Game's Over: A BWWM Romance (Game of Chance Book 3) (6 page)

Vivica’s performance was flawless and hot enough that Grant thought it prudent to grab a drink of water from the bar before going on stage himself. Zenobia winked at him and squeezed his wrist reassuringly as she handed him his glass of ice and wished him luck.

“Thanks,” Grant croaked as he downed his glass, his heart racing uncomfortably in his ribcage.

“She’s watching you,” Zenobia said with a wink as she pulled back, pretending to wipe the bar while Wes pretended he wasn’t looking at her ass as she bent over. “Just… do what you want to do, and that’ll be the end of it.”

Yeah, easy for you to say.

Grant nodded and finished his water as Tasha walked on stage to a deafening roar.

“And now… be prepared for the closing act… I give you our last contestant in the running for Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell. Give it up for Grant!”

Grant walked out on stage with a confident smile, his leather and feather-clad suit shining under the dimming lights. He took the center of the stage, hands on his hips, and waited.

But if I had you, that would be the only thing I would ever need…

This time, he looked around, and this time, he found Vivica not backstage, but first row. A little to the side, still hidden enough not to be conspicuous, but she was there. Grant hoped it meant what he thought it meant, and started unbuttoning his shirt, sensually moving in time with the disco song, feeling the lyrics not only around him, but inside of him, believing that what they meant, this time, was real.

He didn’t know if he was in love with Vivica—that was a bit too much and Grant didn’t like to think about it. But he knew that she was the only person in his life that made him stop and rethink his routine. And well, even if nothing happened… maybe it would still be worth it. Not that Grant would be okay with nothing happening. Far from it. It would probably hurt a little more than he cared to admit, but he would at least respect it, and know, intimately, that he’d done everything he could to make her stop and take notice. And even if he didn’t dare to hope, it looked like Grant’s plan had worked.

Feeling daring, Grant took his shirt off, tucked the ends of it around his chest with a mischievous grin and tossed it at a bemused Vivica while the crowd went wild.

It’d be ecstasy if I had you…

Grant was surprised by how much he meant it. In a week, Vivica had hooked him and made him want something more than a long string of one-night stands. Grant undid his belt and rolled it around one of his hands, keeping the other hand in his closed fist as he brought it behind his neck and went down on his knees, still swaying to the music, head thrown back and lips parted.

He had put on pants that he could unbutton rather than unzip on purpose. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. This was his last performance—and his last chance to have Vivica stand up and take notice.

He popped the buttons one by one, walking with his knees closer and closer to the stage, feeling the sweat drip from his hairline to his tailbone, knowing that the gold spray he had used would soon be melting, leaving hints of glitter around the curve of his muscles.

When he popped the last button, he whipped his head up, long bangs falling on his face as he fixated the crowd with a smoldering stare. He knew she was watching, could feel the prickling at the back of his neck. He tugged at his pants and the seams ripped, leaving him in only the tiniest pair of black Speedos. The club stood, as a whole, clapping and cheering as Grant hooked his ankle around the pole to draw himself up, dragging his cock along the pole.

There was really no hiding the effect Vivica had on him, especially not with his underwear choice, but it wasn’t like Grant cared. His cock bulged the thin satin fabric of his G-string, scantily covering his tight, full balls, and the curve of his ass.

When the song ended, Vivica was nowhere to be seen. Grant bowed to the crowd, heartbeat going wild and fled backstage.

It was now or never.

Chapter 7

Grant didn’t need to go far. The moment he stepped off the stage and walked through the curtains in the back area, Vivica was right there, looking just as drop dead gorgeous as Grant had remembered. Any doubts he might have had about whether or not holding onto his plan had been worth it flew out of the window.

“What the fuck was all that about?”

So he’d gotten the unflappable woman to curse. That was something.

“What do you think?”

Answering questions with questions had gotten Grant out of a lot of tight spots. Maybe it would work this time, too.

“Don’t fucking play games with me. What was that?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Vivica walked up in his face and made to grab his shoulder but stopped short, almost hesitant when all she could see was Grant’s sleek, shining naked skin.

“I don’t like you,” Vivica said slowly, her voice strained, as though her jaw was too tight to speak. “I don’t like games and I don’t like what you represent. I don’t like people like you.”

Grant blinked. “Wait a second, what do you mean people like me?”

“Players,” Vivica said the word as though it was an insult. “Those who think they can get away with everything they want.”

“I’m not like that,” he seethed.

“How are you not like that? I’ve seen you with pretty much every single contestant since the very first night.”

“I talked to you, though.”

“Yes. As did many others. You wouldn’t even have known my name if it weren't for Tasha announcing each of us.”

“I asked! You didn’t want to tell me.”

“Like you’d have remembered the morning after!”

Grant blinked. “Hold on a second. What are you punishing me for? Or who?”

Vivica looked like she’d just been slapped. She quickly turned her back on Grant, but he made a wild grab for her and pulled her back around, the touch of her skin burning hot against his hand.

“No, no, no. Hold on a second, you don’t get to do this.”

Vivica yanked his arm away. “Let go!”

“Not even in your dreams.” Grant tightened his grip. “What the fuck happened? Someone screw you over years ago or some shit, and now you gotta make a point every year?”

Vivica’s calm, brown face was flushed and twisted with anger. “Screw you! You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then why don’t you fucking tell me rather than yell in my face? I did absolutely nothing to you, and whoever it is you’re angry at, it’s not me. Tearing me apart won’t make you feel better.”

That seemed to register with Vivica. She looked lost, as though she’d just realized she was standing in front of a shivering Grant, in the backstage of the Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell contest and with the results still to be announced, and s suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

For a split instant, Grant saw all the superiority she seemed to possess, all the timeless wisdom, stripped away. Vivica looked hurt and lost and young. It made Grant’s chest ache.

“I’m sorry. I started this all wrong, and I’m sorry I made you think I was an asshole.”

“Not your fault.”

“No, it was, too, but if you’d listen to me one minute—”

“Guys!” Someone threw a robe over Grant’s shoulders. “Come on up on stage, they’re about to announce the winner.”

“But—”

“Grant. Vivica. Both of you, you can finish whatever it is you’ve started in five,” Tasha called from the front. “Up on stage with the rest of ’em.”

“Tasha, can’t I…”

“Vivica, you get your sweet ass up there, honey. Grant. You too.”

Grant held Vivica’s glance for a long, intense moment. He reached for her wrist and squeezed, hoping that she wouldn’t vanish the moment he wasn’t clutching her. She did look in fact like she’d rather be anywhere but there. She struggled to put her game face back on as they walked out on stage to enormous cheers, fixing her smile and swagger as though fire hadn’t just passed between them, but Grant could see right through her act.

The cracks were there. Now it was up to him to catch all the pieces.

They filed on stage one by one: Grant, Vivica, the woman who had hit on him earlier, and another male contestant. They smiled and took their bows while Tasha announced each of them to the club at large, but Grant wasn’t listening. He tried not to be too obvious, but his eyes kept straying back to Vivica at the other end of the line.

He would’ve given anything to have been eliminated in one of the earlier rounds.

“Okay ladies and gents, you know the drill. We’ve seen some pretty hot shows this week, so give a hand to everyone who participated in your eyes’ delight!” More clapping. “In the Men’s Category... as of popular vote… the winner of this summer Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell is…”

Drum roll. Grant fidgeted on his feet. Let’s get this over with, please, please, please…

“Grant!”

Grant blinked as a shower of sparkles and glitter fell with a whoosh above his head and the other man in the running moved to hug him and congratulate him. Tasha had a beautiful hand made bronze crown in her hands and was grinning at him as though her birthday had come early, but Grant couldn’t wait to get himself out of their clutches and get to Vivica before she disappeared, or before she pulled away behind the mask it took so long to work under. He didn’t even pay attention when they announced the female winner.

The crowning and the pictures and the round of honor didn’t take more than a few minutes, but it was hours in Grant’s mind. Finally,
finally
he managed to get backstage, but, predictably, Vivica wasn’t anywhere to be found. Heart sinking, he trudged back to his dressing room and changed, a million thoughts swimming around his head like clouds of smoke. He couldn’t pinpoint how he was feeling. His chest was hollowed out, and even breathing was painful. He wasn’t angry, but he felt like he’d been let down—and he had thought his plan had worked. He thought he’d hit it right on the head.

Something had happened, and Vivica had been holding a grudge ever since. Which was understandable. It still didn’t fit as to why she would join in the contest. What was she trying to prove?

Grant’s gloomy train of thoughts shattered the moment he opened the door and found himself face to face with Vivica.

He could only stare at her. He couldn’t get his brain and his mouth to work at the same time. He thought Vivica was shaking. She looked distressed, but a bit hopeful, too, and Grant didn’t know if there was anyone in the world who was more beautiful.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Apparently, Grant wasn’t the only one lacking in eloquence. “Look, not to be creepy or anything but, I’m kinda sick of this place for now, and uh…what about getting out of here? And, you know. Talk?”

“I don’t talk,” Vivica said automatically.

“Well, okay, so how about I talk and you listen?”

Vivica bit her lip, clearly struggling with himself. Grant took a step forward, and she didn’t zoom away, which he thought was an improvement. He gently took her elbow to guide her out of the place, and Vivica went, even though she was looking straight ahead and had her back poker straight like the very first night Grant saw her.

“Grant! Hold up a second.”

Grant nearly groaned out loud. What now?

Tasha caught up with them with a smile that radiated mischief. “You forgot the first prize. Tickets for the trip this weekend, all paid for.” She looked at them up and down with that man-eater look that made everyone strangely uneasy and winked.

Grant was already cringing, ready to grab Vivica if she tried to make a run for it, but surprisingly enough Vivica gave her a nervous smile, and they pushed their way out without any further drama. The Miami air was humid and thick, a curtain of stars extended as far as the eye could see. Vivica took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and leaned back against the wall of the club, looking up at the sky.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

Well, that wasn’t what Grant was expecting. At all. He frowned and walked up to her, leaning by her side and looking up at the same sky. It was easier than watching Vivica’s profile and fighting with his erratic heartbeat.