The Lover’s Game (No Exceptions #2)(19)
Author: J.C. Reed

His words spun in my mind as I struggled to make sense of them. He looked like a lone wolf: wild, powerful, ready to pounce and ravish my body in a hard way. He was what Sylvie liked to call a DBM: a dark, broody, moody guy—someone who couldn’t be held on to.

As I regarded him through the hazy curtain before my eyes, I realized I was drawn to him, not because he was my type—he was every woman’s type—but because I recognized my own misery when I looked into his dark eyes. Something about him was like balm to my tormented soul, and I felt as though I was darkness longing to be with my own kind. He was the kind of man who could quiet a heart through the calmness he excluded, but most importantly, he was like the elixir I needed to become myself again.

“What do you want me to give you?” I asked quietly.

He raised an eyebrow at me and moistened his lips. Round, full lips that were worth kissing, and yet they were not Jett’s. I hated that fact, but I hated myself more for thinking it. I hated myself for wanting Jett when Check was sexy and available, when he could help me.

Wanting a man only to use him to get over a broken heart was pathetic and yet…

“Sex.” Coming from him, the word sounded like a demand. My skin tingled from his straightforward approach.

“Sex?” I repeated and laughed, the sound echoing eerily in my ears.

He didn’t reply. Instead, his fingers began to tap on the table in a slow rhythm. They were long, the nails manicured. I stared at them, fixated, captured by the tiny movement that seemed to cause a rumbling roll inside my brain.

“And what would I get in return?” I asked, my gaze still glued to his fingers, which seemed to shimmer in the violet light.

“More sex. Better sex.”

“Right.” I giggled nervously. “Sex for sex?”

“And satisfaction,” he added, “pleasure.” He let the word roll on this tongue. “Quick, hot, toe-curling pleasure that you will never, ever forget.”

As if it was even possible, he leaned just a little bit closer, so close I could almost feel his energy and his breath on my lips. Waves of something strong seemed to pour from him and into me, as though he was invading my mind, filling it with his, until I could no longer form a coherent thought.

“Sex can mean a lot of things, Jenna.” His voice was calm, more forceful than before, and there was a hard edge to it. Or maybe it was his eyes, all dark and deep, as if they had somehow captured the entire ocean in them. They were so beautiful I could hardly focus on anything else anymore. “It can be meaningless,” he continued, his fingers brushing over my hand, “or it can be full of adventure—the kind you’ve never experienced before. Which one do you prefer? The one that comes with no strings attached?”

I almost jumped back in shock as his hands brushed my knee, his thumb trailing the delicate skin.

“Or the kind that makes you feel you’re being owned?” A flash of a grin grazed his lips, and I couldn’t help but think that he was a master of seduction and persuasion. Not in an obvious kind of way, but his technique seemed to work.

I groaned inwardly as the realization dawned on me. As I stared at him, I understood why the woman had run away. The guy wasn’t a creep. Check wasn’t there because he was single or looking for a date.

Come on. A handsome stranger called ‘Check’, asking for instant sex. What do you think he is, Stewart?

Holy dang. He was a male prostitute and anytime now he’d disclose his price per hour. It was so obvious I almost slapped my forehead for not realizing it sooner.

I stared at him, disgusted.

“How stupid do you think I am?” I asked, shame and humiliation burning through me. I gulped down a large mouthful of air before I continued, “I don’t have the money, and even if I wanted to have sex, which I don’t, and even if I wasn’t a $100,000 in debt, I’d never sleep with a prostitute.”

I grabbed my bag and stood on shaky legs, ready to storm through the curtains, just like the other woman had, when the room started to spin so fast that I fell. Somewhere to my right, a glass smashed against the floor. Strong arms grabbed me before I hit the floor. I flinched, fighting the urge to sink into them.

If only he wasn’t—

“I’m not a prostitute,” he hissed in my ear as he helped me up.

He wasn’t?

I tried to stand and apologize for knocking over his glass, but my words remained trapped behind my lips. The alcohol rushing through my veins was strong enough to make my knees give way beneath me. Were it not for his hands holding me, I would have tumbled to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” I felt silly for my outburst, for knocking over his glass, and for the nonsensical accusation; for my body being so drunk I was out of control.

As much as I wanted to explain, my words failed me. My mind was a blurry mess, my thoughts rushing around like the tumult at the bottom of a waterfall. Everything, from the stranger to the room, was spinning fast. I closed my eyes again, and before I could stop myself, I leaned my head against his chest, until the spinning slowed down and I felt better.

“Are you high, Jenna?” he asked from what seemed like a million miles away.

I shook my head. The thought that I was high was so absurd I laughed out loud. “I’m most certainly not high. Trust me, I would know if I was.” I peeled myself off his chest and met his gaze.

For some reason, I expected him to smile, but he didn’t. His face was a serious mask, his mouth was pressed into a thin line, and that frown was on his face again.

Clearly, he didn’t believe me.

The thought that the handsome stranger thought I was a drug user when I had barely had a cocktail enraged me, and my temper flared.

“You know what? You have no right to judge me.” I pushed a finger into his chest, marveling at how hard his body felt. “It’s not your right to be accusatory when you don’t know me. I’ve had a rough day. Maybe I look like I’m high and sound drunk, but you know what? You sound and look like my cheater ex.” I pushed out my chin defiantly as I stared him down.

He looked taken aback.

Pushing his arm away, I tried to put some distance between us, but he held on to me tight, until I could almost sense the beating of his heart, calm and steady.

“A man who doesn’t respect his woman isn’t worth keeping,” he whispered against my earlobe, his voice caressing every nerve ending. “No woman deserves to be cheated on. I’m glad you ditched the bastard.”

“Yeah, so am I,” I replied and wiped a hand over my eyes before the telltale moisture could give away my state of mind. His words, short and superficial as they were, touched me.