Playing His Game (The Reynolds Brothers) (5 page)

So now we're
moving on to small talk? Weird.

Me: Fine.

Scott: I'm fine
too. Thanks for asking.

Me: I didn't.

Scott: I know,
but you wanted to.

Scott: How's
your shell holding up?

My shell? Oh,
yeah, the one from the beach.

Me: Lost it.
I've learned my lesson. I'm never drinking again.

Scott: Now
that's not a reasonable solution. You have to find a way to still collect them
and be able to drink.

Me: I'll work
on that.

Me: I'm tired
so I'm going to have to let you go.

Scott: What are
you wearing?

Me: Do you have
sexual Tourettes? Sometimes it's okay not to say everything you’re thinking.

Scott: No
Tourettes. I just want to know what you're wearing.

This could go one
of two ways. Should I lie and be demure, or should I tell the truth and let him
know I sleep in my birthday suit? He could get the wrong impression with the
truth. Then again, what harm could come from texts? I can flirt with him
through texts.

Me: I'm not
wearing anything.

Scott: You're
shitting me.

Me: I'm not. I
always sleep naked. What are you wearing?

Scott: I was in
bed in my boxers, but now my boxers are down to my knees and my hand’s around
my dick as my other hand frantically texts you.

Wow. The thought
of him touching himself is turning me on. Ten minutes ago I was ready to sleep,
now I'm ready to get lucky.

Me: Are you
hard? Is your long, thick cock wanting inside my tight pussy?

Scott: You have
no idea.

This is almost too
easy.

Me: My pussy
wants your cock. I'm pushing two fingers inside my tight pussy, fingering
myself and pretending it's you.

That might have
been too much, but it's true. I've slipped my hand between my legs and am
waiting for what he'll text next. I'm quickly becoming an expert at texting
with one hand as I masturbate with the other.

Scott: Send me
a picture.

Me: No.

Scott: Yes!
Please send me a picture. I won't show anyone.

Me: You have to
earn a picture. Make me come...

My fingers start
to move frantically in and out of my core as the base of my palm rubs against my
clit. It feels so good, but it's not enough.

Scott: My dick
is so hard... you feel so good. I want to go down on you. Suck your clit
between my lips and taste you on my tongue. I’d get you so hot and ready to
explode, and then I'd push you over the edge by pushing my fingers inside your
tight pussy and rubbing them against your g-spot. You'd come so hard on my
mouth and I'd lick it all up before pounding my dick inside you and fucking you
all night. I can see your hard nipples, feel your large, round tits, as I fuck
you and make you come again and again all over my dick.

I read his text
and his words push me over the edge. I come, riding my fingers and envisioning
everything Scott just described. I've had phone sex before, but never sex over
text.

I like it.

Instead of
responding with a wordy text describing the details of what I'd do to him, I
decide he's earned his pictures and I trust him enough to be discreet. Autumn
and Jared would kill him if these got out.

The first picture
is a selfie from my breasts up. My right hand holds my phone out at a distance
as I bring my other arm in to squeeze my tits together. I'm able to adjust
myself and bring my left hand up so my thumb and pointer finger on my left hand
are pinching one of my hard nipples. Once I’m satisfied with the way it looks
on screen, I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and open my mouth slightly
before snapping the picture.

The picture looks
fantastic, like I took it mid-climax. I take a quick picture of my bare
southern region with my fingers playing with my clit and send both pictures his
way.

Scott: Please
excuse me while I jack off and come all over your tits... I mean my phone.

Me: Sweet
Dreams ;)

My exhaustion is
back after having a fantastic self-induced orgasm. I may have scored the
winning shot, but Scott gets MVP for the assist. My cell phone is tucked under
my pillow and I'm about to drift back off to sleep when I hear it go off again.
A big smile crosses my face and I'm wondering what dirty message he's texted me
back.

My fingers search
under my pillow until they come in contact with my cell phone. Pulling it out,
I click the button to read what Scott's sent me but I'm shocked. The text isn't
from Scott. It's from my ex, Josh.

Josh: Drunk, lonely,
and missing you like always. Please give me another chance. I love you, Winnie.

It's been over a
year since we had our ugly break-up. I was completely devastated by his
betrayal but I'm over it. Have been for a while now. Why the fuck is he texting
me now?

The pros and cons
of starting a relationship with Scott are now a distant thought in my head as I
try to figure out what game Josh is trying to play.

Chapter Four

A few weeks
later

One more day. I
feel like a kid on the last day of school. Once I get through my shift at the
club and get a good night sleep, I'll be on my way to California.

Scott: I think
I might buy her a surfboard. She can keep it at my place since she broke the
last one she used here

Me: That's
practical. She'll love it.

It wasn't a
scheduled trip. Autumn doesn't do big birthday celebrations for herself, but
when Scott mentioned the small get together Jared was throwing in her honor, I
knew I had to be there.

This has
absolutely, positively nothing to do with wanting to see Scott, and everything
to do with me missing my sister. She can't have a party without me. I need to
be there.

Scott: What did
you get her?

Me: Me coming
should be enough.

Scott: I like
you coming.

Scott and I
haven't participated in anymore sexting, but we have been texting daily. I really
like talking to him. He makes me smile and laugh, and helps me forget that I
have no ambition and drive in this world. I seriously wonder sometimes why I
save a majority of the money I make. I don't want to go to college, so what am
I saving for?

I'm twenty-one
years old. Most of my friends are in their junior or senior years of college,
or working a nine-to-five job in a decent profession. I even have some friends
who are starting families.

I have no idea
what I want to do. Right now I'm content with working the jobs I have and
getting laid on a regular basis. Ideally, I'd like to travel and lay on the
beach somewhere. I think work is overrated. You can probably see now why I have
no ambition.

Me: As fun as
that was the last time, there will be no more coming.

Me: At least
not with you.

Scott: I hear
what you're saying, but I don't agree. We could be good together.

Me: That's the
problem.

Scott: Now I'm
confused. Good sex is a problem?

Me: It is when
our siblings are in a serious relationship.

Scott: You're
no fun :(

Me: Stop with
the frowny faces.

Scott: It
doesn't make you feel bad for me? I'm hoping you feel bad enough that when you
see me you'll fall into my bed and on my dick.

Me: Well, it's
not working. You just look pathetic.

Scott: On that
note, I'm off to buy this board for your sis. Do you need a ride from the
airport?

Me: No, I'm
good. I'll take a taxi.

Scott: Flight
1365 right?

Me: Yep

Scott's been
trying to get me to let him pick me up from the airport, but I won’t allow it.
The two of us alone in a car is not a good idea. Our chemistry is too much for
his vehicle to handle. I'll end up sucking his dick in the first five minutes.

I sound like a sex
addict because it's all I talk about, but I’m really not. I just enjoy good sex
and for some reason Scott is on my brain twenty-four seven lately. I don’t know
if it's because I instinctively know he'll be good in bed, or because he's hot
and I’m horny. It's been over a month since I've gotten laid.

★★★

I walk out into
the gorgeous California sun at LAX. My flight was a quiet one. No drama, no
turbulence, and I was able to nap during the four-hour flight, which was good
since I didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before.

My shift at the
club dragged on all night and although I made good money, I didn’t make great
money. At home the hot water in the shower didn't work, the zipper of my
suitcase broke, and I feared missing my flight. This kept me up all night and
by the time I needed to leave for the airport, I looked like a character in a
zombie movie.

Three
sixteen-ounce cups of coffee and a nap later, I feel refreshed.

There are cabs and
town cars lining the arrival area of the airport. Most of the vehicles have
been pre-ordered so I raise my hand in hopes to finding one that's available.
My hip starts to vibrate as I pull my phone out of my pocket and take a look.

Scott: Did your
flight arrive safely?

His concern for
me, a woman he barely knows, is actually really sweet.

Me: Yep. Just
trying to hail a cab.

Scott: No need.
Jared has a town car waiting for you. Look for a guy holding a sign that says
your name.

Me: That was
sweet. I'll let you know when I find the town car.

I walk down the
path, my eyes glancing at all the town cars but I can't find the one for me.
I'm about to pull my phone out and text Scott back when I see it. The town car
is three rows back and the driver is holding a bright green poster board that
says:
Winnie the Cockblocker

Scott's always
such a smartass.

Now I know he's
full of shit and ordered the town car himself, not Jared. It takes me a few
seconds to weave between the vehicles and get to the right town car and I can't
help chuckling at the look of relief from the driver that he doesn't have to
hold the sign anymore.

"Rough
day?" I ask him.

"I get some
crazy requests, Miss Adams, but holding up a sign with the word cock is by far
the most embarrassing."

"I'm so
sorry."

"It's
alright. I'll take your suitcase." He grabs for my bag and then opens the
door to the backseat for me. I slide in and practically scream when a warm palm
touches my knee.

"You didn't
think I'd actually let you arrive and not be properly greeted by me, did
you?"

"I was
hoping," I mumble, and turn to face Scott.

His hair is still
damp and from the smell of salt coming off his skin I know it's from the ocean
and not a shower. His white t-shirt clings to his muscular chest and his denim
jeans hug is body nicely.

He looks even
better than I remember.

"No work
today?" I ask him.

"That's the
thing about the real estate business. I get to work when I want. I woke up and
surfed with the sunrise before heading here to pick you up. I call that a great
morning."

His smile and
happiness are contagious and I find myself beaming back at him. His hand on my
knee slowly starts to trail up my thigh over my denim skinny jeans.

"Hey, stop
that."

"What? I'm
just trying to say hello."

"Say hello
with your words, not your hands," I scold, while slapping his arm away.
"What time is this get together?"

"It's just a
small thing at Jared's; a handful of people or so. You didn't have to
come."

"I wanted to
come... to see Autumn."

"No, you
wanted to come for an entirely different reason. It's the same reason I picked
you up at the airport."

"Don't
flatter yourself," I snort.

The town car pulls
out and starts to move through the traffic and we talk the entire drive to
Jared's place. Scott's one of those people who you feel like you've known for
years. It's so easy to hold a conversation with him. I find myself telling him
little details about my life that I've never told anyone before, like the time
I cut all the
Barbie
heads off Autumn's dolls and blamed it on the
neighbor. To this day she still doesn't know it was me.

He tells me about
his love for surfing and how it started when he was a child. I learn a little
about how he got into the real estate business and he mentions how he found his
home. I keep quiet about already knowing this little fact.