Page 43 of Played
An itch tingles just under the base of my neck. It’s the same itch that warns me when there’s about to be some bullshit on the ice and I need to prepare to fight for myself or my team. It’s the same itch that scratched at thirteen-year-old me as I climbed the steps to myapartment only to find my mother on the living room floor with her boyfriend standing over her, his knuckles bloody.
It’s that same itch that prickled my skinthatnight I arrived home after a game and Kendra wasn’t there.
I’ve learned to not ignore what I’ve come to consider my warning system. Yeah, I’m in her firehouse, with her people. And I have no ties to Adina, no relationship other than the one we faked for her family and that the press has concocted with their cameras. But something’s up.
Fuck it.
Just as I take a step in that direction, a tall bulky firefighter with close-cut dark hair emerges from the hall. I narrow my gaze on him as he stalks across the room and drops down on one of the couches that has seen better days. He shouldn’t catch my interest except for the fact that he just came from where Adina has gone and anger tightens his features. I don’t know this man, but anger I’m very familiar with and can easily identify.
Something’s ... off. And that itch hasn’t let up.
Again, I move toward the hall, and just as I reach the entrance, Adina and Malcolm appear. Only when I lay eyes on her does the sensation at the base of my neck ease.
Ease, not disappear.
Malcolm meets my gaze, and for once his face doesn’t ball up in distaste. He shifts a look down at Adina before returning his attention to me. If this were anyone else but her brother, I’d think he was trying to communicate a message to me.
But yeah, he hates me.
He continues on, heading for the kitchen while Adina stops next to me. Unable to stop myself, I slide a glance back over where ol’ boy is sitting. His eyes are on us, face frowned up. Yeah, I’m starting to feel some kind of way about him.
“Everything good?” I switch my regard back to her.
She blows out a breath, rolling her eyes. On another woman, that eye problem would completely put me off. But Adina? My gut pullstight, an ache like I haven’t eaten in days clawing at me. With Adina, I just want to teach her what that will get her. Which is my face buried in her pussy, giving her something to roll them eyes at.
Goddamn, this woman is dangerous. A fucking menace.
“Yes, everything’s just fine. You and Malcolm,” she mutters. “For two people who don’t like each other, you’re so much alike.”
“Correction, ma. I like your brother just fine. It’s him who don’t fuck with me because,A, he knows I’m right about his team being trash, andB, he thinks I’m fucking his sister.” She scowls at me, but I catch the soft yet sharp inhale of breath at my mention of fucking her. Her chest, perfectly outlined in her dark-blue long-sleeved shirt, rises and falls, and damn if I’m not jealous of that patch over her breast. Forcing my attention back to her face, I arch an eyebrow and pretend I don’t notice the darkening of li’l mama’s eyes or the stain of red on her softly rounded cheekbones. “Nah, as long as he believes I know what your pussy looks and tastes like, we never gon’ be cool.”
I didn’t need to add that. But a part of me wanted to see that pretty gaze darken even further. See that flush deepen. And they do.
“This must be fun for you,” she says, and I bend my head lower to catch it.
“What?”
She studies me for several seconds then huffs out a dry, short chuckle. “You literally wiped the taste of me from your mouth. I need you to keep that energy.”
Adina walks across the room, approaching Khalil, and though she just gave me a tight-lipped, half-assed smile, the one she bestows on my son is open and genuine.
She’s right to call me on my shit. I didn’t have any business talking to her like that. It could be mistaken as flirting. As toying with her. When that’s not my intention.
It isn’t . . .
Fuck, I don’t know a damn thing anymore.
“Daddy, do you see me?” Khalil hoots with laughter, waving his whole arm at me as if I can’t peep him in the front seat of the fire engine. “I’m a fireman!”
“Yeah, li’l man. I can’t miss you,” I call back to him.
He grins, then turns to Adina, who whispers to him, and a moment later the horn blasts, and I’m thankful she drove the truck out of the bay and onto the short driveway. Khalil’s giggles fill the air when the noise of the horn fades, and my chest tightens almost to the point of pain.
Other than his grandmother, he hasn’t been close to another woman since Kendra ... yeah, since Kendra. The women who I’ve fucked in the past were just that—women I’ve fucked. None of them had ever met my son. None of them had the faintest chance in hell of coming within five feet of him, much less meeting him. But Adina ...
Khalil not only met her but laughed with her, sat on her lap behind the wheel of the fire truck. And before this, he’d eagerly climbed on her back and slid down the pole with her. I’ll hear his giggling and his high-pitched, delighted scream in my dreams, and they’ll be good ones.
As the horn blasts in the air again, I absently rub a palm over my chest, directly over my heart. I feel like I should go get Khalil, thank Adina for this favor, and leave. I have to protect my son, not let him become attached to her, because she’s not going to be around. I can’tlether be around. Because the more time I spend with Adina, the more I want to have that pussy collapsing around my dick, creaming on it. The more I need to have those thighs trembling around my face and my waist. Fuck, I want to tear her up, leave my handprints on that perfect ass, on those rounded hips. Hear her voice crack on my name because it’s strained and hoarse from all the screaming.
