Games We Play by Dana Isaly
Chapter Fourteen
I tucked myself back into my boxers and pulled my jeans back on before I straightened my shirt and walked around to my desk to pick up a few files I was going to need over the next few days. I looked over at her, still standing there completely bared to me.
Her face was pressed into the cushions of the couch, and her ass was up as high as she could get it. So high I saw her legs begin to shake with the effort. It probably didn’t help that she had a sore ankle, but this was part of her punishment for letting that man touch her and see her.
She whined and shifted her feet, making her hips sway back and forth. I walked back over to her and watched my cum slowly leak out of her as her legs started to give out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sexy in my life,” I said. “But I wasn’t ready to go yet.” She whimpered, and I smacked her bare pussy just as hard as I had smacked her ass earlier.
She cried out, and her legs gave way. Falling down onto the floor, she looked up at me with a pout.
“Bad girl,” I scolded. “Get up.” My voice was hard and demanding, causing her to scurry to her feet. She rubbed her thighs together, no doubt feeling my release flowing freely out of her and coating her thighs. She leaned to one side, clearly favoring her right ankle.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “My ankle just hurts.”
“What else are you sorry for, Quinlan?”
Her eyebrows drew together, and her voice shook when she answered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are you sorry that you let another man touch you?” I asked, taking a step toward her. “Are you sorry you let another man lay his eyes on my sweet little pussy?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Say it,” I said, wrapping my hand around her jaw and looking into her wide eyes.
“I’m sorry I let another man touch me. And I’m sorry I let him see me.”
“You will sit the entire ride home with my cum between your legs as a reminder of who you belong to tonight.” She nodded her head. I leaned down and kissed her.
She opened her mouth to me, soaking up my forgiveness like a sponge. I licked and bit and sucked on her mouth until she had fallen into me, using my body to hold hers up. My hand remained tight on her jaw, but my other arm wrapped around her waist to help support her weight.
I pulled away and looked into her eyes. I saw so much trust in them that it made my stomach flip. I found myself wondering again where the hell she had come from. I kissed her nose and then picked her up like a child, making sure my arm under her thighs was far enough down that it would cover her as we walked out of the club.
“That didn’t seem to last too long,” Hudson said as we emerged from the hallway.
“Yeah, Jacky boy,” Wes agreed. “Have you lost your touch?” They all laughed, and I was about to jump in and tell them all to go to hell, but Quinlan beat me to it.
“Guys,” she said in a chastising voice. “Be nice. You wouldn’t last two seconds with this grade A coochie either.” They all bust out laughing while she sat there looking pleased as punch.
“Thanks for still insinuating I didn’t last long enough,” I said only to her. She laughed and turned her attention back to the guys.
“It was nice meeting you,” she said.
“Come back anytime, Quin,” Wes said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, love,” Hudson said. “Maybe next time bring a friend for me, eh?”
“Man whore!” Owen called from the balcony. “See you next time, Quin.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Maybe next time we’ll skip the fighting?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Greg chimed in, grinning at us from where he sat at the bar. “Until next time, love.”
“See you guys later. Let Anders know that if he needs anything, I’m indisposed until morning.”
“You mean afternoon!” Wes called as I pushed through the door.
“The afternoon is my morning!” I called back and let the door shut behind us.
The valet had pulled my car to the front of the club, presumably when the fight had broken out in case I was ready to leave quickly.
“Sorry about keeping you waiting,” I said to the two guys standing next to the valet stand.
“No worries, boss.”
Quinlan snorted at that, and when I buckled her into the passenger seat, I tugged it tighter than necessary.
“Something funny, Q?” I asked, leaning over her and invading her space in the small sports car.
“Nope!” She popped the P sound and smiled up at me. I kissed her dark lips and walked over to tip the valet. I probably looked a wreck at this point with dark lipstick smeared all over my mouth and makeup staining my neck, but I didn’t really care. Everyone here had seen far worse from me and the crew inside.
“Get home safe, guys, okay?” I called over my shoulder at them as I rounded my car. They nodded and went back to talking as they closed everything up for the night.
I glanced down at the dashboard.
“Midnight,” she sighed, following my gaze. “Do you know when the last time was that I was awake at midnight?”
I started the car and shifted, taking off back to my house. “When?” I smiled over at her.
“Probably a year at least,” she said, leaning her head back on the headrest. “Well, maybe a little less than a year. The last time I went out and stayed out late was for my twenty-third birthday.”
“When’s your birthday?” I asked.
“Next month. The fourteenth.” She yawned. “When’s your birthday? Wait, how old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-seven in December. I was a Christmas miracle.”
“Hah!” She snorted. “I bet you were. That’s just what every woman wants to be doing on Christmas Day—shoving a square peg through a round hole.”
I looked over at her, and when we locked eyes for a second, we both just burst out laughing.
“Just saying,” she said, coming out of her laughing fit.
“Okay, fair enough,” I said. “But look at the absolute angel I turned into. I’m a gift from God himself.”
“And humble,” she countered.
“Very humble. So tell me more about this author dream of yours.”
She adjusted herself in the seat, and my mind wandered back to what had just happened in my office before she broke the silence.
“I always wanted to be a writer,” she said as she stared out the window. “I kind of fell into this gig because I needed something to pay the bills while I wrote out all of my stories. It pays well, it’s writing, and they have a great healthcare plan,” she quipped.
“Okay, so how long have you worked there?”
“About two years? I started working there right after college as an intern and then just kind of worked my way up.”
“Why haven’t you tried to get your books published?”
She sighed and turned her gaze on me and then down at my hand as it switched gears, getting on the highway back to mine. Her fingertips danced across my hand, and I flipped it over and grabbed them, letting her fingers fit between mine.
“I’m terrified,” she confessed. “What if no one likes them? I do not have a thick skin. Reading bad reviews about my book would probably send me into a spiral.” She cleared her throat and went on. “One reason I have kind of broken ties with my family is because I had a little bit of a breakdown after high school.”
I squeezed her hand.
“I won’t judge you,” I reassured her. “I’ve been through plenty of shit myself, Q. I’m the last person that would judge you for this.”
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
“Yeah, well,” she murmured. “The summer after my senior year, I tried to kill myself.”