting himself.

“You think you can take my girl?” David’s voice was dark and dangerous as he stalked after Zach into the living room. “You think you can
touch
my wife?”

“She's not yours!” Zach shouted.

“She. Is. Mine.” David's voice was deadly calm as he backed Zach out of the house.

“She loves me.” I heard Zach's muffled voice.

“Even if she did, wouldn't matter.” David's voice was ice, followed by a noise I couldn't place.

By the time I got up on my shaky legs and to the doorway, David had him on the ground, pinned with one hand on his chest. The other drew back over and over, punching him. He looked wild. Savage. He looked like he liked it, like it was a relief. 

Zach's arms swung haphazardly, only catching David in the shoulder, then the chin. David didn't flinch. He looked possessed as he kept hitting him.

David had four inches and forty pounds of muscle on Zach. It wasn't even close to a fair fight. I always thought, if I was put in this situation again, I'd enjoy watching my attacker get their ass beat, but watching as David hit Zach mercilessly, I felt sick. Zach wasn't even capable of defending himself against David. I felt a new panic take over when I realized David
could
kill him. 

“David, stop,” I begged, bordering on hysterical.

He hit him again.

“David!” I screamed.

His head turned to me then, his expression severe. 

“David. Stop.”

“What?” Then he shifted, his expression turning cold. “Why the fuck are you defending him?”

“I'm not!” I lowered my voice. “I don't want you going to jail.”

He looked at me a moment, processing my words, then stood. His chest heaved as he stepped over Zach and walked over to me. I quickly inventoried David. I couldn't see any damage to his face, which made me feel even worse about what I’d just witnessed.

His hand was covered in blood. Zach's blood.

My gaze moved past David to Zach. His face was unrecognizable, the blood distorting his features. I couldn't even tell where the blood was coming from. My eyes darted away. It was too disturbing. 

“Look at
me.
” David's voice was demanding and begging at once, an unmistakable desperation underlying it.  

Instantly, my eyes met his.

After a moment, my brain started working again. He needed to get inside, in case anyone came over to see what was going on. I grabbed his left hand, the one not covered in blood, and led him into the house like I would a stray dog—watching him closely, never turning my back on him.   

I sat him on the couch and hurried to the kitchen for a towel, returning and pressing it to his hand for a few seconds before lifting it away to check for cuts. I found a few deep ones. It took a second to realize they were from Zach's teeth.

“I need to call an ambulance,” I muttered, reaching for the house phone.

“No.” David's voice was low and hushed.

“David, we have to. The movers are coming. If they find him and we did nothing to help him...” I begged with my eyes for him to understand. “Just let me go check on him.”