Play With Me (Playing for Keeps #2)

“Garrett, please.” Her eyes meet mine, frantic, pleading. “I want to go home.”


“Jennie fucking Beckett.” The douchefuck wearing the Toronto Maple Leaf hat stops beside us, grinning down at Jennie. “Shit, it’s been, what? Six years, give or take?”

She doesn’t answer, just stares up at him, hands balled into fists.

“You look good. We should hang sometime. I’ve missed you.” He laughs lowly, looking back at the screen where the previews are still playing. “You know, I always thought it’d be you up there on the big screen.”

Jennie’s fingernails dig into the armrest.

I don’t know who this guy is, but when his gaze settles on mine, arrogant and amused, I’m about this close to punching a person I’ve never met before in the face. In fact, I already hate him more than Simon.

“What’s up, man?” He extends a hand. “I’m Kevin.”

“I don’t really give a fuck who you are.”

His smile falters. “What?”

“You heard me.” I gesture at Jennie. “You’re clearly making her uncomfortable, so you need to go.”

He barks an incredulous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not making you uncomfortable, Jen, am I?” When he reaches down and brushes his thumb across her chin, all I see is red. “Fuck, I always loved this mouth.”

I’m out of my seat before my brain even sends the message for my feet to move, and I step in front of Jennie, shoving Kevin backward.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl as Jennie’s hand slips up the back of my hoodie, gripping a fistful of my shirt, tugging me closer. “Don’t fucking talk to her. Don’t even fucking look at her.”

“Easy.” Kevin’s hands come up in surrender. “We go way back.”

“Then there’s a good fucking reason you aren’t in her life anymore.” I scoop up our coats, grab Jennie’s hand, and pull her out of her seat. “Come near her again and you’ll need your face reconstructed.”

Her hand trembles in mine as I march into the parking lot, and I’m busy chanting to myself in my head about how I need to calm the fuck down. I don’t want Jennie feeding off my energy right now, not when she needs to feel safe.

I all but stuff her in the passenger seat, then take a moment in the bitter, damp night air to tamp down on the urge to go back in there and knock Kevin’s teeth out for whatever he did to make this wild girl question all her best parts, to stomp on her trust to the point that she’s wary to ever give it out again.

Inside the car, Jennie quivers, small hands shaking on her thighs. I cover one in mine, and just like that, her body stills as she looks down at our clasped hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. She shakes her head and I bring her knuckles to my lips. “Let’s go home.”

I don’t know what she needs from me, but I know I want to give it to her. Snuggles on the couch? Sure. Back tickle in bed? You got it. Fuck, I’ll even give her space if she asks me twice.

What I don’t expect is for her to bypass my hand as it reaches for her floor in the elevator, to press for mine instead, keying in the penthouse code.

I don’t expect her to kick off her shoes inside my door and look me in the eye as she unbuttons her jeans. I don’t expect her to slide them over her hips and drop them to the ground before she takes my face in her cold, trembling hands and fuses our mouths together.

My hands slip under her shirt and glide over her back, pulling her against me. She sighs, tilting her head back when my mouth moves down her chin, over the columns of her throat. I hoist her up to me, winding her legs around my waist, carrying her to my bedroom.

She pulls her shirt over her head when I set her on the bed, lips parting as she watches me undress. When my knees hit the mattress and I pull her below me, a cherry red flush creeps up her chest, staining her creamy skin. My lips follow its path, feeling the heat that warms her, stoking the fire between us.

“Garrett,” she whispers as I unhook her bra, sliding the straps down her shoulders. She’s got the teensiest freckles dotting her skin here, barely noticeable, but I notice everything about her. I press my lips there, then nibble along her collarbone, finding the hollow spot at the base of her throat as she quivers below my touch. “I want to…I want to have sex with you.”

My body stills, lips hovering on her neck, and my cock betrays me by throbbing where it rests, right against the spot she says she wants me.

But she doesn’t really.

“Jennie…”

Her fingers fall from my hair, and she shifts, like she’s trying to hide, like she doesn’t know how badly I want her.

My hand slides along her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “Stop. If it isn’t clear enough, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than inside you.” My eyes move between hers, noting the uncertainty, the insecurities, the fear. “Tonight is not the night. You’ve had an overwhelming day, and you’re feeling vulnerable, and that’s okay. But I want you to want me because you actually do, because you’re certain about it. I won’t take something from you unless you’re without a doubt ready to give it to me. And you’re not, Jennie.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “But what if you get bored of me?”

“Jennie.” Burying my face in her neck, I chuckle softly, then tug her lip free. “Today I used one of your dildos to fix a dent you put in your brother’s car, then watched you moan over every single bite of your dinner and lick your fingers clean. Being with you is like watching my favorite TV show. I’m always on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what comes next.”

She beams. “I’m your favorite?”

“My fucking favorite.”

She tangles her fingers with mine. “Can you show me?”

I do, five times over, showing her all my favorite spots on her body, whispering against her skin about everything she does that makes my life better. Later, when her body curls into mine and my fingers dance down her spine, she opens her mouth and tells me what really happened earlier today.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Jennie,” I say when she finishes. “You got that job offer because your teacher thinks you deserve it, not because of who your brother is, and not because you follow the rules.”

She traces her name on my torso with the tip of her finger. “It’s hard not to think about it when someone puts the thought in your head. I hate doubting myself.”

“And in doing so, you gave Krissy exactly what she wanted. She wants you to second-guess your talent. She wants you to be as insecure as she is. Because in the end, that’s what it comes down to. She’s insecure and jealous.”

“Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

I lift a shoulder. “I bet Krissy doesn’t even know why she doesn’t like you. Because it’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with her. She’s got her own shit that needs working through.”

“It makes sense. It’s just…sometimes it feels like I don’t fit in with anyone.”

“You weren’t made to fit in, Jennie. You stand out way too much to hide in the shadows.”

She lays her warm cheek on my shoulder. “Thank you, Garrett.”

I tickle her neck with the tip of her braid. “For what?”

“For talking to me. Listening to me. Helping me. But most of all, for trapping me in a closet and forcing me to play with you.”

“I’m not sure that’s quite how that went.”

“The orgasms have been wonderful.”

“Wonderful enough to ditch the toys?”

“Oh, Garrett.” She gives me a pitying, humoring laugh, patting my chest. “Let’s not get carried away. Men don’t vibrate.”

“Maybe not.” My tongue flicks over that spot below her ear. “But real men make you vibrate.”

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