Game's Over: A BWWM Romance (Game of Chance Book 3) (4 page)

Wes took it all in, his heart beating so fast he thought he would die. Zenobia clutched at his shoulders, shaking with the intensity of the aftershocks, her body surrendering completely. She only had a few moments to come back down before they started all over again. She groaned and shuddered, still floating in a haze of white hot pleasure when Wes slipped his hot, hard dick inside of her.

“Fuck, so beautiful,” Wes whispered reverently as he rocked his hips, slow, ever so slowly, his mouth pressed to Zenobia’s breast, teeth pulling lightly at the soft skin there.

“Love you so much.” Wes pulled Zenobia closer to him as he drove his cock deeper inside. “Won’t ever let you go.”

Zenobia’s bright, feverish eyes snapped open and she looked so long and hard in Wes’s, Wes thought he could reach the core of his very soul. He brought his mouth down on Zenobia’s lips for the softest of kisses as he slowly drove himself inside of her, keeping pace in time with her breathing.

He knew there were going to be rug burns on his knees and on Zenobia’s ass come morning, but fuck if he cared. From that position, every slow, deep thrust hit her spot, and soon she was writhing and moaning desperately, her pleas loud and unintelligible.

Sweat was pouring down her hairline and into her eyes, Zenobia’s body shining like a jewel even with no lights on in their apartment. Wes pressed his lips on Zenobia’s nipple, sneaked one arm under her hips and slowly heaved her up, until she was straddling Wes’s lap. Wes wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up before driving her back down on his cock, rocking her into his own thrusts.

“I love you.”

Wes’s words got lost against Zenobia’s skin, again and again. Zenobia mewled softly and shuddered, her own hand locking above Wes’s on her hips, fingers tangled, holding on tight.

“I love you too.”

Zenobia panted and gasped in the crook of Wes’s neck, their breaths harsh and ragged. Wes’s own release was pulsing, hot and intense at the pit of his stomach, spreading from the base of his spine to the rest of his body. He couldn’t hold on much longer, and it didn’t look like Zenobia was fairing much better.

Zenobia tightened around him, fingernails sinking into the skin and at the back of Wes’s neck, her hips growing erratic as she impaled herself on Wes’s dick with every push and pull. Wes pulled their joined hands off Zenobia’s hip and guided them towards her painful, blood-heavy clit. The moment their fingers touched it, Zenobia cried out and came, shaking violently and contracting against his cock.

“Fuck.”

Wes grunted and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to hold on, let Zenobia ride out her own orgasm, but not even a full minute later he came, too, buried deep in her pussy, Zenobia’s hot, trembling body blanketing him.

“Fuck,” Zenobia breathed a few minutes later.

“Hmm?” Wes opened one eye, grinning, all lazy and catlike. “Hey.”

“I think I should send Grant a bottle of wine or something.” Zenobia chuckled, shuffling against Wes, whose softening cock was still buried deep inside her.

Wes groaned. “Well, then my plan backfired spectacularly.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Zenobia ordered, and it was with a smile that Wes brushed his lips against Zenobia’s. “You have all of tomorrow to find a better plan.” Wes could surely not ignore such a challenge.

Chapter 4

Of the contestants who had made it through the first round, Grant was the first to arrive. The club was already full, and twice as many people were waiting outside, bargaining with bouncers to be let in. Grant thought they’d better spare their money. Wes’s club was the best for many reasons, security not excluded. There was no chance in hell anyone without a ticket would have been able to worm their way in.

He walked in through the side door, showing the color-coded wristband that gave him backstage access, and found himself pretty much alone in the spacious, couch-filled room that worked as backstage.

He tried not to be too disappointed. After her number the previous night, Vivica had all but disappeared. Even when they announced the names of those going through to the second night, she was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know what he hated more—the idea that he couldn’t get a chance to get into Vivica’s pants before he fled, or that someone else actually managed to get into her pants and had gone off with her.

To be completely honest, he didn’t actually think the latter could even be close to the realm of possibility, but a nagging voice in his brain told him that even if she didn’t seem interested in him, that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in anyone else. Which put Grant in the place where he just had to have Vivica fall for him. It was a matter of pride and one of principle.

He sprawled down on one of the plush white leather couches, looking around sort of bored. He thought running in the contest would be much more fun. He’d never done it himself, but he’d made a point during all the years previous to that one to do at least ten of the contestants. And now that they were trickling in, all of them, each one looking more gorgeous than the other, Grant could only look up and mentally compare them to Vivica and find them all wanting.

It was nearly absurd, and maddening at the same time. Here he was, in a room that looked as though Playgirl had coughed it up, and all he could think of was of an enigma with an attitude problem. There was clearly something wired a little differently in his brain. Zenobia wasn’t yet there, nor was Wes, but even if they had been, Grant didn’t think he’d ever bother going to the bar. What was the point? It wasn’t like he was in love with Zenobia. Grant didn’t do love.

He looked around idly, checking his watch every few minutes to see whether there was any chance that Vivica might skip the contest after all, but he needn’t have worried. A minute to midnight, she finally walked through the curtains of the backstage with the same elegant stiffness that she had had the previous night before her performance, and a spark ignited in Grant’s belly. Vivica’s eyes fixed on him immediately, only a split second, but Grant grinned nonetheless. So that was how it was gonna be, huh? Good to know. He could work with that.

He stood from the couch, but Vivica was already gone. Where, Grant had no idea, but he would think about that later. He was still the first in line and he had to open the show. Grant didn’t mind going first, but he would’ve liked for Vivica to be there to see him. At least she made it there before his performance. What that meant, or if it meant anything at all, Grant didn’t really want to dwell on it. He didn’t like thinking too much, it made everything complicated.

“Hey,” he asked of Tasha, a moment before stepping on stage. “Can I change my song?”

Tasha eyed him up and down until Grant squirmed under the scrutiny. It was as though she knew he was up to something.

“That’s your shot,” she said finally. “Talk to the DJ and make it quick, will you? You’re not the only one in the running.”

Grant nodded quickly, ducking his head with a bashful mannerism that usually made women melt and whipped around to whisper in the DJ’s ear before walking on stage. The lights were off, and Grant walked to the center of the stage, his back to the crowd and pressed up against the cold metal of the pole.

One way, or another, I’m gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha…

He hoped the message was subtle enough. Grant didn’t check to see whether Vivica was looking, but there were monitors everywhere. Even in the goddamn bathroom. She was going to see him. Whether Vivica picked up the challenge or not, well, one could hope. Grant moved sensually, acting out the lyrics of the song, his hips swaying and gyrating. He shuffled back, ass against the pole, his legs spread obscenely wide. Grant slowly unfastened his shirt, which was already loose at the throat, until it hung in a teasing V, baring his hard golden muscles to the world.

There was a cute girl two rows from the front basically salivating, and Grant locked eyes with her for a moment or two, enjoying the cat and mouse game. But when he turned his back to the crowd, one arm around the pole and his legs to the side, curving around it as he spun around to the chorus, he found himself staring into deep pools of chocolate brown eyes at the other end of the stage.

Grant nearly fumbled and fell, but he was quick to recover. He couldn’t allow Vivica to see what kind of effect she was having on him. He needed to stay in control, despite the fact that euphoria was running wild through him, coupling with adrenaline and making him feel stupidly lightheaded. Grant curled one knee around the pole and threw himself backward, nipples brown and erect, standing in stark contrast against his tanned skin and the black of his open shirt.

You asked for it,
Grant thought, head thrown back, staring upside down at Vivica for an instant before he drew himself up again. He undid the last button of the shirt and let it slide down his body until it curled around his wrists, then ripped it off, throwing it at the crowd.

There was a scramble to catch it, but Grant wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t stripping for them, not anymore. He was stripping for Vivica, and he made sure she knew it. He was down to his G-string again when the song ended, to wild applause and cheers from the enthusiastic crowd, and Grant took a short bow before retreating backstage.

“Well, talk about setting the bar,” Tasha said into her microphone as she walked on stage, to another loud round of applause and cheers. “I think Grant made it through to next round, hasn’t he?”

Grant grinned to himself as he stepped into his robe, instinctively looking around. He wanted to see Vivica’s reaction before she got a chance of to hide behind her usual cool mask. Grant knew that she had been watching. Now it was a matter of her deciding whether she wanted to take the bait or not.

He found Vivica lounging on the couches backstage as though nothing had happened, looking cool and composed, and Grant suddenly felt inexplicably angry. What the hell was she playing at anyway? And why did Grant give a flying fuck? He should be upstairs, in one of the bedrooms, fucking his way through the four ladies that had battled for his shirt. Grant decided to go for it. He wasn’t in the mood for more games. And Vivica didn’t look like she was in any game at all, so there was that.

“Hey,” he greeted, striding purposefully to where Vivica was sitting and taking the spot next to him. Not too close, but close enough to feel the waves of heat radiating off him. Grant stretched out, not too subtly checking Vivica out. “Did you like the song?”

Vivica scowled at him. Grant felt sure Vivica didn’t mean to look quite as pretty when she scowled. He grinned.

“That’s a yes, then.”

“You do not want to play this game,” Vivica said. Her voice was soft, musical, but with a rough edge to it. It made Grant shiver. “Trust me.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

“I just know.”

“I might just have to prove you wrong then.”

Vivica’s eyes narrowed. Grant fought the urge to shift on the couch, his dick stirring traitorously in the folds of his robe.

“You will not. And I am telling you now, find someone else to play with.”

“Maybe I don’t want someone else.”

“You think you don’t, but you do. You don’t care, not really. And you won’t care after you had your way. So you can go back to where you came from, and the real reason you joined this contest.”

Grant was thrown. He tilted his head to the side, staring at Vivica for a long beat of silence. “And what is that?”

“To get into every pair of pants available.”

Grant had no idea how Vivica could muster up such plain, simple and pure disdain, and still manage to get him harder than he’d been in a long time. I’m fucked.

“That’s why you think I’m here?” He was playing with fire, but that’s what Grant did best. “That’s a little rich coming from someone who’s in the very same contest.”

That hit a nerve. Vivica stood up, fire in her eyes and Grant swallowed, hard. Jesus, but she was pretty, even when she looked like she could destroy him with the fierceness of her glare.

“Don’t you ever dare to assume you know anything about me.”

And with that, she was gone.

Chapter 5

Grant gaped at the spot Vivica had just vacated. He was left in equal measure hot, bothered and annoyed. He knew Vivica wanted him. He had seen her looking, he had seen the aftermath of his performance. Grant knew what kind of effect he’d had had on her.

So what was that all about? It couldn’t be just because Vivica wanted to play hard to catch. There was something about her that told Grant things went deep, way below the surface when he was concerned. He just couldn’t quite figure out what, yet. And he also couldn’t explain why he cared so much. It wasn’t like Grant cared about her. Grant didn’t care about people, not really. So, he didn’t really care about Vivica.