Playing His Game (The Reynolds Brothers) (18 page)

"Scott, you
told me I'd see you Friday. You were supposed to be alone tonight."

He looks confused
but releases his hold on me and we walk inside his house. Well, I walk, and
Scott... Scott barely makes it inside without tripping over his own feet. He's
about to fall over onto the bare wooden floor so I wrap an arm around his torso
to help him stand up straight. "Come on, Scott. Let's get you over to the
couch."

The house is dark.
The only lamp that's on is in the corner of the living room and the light only
stretches out about ten feet. His place is a mess; looking nothing like the
home I left just this morning. Drawers are open, paperwork is scattered all
over the ground, and the back sliding glass door that leads to the deck has
been busted, like someone broke in.

"Were you
robbed, baby?"

"Nope. I
can't blame this clusterfuck I call life on anyone else but me. I'm a screw-up,
Winnie. Everyone knows it. But, hey," he pulls me over to him as he sits
down on the couch. When I don't go to him willingly, he pulls again until I'm
sitting on his lap. He's wearing a pair of board shorts and a green sleeveless
shirt, which is covered in his dried blood. "You and I should spend every
waking moment together during the next two weeks. It's all I'll probably have
left."

His eyes look
solemn as I take in his words. "What are you talking about? What do you
mean all you have left?"

He ignores my
questions and reaches one of his arms around me so he can grab the bottle of
whiskey off the coffee table. It's then that I notice the empty beer bottles
and open bottle of bourbon.

"How much
have you drank, Scott?"

"Not
enough," he replies, lowering the bottles to his lips and taking a big
swig of the liquor. He doesn’t even flinch as the whiskey goes down his throat
as he swallows.

I take the bottle
from his hand and throw it across the room where it crashes against the wall.
Alcohol and glass fly everywhere but I don't care. He's really scaring me. I
maneuver myself so I'm straddling his waist and my hands move up to cup his
cheeks, forcing him to make eye contact with me.

"Scott, you
need to listen to me. Can you do that?" I can see the haze over his eyes
and I know he is too far gone for me to be of any help tonight, but I try
anyway. "You need to tell me what's wrong!"

"And you need
to get undressed. I prefer you naked," he slurs, attempting to lower the
straps of my tank top.

"I'm serious,
Scott. Focus. Now, tell me what happened."

His eyes close as
I watch his head fall back onto the back of the couch. He's so quiet and
lifeless. I almost think he's fallen asleep until he opens his eyes and looks
over at me. Actually, it's like he's looking through me. It's the first time
he's ever looked at me and not really seen me. It's like he doesn’t even know I'm
here.

"I. Fucked.
Up." He says each word slowly but it still comes out slurred. "I was
doing so well, too, Winn. I hadn't gambled in three years, but I blew it. It
was when I was with my beauty. Every fucking time I was with her in the
beginning I somehow was around it. Sure, we didn't bet any real money at first,
but that changed in Chicago. I gambled away a couple dimes with my beauty that
weekend and that's when the itch started. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't.
When the itch starts back up I'm too weak and I scratch it."

What the hell is
he talking about? Itching and scratching... It sounds like he has a nasty rash.
And I'm beauty. Is he so drunk that he doesn't even realize he's talking to me?

"Come closer
when I talk, Winn. I want to feel you."

I don't know how
much closer I can possibly get. I'm straddling his cock for goodness sakes.

"Keep going,
Scott. What happened today?"

"I got in
over my head," he says, continuing to slur. "I mortgaged the house
and maxed out my equity on the house, and now I'm about to lose it. My savings
are gone, along with all my investments and no bank will give me a loan."

This is a lot more
serious than I thought. He's always talking about how financially stable he is
but now he's lost everything?

"Do you need
a loan, baby? I've got a few grand saved up. You can have it."

"I don't need
a few grand. I need one hundred grand. If I don't come up with it in ten days,
I'm dead. Clipped. Swimming with the fishes. I'm being fitted for concrete
shoes as we speak."

What the heck did
this poor, lovable fool get himself into?

"There's got
to be another way. What about Jared? He'll lend you the money."

His eyes shut
again as he groans. "No, he won't. He bailed me out years ago and I owed
more than I do now. He made me go to rehab and told me he'd cut me off if I
ever got in this mess again. I hurt a lot of people back then, just like I'm
hurting them now."

"Who are you
hurting now, Scott? You're only hurting yourself and I can’t stand to watch
this."

His eyes try to
focus on mine. "You. I'm hurting you."

"We'll figure
something out, baby. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

Scott's more
relaxed now and I think I've finally gotten through to him. He places his head
on my chest and closes his eyes and I let him, hoping the steadiness of my
breathing and my beating heart will lull him to sleep. We sit like this for a
long time and I stare at the broken glass door that leads out to his deck and
the blackened night. It's so quiet I can hear the waves as they crash onto the shore.

It's calming.

"I thought I
had a solution. Porn. Porn was my way out but I had no idea that I'd never make
that kind of money," he mumbles into my chest.

"What's that?
I don't understand." Porn was his way out. Why?

"I went and
saw Jared today. I told him I was robbed and needed to make fast cash so he
needed to put me in some pornos of his, but he told me I'd only make eight
hundred a scene."

My heart breaks at
his words. I can almost feel it rip in two. He went to Jared to shoot porn and
didn't even ask me first. I know that there are no rules in this
non-relationship we have going on, but ever since I moved out here things have
felt different. We spend a lot of time together and we're in bed together every
night. I know for a fact he isn't sleeping with Tawny anymore, so why didn't he
ask me first to make sure I was okay with it? If he would have slept with some
adult film stars would he have even told me?

I don’t know how
many more signs I need to get it through my head. Scott's been very clear in the
past, but I think this is what makes me finally realize that I will never be
more to him than a friend that he gets to sleep with. If I were more to him he
would have come to me first before making such a huge decision.

Tomorrow I'll help
him figure a way out of this mess and once he's out of this debt I'm going to
sit down and talk to him. He'll have to choose between starting a relationship
with me, or losing the sexual benefits we've shared for over a year. My heart
can't take a purely sexual relationship anymore.

Scott turns his
head on my chest and kisses the top of my breasts. Even in his drunken state I
can feel his cock start to stir beneath me.

"Hey,
Winn?"

"Yeah,
Scott?"

"Don't tell
my beauty what I just told you. She'll leave me if you do."

Shaking my head in
disbelief at how far gone he is I reply, "Your secret's safe with me,
Scott."

He kisses my other
breast and then mumbles against my flesh, "Thank you. Now let's get you
naked."

"Hold on
there, lover boy." I gently push him back onto the couch and he falls back
easily. His eyes are hooded but not in lust. More like he's about to pass out.
"I think you need a good night sleep, and if you're lucky I'll give you a
little action in the morning."

His head falls
downward and he looks at the bulge in his board shorts. "But I'm hard. I
can't go to bed hard," he mumbles.

I'm not having sex
with him right now. He needs to rest, but I also know it's pointless to argue
with a drunk. I guess I can give him a little something. He's had so much to
drink that he'll probably blow right away anyway.

"I'm not
having sex with you, but if you promise to stay where you are I'll take care of
your problem."

He grins like a
giddy teenager but the smile quickly fades. He's so out of it that he can't
even control his facial expressions.

I kneel down in
front of him, dragging my hands up his thighs until I’ve reached the waistband
of his board shorts. I start to pull them down and as I tap the side of his
butt I yell, "Lift."

He tries but fails
at lifting his butt and he's too heavy for me to lift on my own so I lower the
shorts as far as I can and then release his hard cock. I don't even bother
putting on a show for him since he won't remember any of this in the morning
anyway. My lips part and I open wide before taking his cock inside me. I circle
my tongue around him and then suck as I bob my head up and down.

I normally love
giving head, but it's because it's empowering. Putting on a show to turn on a
man is highly erotic, but right now I just want to get him off so he can go to
bed and sleep off his buzz. This is one blowjob I'm giving because I love him
and not because I'm turned on.

He'll have one
hell of a hangover in the morning but I'll make sure to supply him with water,
pain reliever, and greasy food. The perfect hangover cure.

After just a few
seconds of my mouth on him I feel him harden inside me. I leave one of my hands
on his thigh as my other hand comes up to fist the base of his cock, pumping
him up and down at the same pace as my mouth.

"So fucking
good," he groans and then I feel his dick twitch before his cum shoots
down the back of my throat. I take all of him and swallow once he's finished
releasing inside of me. His cock almost immediately goes flaccid, which is
normally not the case for Scott but exactly what I hoped for tonight. I pull
his board shorts back up, covering his package and then stand up to look at
him.

He's fast asleep
on the couch. He must have passed out the second he came.

Men.

"I love you,
you foolish idiot. What are you going to do now?"

I let my mind
wander over all of the revealing things I've learned this evening, but I
quickly get overwhelmed and filled with anxiety and I know I need to stop
worrying. There's nothing I can do tonight anyway. After a good night sleep
I'll be thinking more clearly and can hopefully find a solution for him to get
out of this.

Moving around the
living room, I search his cabinets for cleaning supplies and then grab his
broom from the pantry in the kitchen. I spend the next hour trying to clean up
the mess that's all over his house. I'm even able to clean up the broken glass
on the floor, but there's not much I can do about the sliding glass door. I'll
have to call someone tomorrow to come fix it.

After locking his
front door I move down the hallway and into the master bedroom that overlooks
the beach. I'm too tired to change so I just lie down on top of the comforter
so I can fall asleep. A moment later I feel the bed dip and I turn to face
Sinatra.

"Come here,
girl."

Sinatra lies down
beside me and I fall asleep trying not to worry about Scott in the other room.

Chapter Sixteen

I'm so tired but
something won't let me get more sleep. Even in my disoriented state I realize
this. The furry body that is snuggled up beside me is licking me from the
bottom of my cheek and up to my temple. Peeling open my eyes I'm greeted with a
wide-awake Sinatra.

"Hey,
girl," I whisper groggily. My hands rise above my head as I tighten my
legs and point my toes, stretching before I crawl out of bed. I roll over and
almost fall off the mattress, but I catch myself just in time and stand up.
Suddenly, everything that happened last night comes flashing back and what
started out as a bright morning is now bombarded with reality.

"Where's your
daddy, Sinatra?"

Creeping out into
the main room I spot Scott exactly where I left him. Passed out and sleeping on
the couch. He looks so innocent right now. I almost don't want him to wake up
because then he'll have to face the reality of his situation and that's going
to suck.

I hear Sinatra's
whimpering voice coming from where the sliding glass door used to be.

"Do you want
to go out there, Sinatra? Come here, girl."

She trots over to
me and follows me as I unlock and go out the front door. I know from my past
experience with her that I don't need to put her on a leash. She stays pretty
close to me when we're out on the beach. She's pretty tame for a Rottweiler and
although people might be scared of her from afar, she's a big softy once you
meet her.

We walk around the
side of the house, past the pool and to the sand so Sinatra can run up and down
the beach as I sit on the sand and watch her. She's playful this morning, which
makes me laugh. It's exactly what I need.

After she relieves
herself in the ocean I dry off her paws and we head back inside. Scott's no
longer on the couch but I can hear him in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee.
As much as I wish we could avoid this conversation it has to be done. We need
to figure out a way to get him the money he needs.

His back is to me
when I walk into the kitchen but he knows I'm there. It's hard not to with
Sinatra running over to him.

"Want some
coffee?" Scott asks, still not turning around to face me.

"Yeah,
thanks."

He lifts the pot,
pouring coffee into my cup and then adds some cream and sweetener to it before
turning around and handing it to me. If possible, he looks worse today than he
did yesterday.