Playing For Love (6 page)

The glass front doors opened, revealing a short, refined-looking, older gentleman wearing black slacks and a vest with a crisp, white shirt. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” he said with a slight bow.

“Oh. We're—” I started to correct him.

“Thank you.” David's commanding voice cut me off. His arm squeezed me tight as he led me into the large foyer.

It was unreal, a contemporary palace. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before with its high ceilings—higher than the ones in David's house—endless white walls, and slate floors. The clean, modern lines gave it a sophisticated style, but the unobstructed view of the ocean gave it an island feel. The collapsible glass doors tucked away in the wall, bringing the outdoors in.

I pulled away from David and made my way across the spacious house and outside. The covered patio was like an extension of the house. The center of the white roof was glass with large, white, wood beams.

Breathing in the clean ocean air and a floral scent I couldn't place, I walked out along the path toward the ocean. Eventually, I reached the edge of the property, nothing but the ocean and white-bloom trees as far I could see. The view was awe-inspiring; it was more than I had ever dreamed of. David was going to spoil me in every way possible. And as much I wanted to do nothing but enjoy this magnificent place, especially the infinity pool at the edge of the property overlooking the water, I had to take care of a little—not so little—issue.    

“Will the car be here very long?” I asked, absorbing the view in front of me. I knew he followed me; I could feel him. I could always feel when he was near. “I want to take a shower, then run a quick errand.”

“Yeah, there'll be a car and driver around the clock. And Byron will be here twenty-four/seven. What do you need? I'll go with you. In fact,” he growled, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his thumbs brushing rhythmically over my waist, “I'll take a shower with you too.”

I must have missed the older man introducing himself.

He must be Byron.

“No, I need to do this alone.”

“Why?” His voice was guarded.

“It's for you, David. A
ring
.” I looked over my shoulder, meeting his gaze.

He pulled away and turned me to face him.

“Already got yours, but I need to come with you. For sizing.” His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close again.

“Oh.”

Why hadn't I thought of that?

My fingers traced the dip between his pectorals, glancing up at him from under my brows. “Yeah, okay.” After a long moment, I whispered, “This place is perfect. I love it.”

“I figured.” At my expression he explained, “The way you left me behind...”

I felt like an idiot, leaving him behind without a word and not having the sense to know he needed to be present for the sizing. “Sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he cut me off. “I’m just happy you like it.”

“It’s amazing, thank you, babe.”

He studied my face for a moment then asked, “What's up, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” I answered a little too quickly.

He watched me closely for a moment. Completely misreading my expression, the tension in his arms went from holding to restraining. His voice was dark when he spoke. “You know I love you, that I would die before I let you go, right?”

It took me half a second to fully process the intensity of his words. Something in my chest loosened and warmed. “Yeah. I know that, babe.”

His fierce gaze stayed locked on mine for moment. I felt trapped, and I loved it. He leaned in slowly, his lips claiming mine in a possessive kiss. His tongue pushed in, sliding along mine. My pussy throbbed in response, my body becoming submissive under his influence. When he pulled away... I would’ve let him do anything to me, would have given him everything he wanted. 

This was the problem. I was dickmatized. He got me fuck-drunk daily. Just his kiss turned me into a bitch in heat.  

David grabbed my ass, hauling me up his body. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and he started back toward the house. His hard stomach bumping into my clit with each step. Soon
I
was shifting my hips, seeking more friction. Seamlessly, those big hands took over, pulling me flush to him. I rubbed my clit against his abs, burying my head in his neck, focusing on the stimulation, on relieving that incessant ache. Suddenly he smacked my ass, hard, making me yelp and pull back. That's when I realized we were back at the house.

“Behave for a few minutes.” His gravelly voice demanded.

He let me down and I quickly adjusted my dress. When I turned, I noticed Bryon standing only a few feet away.

Oh, God.

I was struck with the horror that I had just humped David like a wild animal in front Byron, a man who reminded me too much of a grandfather.
David was unaffected as he followed Byron, pulling my half lust-dazed, half humiliated self along behind him and up the expansive, floating staircase and down the walkway to the master suite.

The space was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. There was an open wall across from the end of the king-sized bed, which dominated the room. Everything in the room was white except the slate floor.

Entering the bathroom, I was met with a large, concrete wall. Everything else in the ample space was white and very modern, including the giant, bowl-style bathtub.

Noticing all our things had been put away, I thanked Byron. Before leaving us, he showed us where all the controls in the room were for the drop-down TV, curtains, lights, and bathtub.

“Come on, sweet girl. We got a schedule to keep,” David said as he walked by me, latching onto my hand and pulling me into the bathroom.

I quickly shed my clothes as he turned on the water. We rushed through a shower, quickly drying off. I tossed on a coral midi-dress and gold flip-flops, then hurriedly finished getting ready. When I emerged from the bathroom, David was tucking my phone back into his pocket. He had on a pair of worn jeans, a gray V-neck tee, and flip-flops. Sometimes I was still stunned by his beauty, his body, and just how seriously fucking sexy he was.

Damn
.

David didn't seem to notice, he just hustled me downstairs and into the sizable modern white kitchen. Everything was white, except the island, which was a deep walnut with a white waterfall counter. It was stunning.

“I took the liberty of setting you up in the breakfast room.” Byron startled me with his sudden appearance.  

He led us to an open eating area with a large, round table. David didn't hesitate. Sitting down, he added our preferred choices to our respective coffees as Byron pulled out my chair. Without pause, David started on his breakfast.

“They are gluten-free, Mrs. Taylor.” I heard Byron say when I sat but didn't touch my food.

I looked at David with my best ‘motherfucker, you didn't’ face.

“What? I didn't—” He tried to swallow his food to explain. 

“Seriously?” I was horrified and angry that he would toss a poor decision to flirt with his friend in my face. One I only made because he chose to let women flirt aggressively with him in front of me.

“I just wanted to be safe. Mr. Taylor didn't request it,” Byron quietly cut in, saving David from a good ripping.

I looked at David with a side-eyed glare and he laughed, which prompted me to face him full on.

“You fuckin' serious?” he asked, looking confused. His expression shifted to stoic, his voice was commanding. “Stop it, Austin. I wouldn't bring that shit up. You know that.”

“Really? Because—”

“Stop it and eat. While you were messing around with your face stuff, I made arrangements with a jewelry store. We gotta be there in an hour. Then we have to get back here for flower stuff, and we still have to get your dress.”

“I don't want to eat now,” I said defiantly.

“Eat, Austin.” He looked at me for a moment, then huffed out a laugh. “Fine. You wanna fight?”

“What?” I realized what he was saying—I was starting a fight for no reason. And I was getting on to him for the exact same thing this morning. “No.” I tried to hide the sulkiness in my voice and failed.

I sat staring across the table at nothing as I sipped my coffee, wondering where this paranoia was coming from.

My phone. Nude pics of a couple of ex's, of me, graphic text messages.

I was really regretting not being one of those people that regularly deleted texts. Every time I bought a new phone, I just transferred everything over and went on. Truthfully, I didn't even know what all was in there.

“Sweet girl, eat.” His deep voice was patient, so soothing to
something
inside me that I couldn't begin to describe. “It's fine. You can bitch at me all day if you want, just eat something. We gotta leave in fifteen minutes.” 

I wasn't hungry, but before my fifteen minutes were up, I managed to eat part of the breakfast burrito, drink my coffee and convince myself that if David hadn't found those pics and texts yet, he wouldn't.       

“Got everything you need?” David's voice rumbled as he stood and slid a black ball cap on over his still-damp hair, pulling it down low, shading his eyes from view.

Two things caught my attention. First, I had never seen him wear a hat and I hadn't seen him carrying one, so where did he get it? And second, I didn't think it was possible, but that hat made him sexier, accentuating his jawline, making his lips more prominent, eyes more intense. That hat was a terrible disguise, but seemed to be working for me as foreplay. 

“Uh...” I started as I stood from the table, staring at his strong jaw. “I need my—” 

Byron holding out my purse stopped me short.
  

“Thank you,” I muttered, taking it from him, a little dumbfounded at his attention to detail.

“Of course, Mrs. Taylor. I don't want you to be late.” Byron's voice was kind and refined.

“Call me Austin, please.”

“As you wish,” Byron said, glancing at David.

I should have known. David probably asked for me to be called Mrs. Taylor.

David's jaw flexed before he turned briskly, heading for the door. He looked back at me over his shoulder and rumbled, “Come on. We gotta go.”

Following behind him, I was still surprised by how good a simple hat made him look. Apparently it was noticeable.

“What?” he asked when I got close.

“Nothing. Just never seen you in a hat.” I tried to play it off.

“Ohhh, yeah, because you don't like baseball,” he teased, leaning closer. “Do you approve?”

I looked him over again, my eyes finally landing on his shadowed eyes, darting to his mouth, then that jaw.

A jaw perfect for sitting on.
Lips perfect for...

My breathing turned shallow and my core clenched hard.

“Oh, yeah.” His eyes slowly roamed down to my chest and back up to my eyes. He growled, “You approve.”

His intense gaze combined with that voice had my clit throbbing as I followed him out to the car.

Dear God, that man knew how to eye-fuck.

CHAPTER FIVE

David helped me out of the limo, when we arrived at Cartier, keeping his possessive hand on the top curve of my ass as we walked up to the door. If someone else had been so proprietary with me, I would have been offended. It would have felt inappropriate. Crass. But with David, it was sweet and comforting.

We were greeted by an armed security guard and a petite man in a three-piece suit. As we entered, I was struck by the emptiness of the store. That's when it sank in—he'd called ahead to have a private showing.

“Mr. Taylor.” The man in the suit nodded to David, then looked to me. “Miss James, I'm André.”

“Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” David said in greeting as his possessive hand slid lower, palming my ass. Pressing his lips to my forehead, he muttered, “Find whatever ring you want me to wear. I'll go look around.”

This was important to him— if he was letting me look on my own. I understood that. It meant everything to me that he had chosen my ring on his own.

Slowly pulling away from David, I followed André to the back of the store. I was noticing that whenever David was willing to let me go, I was reluctant to.

They were prepared—having what looked like all the men's rings out on top of the case.

Something immediately caught my eye.

It wasn't a traditional wedding ring.

It was two rings together, the bigger one was hammered titanium framing a smooth, polished, flat, platinum band with three black diamonds set inside the metal like bolts.

It was perfect.

It was David.

He was the strong, hammered band covering me, protecting me.

And he's the bolts holding us together.

I knew there would be times he had to hold me together, especially with what we would soon be facing once we returned home.

“This one,” I said as I inspected it more closely.

“Excellent choice, very unique. This is the only one we have.”

He voice was kind, but I couldn't help thinking
,

That's the same crap you tell everyone.

Truth was, I didn't want his opinion. I certainly didn't need it, and it had no relevance on my decision.

“Thank you,” I responded politely. I knew part of my bitchiness was due to my PMS.

Maybe I need Midol…

“Miss James, do you know what ring size you'll need?” 

“No. That's why he came.” I motioned behind me without looking.

“Would you like to pay for this now?”

“Yes.” I dug through my purse, searching for my wallet. I knew I had enough to cover it, but I was definitely going to have to call the bank to transfer money from my savings to cover my bills.

“Sweetheart, here.” I heard David's voice from somewhere behind me.

I turned, finding him on the other side of the store, making his way toward me. “No. You are not paying for your own wedding ring.” My voice was harsher than I had intended.

He stopped midstride, looking at me. It reminded me of the first time I saw him, except his trademark expression and intensity were shifting. Amusement showed as he failed miserably at suppressing his growing grin. He ducked his head, hiding behind his hat, turning as a huge smile broke across his face, revealing his white teeth. 

“Here.” I turned back to André, forcing a pleasant smile as I handed him my card. David cleared his throat, attempting to cover what was definitely laughter. My eyes closed and my jaw clenched in annoyance.

I wasn't sure what was so amusing about what I said, or maybe it was my tone. Whatever. Either way, it wasn't that funny.

“David,” I reprimanded.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said through suppressed laughter.

He wasn't sorry at all.

“Charles, get Mr. Taylor's ring size, please,” André said to another man, halting my next words to David.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself this reaction was hormones—probably. I opened my eyes to see André studying my ring. My view shifted, seeing it how others would, and I felt a sense of pride I hadn't expected. David loved me—irrationally, obsessively loved me, and my ring was the embodiment of that—over-the-top, breathtaking, insane. Just like him, like us. And it gave me a kind of peace I had never known, even though David was riding my last nerve at the moment.

“That is an exquisite diamond, Miss James.”

“Thank you,” I responded absently, my attention stolen by the large diamond sitting on my finger. My card and the small bag being placed in front of me finally pulled my attention back to the moment. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Miss James. And no resizing is necessary.”

“Really?” I couldn't hide my surprise as I put my card away.

“It could be a quarter size bigger, but Mr. Taylor insists it's unnecessary.”

Of course he does.
“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Miss James”

I smiled, grabbing the bag and turning to find David standing no more than three feet behind me. “I'm ready.”

He didn't say a word as he wrapped an arm around me, quickly maneuvering me out of the store and into the waiting limo.

“Everything okay?” he asked as soon as he settled next to me. The material of his worn jeans against my bare leg did nothing to stop his body heat from seeping into my skin.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, if you're mad at me, be mad at me. Don't try to hide it,” he coaxed, reaching over to play with my engagement ring. He waited a moment then started again. “You just got me any old thing, huh? That's fine—”

“What?”

“We spent less than thirty minutes in there. You spent even
less
time looking.”

His insinuation instantly pissed me off.

“You are an asshole! You know that?
A fucking asshole!
”

He started laughing—a deep throaty sound.

“What about me is so fucking funny today?” I fumed. 

“Shhh.” He reached for me, pulling me into his lap as I uselessly struggled to get free of him. “Sweet girl, calm down. I'm not laughing at
you
...Not
really
.”

He easily manhandled me into position until I was straddling his thighs. Not that I bothered to continue struggling, it was pointless. And if I was being honest, I liked it. I liked that he was strong enough to handle me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I'd never known a man who could handle the latter two. 

“I'm just happy you're not hiding from me. I don't care if you're being a bitch or sweet as hell... I just wanna see you.” His grip on my hips tightened as he pulled them fractionally closer. “No walls. None of your controlled responses. You snapping at me in there like that made me so fucking happy. I want you, all of you. Nasty. Mean. Sweet.
Everything
you have inside you. I want it all.” 

“You like me snapping at you? You
are
crazy,” I sighed, the anger and frustration leaving me.

My gaze fell to my fingers as I absently traced the contours of his chest through his tee. I was stunned at how he still managed to prove how much he wanted me—bitchiness and all. And I was more amazed that I felt safer with him with each day that passed. At this rate, I would never be able to give him up if things didn't work out. I would always be searching for this again—with him—if we lost it.

“So.” He ducked his head down to look into my eyes. “Can I see my ring?”

“No,” I pouted, still insulted that he thought I would get him any old thing, that I wouldn't put thought into it.

“Hey, I'll get a tattoo ring if you want. I don't care.”

“I did put thought into it,” I said, barely above a whisper.

“Did you?” His voice was soft and hopeful. “Can I please see it?”

My gaze darted to the bag just before I reached for it. I hesitantly handed it to him, my eyes never meeting his. It dawned on me that he didn't wear jewelry and what I chose might not be something he would like.

I watched his hands as he took the small box out of the bag and opened it. When he didn't say anything, disappointment crept in and then hurt.

He doesn't like it.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“Sweetheart... is this how you see me?” His voice was soft and something else I couldn't place.

“Yeah... Well, it's how I see us, I guess.” I was suddenly very nervous. “It's fine if you don't like—”

“Austin, no.” He cut me off. After a moment, he asked, “So this is me and you bolted together with black diamonds?”

“Mmm. I kinda think of you as the bolts too. Holding us together. Holding me together sometimes.”  My voice was quiet, betraying the shyness I felt, almost embarrassed by my newly developed mushiness.

“Hey, look at me.” He gripped my chin gently, tilting my head up until our faces were inches apart, the brim of his hat all that separated us. “I will always hold us together if that's what it takes. I'll hold you together as long as you want or need me to. Always.”

I looked into his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and whispered, “Is it bad that I'm depending on it?”

“Fuck, no. I want you to depend on it. I want you to depend on me,” he said vehemently, pulling me into a tight hug, his thick biceps pinning me to him, his large hands tucking my head into his neck. He pressed his lips to my temple and breathed, “I want you to depend on me
completely
. And I know that's crazy...and selfish...but that's what I want.” 

*****

“The florists are a little early,” David muttered, looking at his watch.

First the hat. Now a watch?

I took in the black face with diamond markers and the crown emblem of Rolex.

“You don't like it?” he asked at my gaze.

“I like it,” I answered flippantly.

He laughed softly.

“You want it? Is that what this little attitude's about?”

I shrugged, unwilling to verbally confirm and completely unaware I was giving attitude.

He pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I love you on your period. Horny as fuck. Bitchy. Bratty. Vulnerable. I
fucking
love this.” 

I grumbled into his chest.

He let me go but kept an arm around my back, squeezing me tight to his side as we walked up to the house. “You want my help with the flower stuff or do you want to do it by yourself?”

“You're actually going to let me do something without you being involved?” I teased him. 

“This one time.” He winked. “Consider it your bachelorette party, one final decision without me.”

I couldn't tell if he was serious, but I would bet he was more serious than not.

“Whatever. You're in for a rude awaking, Mr. Taylor.”

“You might be in for a rude awaking,
Mrs
. Taylor.”

“I want to keep my name,” I mentioned offhandedly.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt the change in him. His muscles tensed, his arm tightening around my side. He stopped us abruptly. When I looked up, he wore a severe expression, prompting me to quickly add, “For work.”

“Austin.” The warning in his tone had my pulse quickening and my core clenched hard. He growled, “We are—” 

Byron opened the front door then, ending the impending argument I may have unintentionally started.

“Mr. Taylor, the florists are waiting for you on the patio.”

“Thank you, Byron.” David's voice had a hard edge as he walked me into the house, keeping his possessive hand firmly on my lower back. 

David

I was instantly pissed. Was it sexist that I wanted her to take my name?

Maybe.

Did I give a shit at the moment?

Fuck no.

What was the point of being married if she was still hiding that shit by not taking my name? What I really wanted to do was drag her ass back to the bedroom and fuck her into agreeing. It seemed the most effective way to get what I wanted out of her, but these flower people had to be early, fucking up my shit.

Guiding her through the house, I barely restrained my need to demand she take my name. For everything. Once we reached the patio, I was surprised to see a man sitting there along with a woman. After really looking him over, I relaxed. He was far too thin and clean-cut to get Austin's attention.  

“Mr. Taylor, it's nice to meet you,” the guy said, then looked to Austin. “Miss James.”

“Thank you for coming to us, appreciate it,” I said, my voice giving away my irritation. It never crossed my mind that they would send a guy. I couldn't bring myself to participate in the standard pleasantries.