Good Game_A Gamer Romance Page 17

  She pulled him even closer against him, scraping her nails down his back, and his breath caught. She squeezed her thighs around him, urging him on. Groaning, he just barely held onto his control, each thrust measured, as if he was savoring each one. The strange concoction of emotions pouring off of him—a mix of devotion, sadness, and desperate yearning—left her gasping.

  “Do it, Jack,” she whispered softly. “Go on. Come. I want to see.” Might be greedy, but she didn’t care. She needed that shout, needed to see him lose this vise grip on his control. Because of her. His surging need and insistent mouth had driven her to the edge, and she was teetering there.

  “Not yet.” His breath was a hot growl against her ear, his shoulders slick with sweat. “I’m not done with you yet. If I ever will be.”

  The words sent a shiver through her, making him groan against her shoulder in turn. The words or her quivering muscles must have inspired him, though, because he rose up further above her, intensifying his speed.

  But still not enough. She wanted to burn the sadness out of him, to leave him as desperate for her as she was for him right now.

  “Wait.” She twisted under him, pulling out and away, and he frowned in confusion, looking nearly ready to throw her back down. She rolled over to her stomach and pushed herself up to hands and knees, casting him a wicked glance over her shoulder.

  No hesitation, he lined himself up and thrust in to the hilt, faster and harder now, and she caught her breath, frenzied pleasure exploding through her. He grunted behind her, his fingers digging into her hips as he entered her again, again, slamming with unbridled force now. She let her face collapse into the pillow, surrendering completely. Every inch of him, every desperate grip, every moan—he was so much better than her dreams.

  His final shout was all the warning she had, and he rocked and exploded inside her, his powerful release triggering her own, shaking her to her very core, surging wildly outward. Well, things had never happened that way before.

  They collapsed, his body slick with sweat and fitted to her every curve. His breath panted hot against her neck. His arm curled around her waist and caught her hand.

  Gradually, she nodded off to sleep.

  She woke to the tingle of his fingers tracing across her skin. She kept her eyes shut. Soft yellow light played across her closed lids—the side-table lamp was on. What was he doing? Trying to wake her up?

  Slow, methodical, sweet, his hands slid quietly across her shoulder, down her arm, along her ribs, over her tattoo. He lingered there, studying it. His chest was hot against her back, still where they’d fallen asleep.

  She hadn’t gotten around to explaining the tattoo, had she? It never seemed like the right time. But his caresses had stalled and dallied, whispering like a warm wind. Now he was tracing the length of the rifle barrel, now the outline of the boots where the rifle stood.

  She slowly opened her eyes. He didn’t notice. He was intent on her side, frowning with such deep sadness. A brief pang of disappointment hit her that she hadn’t eased his ache as much as she’d hoped.

  Still, the tension was gone. The way his fingers skimmed her body was more melancholy than aching now. She should probably explain the object of his fascination.

  “It’s for my mother,” she said softly, tilting her face back toward him.

  He jumped a little and then glanced up sharply to meet her gaze. “She’s gone? I never asked.”

  “When I was eighteen. She was an engine mechanic in the Army. Got hit in the field in Iraq. She loved engines. Guns too.”

  “Bullets?”

  “Yeah. She’s the one who got me interested in physics. Made me promise not to enlist. Get a fancy degree. She made my brother promise too, but he didn’t listen.”

  He smiled slightly. “Sounds like a unique lady.”

  “She was.”

  “I lost my mother too,” he said softly, his eyes surprisingly clear. He looked almost… relieved, although still a little broken.

  She rolled onto her back now so she could see him without peering over her shoulder. “How old were you?”

  “Ten when she left,” he said, training his eyes back on the tattoo. His fingers still stroked her in delicate, too-sweet patterns. They wandered gradually toward her belly button. “She had been an artist before my dad came along. We moved a lot for his career, and he was always traveling when we weren’t moving. She was always uprooted. Could never quite work up a network or make a sale before we’d move again. It was before the internet in those days, mind you. I was sixteen when I heard she’d overdosed.”

  Violet caught her breath. “Gosh, Jack, I’m so sorry.”

  He wound his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “She was… quite the conquest.”

  She winced. Yes. Max at the bar flashed through her mind. No wonder Jack understood. “Do you miss her?” she whispered.

  One shoulder rose, then dropped. “I miss her a little. I hate him a little for forcing her into it, for not trying to get her out of it. But she was an addict my whole life. I hate that it was more important to her than me.”

  Violet shook her head. “No, no, I’m sure it wasn’t that. Addiction doesn’t work that way, Jack. I’m sure she missed you desperately. I’m sure she regretted it.”

  “Oh, I know a thing or two about addiction.” He didn’t meet her eyes. The tension had suddenly returned, coiled and twitching like a rattlesnake.

  She frowned, sensing she needed to put two and two together. “Games?”

  One shoulder hitched briefly. “That’s one way to get good. But not only games.”

  Racking her brain, her mouth fell open suddenly, all her wheels grinding to a halt. “You never drink. At all. Do you?”

  His eyes met hers, wary. Guarded. Waiting.

  She cupped his cheek with her hand, gently running the palm across his stubble. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

  “I’m good at hiding it.”

  “Oh, Jack. Why didn’t you tell me? I can help. Ugh, and I asked you to that bar for Mouse’s party and everything.”

  “It seems to have worked out okay,” he said, tone cautious.

  She grabbed his neck and pulled him down to kiss her, holding him hard and firm against her mouth. He didn’t resist her, letting her tongue caress and explore.

  But after a long moment, he broke away, tucking his head and not meeting her eyes.

  Reaching down, she caught his chin and nudged him up to look at her. Reluctantly, he did, his jaw tightening. Like he was bracing himself.

  “It’s all right, Jack,” she said. “Really. It’s okay.”

  The tightness drained slowly from his face, replaced by a sudden thoughtfulness. “I am so lucky to have found you.”

  “Lucky or smart?” She smiled slyly.

  “Smart would have been asking you out on an actual date.”

  “I thought we agreed I’d have refused. You knew just how to play it. See? Smart.”

  “That means a lot, coming from you.” He let her pull him back down and coax him into kissing back this time. The slide of his tongue against hers stirred her core again, new pinpricks of pleasure jumping to life.

  When she stopped to gasp for breath, he whispered, “I don’t ever want to lose you, Vi.” She squeezed her arms more tightly around him in reply. “Look, I know it’s all out of our hands, and lots of couples don’t work out. But I don’t want that for us. I want this to… I don’t know. I want more for us. Something better.”

  She ruffled her fingers through his hair. What could she say? If she confessed the depths of what she’d been feeling today, it’d just freak him out. Wouldn’t it? She had to say something, to let him know how much his words meant to her.

  “Me too, Jack,” she whispered. “Me too.”

  Chapter 11

  Jack knew Vi had seen his PayPal deposit before she even walked through the door. The fast thunks of the heels on her boots told him everything.

  He was sipping coffee
, leaning over the sink. If he was honest, he was wasting time until she got home, because he was mostly done for the day, and he missed her. And he also knew she didn’t want to be paid.

  And that he was definitely going to pay her.

  “Jack.”

  She stopped just inside the doorway, tossing her purse on the counter. He loved the gesture. Like she owned the place. Like she belonged here and had done it a hundred times before.

  She folded her arms and scowled at him. “Jack. I can’t accept your money.”

  “It’s yours now, I think.”

  “I’ll reject it.”

  “I’ll send it again.”

  “Dammit, no.”

  “You had something you wanted that money for, Vi. We had an agreement. I’m not going to miss it; the business is doing fine.”

  “We terminated our contract.” She took two steps toward him, still scowling.

  “And we had a very clear termination clause.” He grinned wickedly at her and took another sip of coffee.

  “I won’t be a kept woman, dammit.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” He straightened, frowning now. “I might be insulted.”

  “You’re insulted?” She poked a finger at him. “If this is some kind of prove-you-can-provide-for-me thing, you can cut it out right now. You can’t buy me with—”

  “I don’t want that.”

  She folded her arms again and just glowered.

  “Technically I already had you without paying you anything.” He grinned again, and a slight smile snuck across her face, a crack in her facade. “More than once, in fact. And from several different angles.”

  She rolled her eyes, fighting the grin. “Knight of Wands, cocky bastard, I’m a fool for dating you. I can earn the money myself.”

  “You did earn the money yourself. We had a contract.”

  “C’mon, Jack. Things are different now.” She sobered, walking all the way up so they were barely a foot apart.

  He sobered too and reached out to rub a hand down her arm. “If I go back on this contract, Violet, how will you know you can trust me on the more important ones?”

  She blinked, staring. “What?”

  “I want you to know I keep my promises.”

  “This is too big a gift.”

  “It’s not a gift, it’s wages. Also I still need your invoice and your W-9.”

  “Jack. Dammit. You cannot deduct hiring a fake girlfriend on your taxes. Penny would not approve.” She rubbed her temples with both hands.

  He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, still smiling. “She’ll be scandalized.”

  “I can’t take your money, Jack. You’re, well, rich, and I’m…”

  “Going to be?”

  She snorted. “And I’m not.”

  “Not yet. Violet, you earned the money. Go buy a big fucking M4 with it if you want to. Buy yourself a new beast of a computer, and we’ll set it up over there. I don’t care. But I’m not backing down on this one.” He meant what he said, even if she didn’t understand him. He wasn’t starting their whole lives together on that kind of foot, a broken contract, an oath forgotten.

  She eyed him for a long moment. “Promise you won’t make a habit of it?”

  “Of what, hiring girls to pretend they’ll be my girlfriend?” His eyes twinkled.

  “Of trying to give me huge sums of money. And that other thing too.”

  He grinned. Ah, the smell of victory in the afternoon. “I promise you I won’t make a habit of either.”

  She sighed. “Well, at least let me show you what I wanted it for.”

  He perked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Got time now?”

  “Sure.”

  “Get your coat. And, uh, not a nice one.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “There may be mud. Snow. Maybe get some old shoes too.”

  Mud? He raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask. Changing quickly, he met her back downstairs. “Want me to drive?”

  “I’ll drive this time. I’m still reeling at the blow to my independence.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think anything could damage your independence, Vi.”

  She didn’t laugh, though. “You’d be surprised.”

  A cold wind whipped at her hair and his orange running jacket as Jack and Violet stared at the muddy field she’d led him to. She stopped, listening, taking it all in. Indeed, he could hear a tinkle of water somewhere nearby. She wasn’t wrong about the mud. It was everywhere.

  “What’s this?” he finally said into the silence, trying to sound as patient and curious as possible.

  “This… is a field.” She smiled.

  “I gathered that.” He strode around in a circle in front of her, pretending to investigate but mostly he was just freezing and needed to keep moving for warmth. His running jacket was too thin for out here. But he’d probably be glad he wasn’t wearing his parka if he slipped in the mud. Which looked probable.

  “My brother wants to build a camp for veterans with PTSD here. Veterans like him.”

  Jack stopped short, slipping slightly. Ugh, this was not the time to wipe out and make a fool of himself. “A camp, huh?”

  She nodded. “Tents are gonna go over here. Platform ones, hopefully. And a fire circle here. And they’re gonna cut a path down to the creek, down that way.”

  He followed her hands as she pointed, then met her eyes. “You don’t talk much about your brother.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Sorry,” he said as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “This is what you wanted the money for? Building the camp?”

  She nodded. “If it was just for me, I’d probably still be back there fighting you on it. But for Will…”

  “He’s lucky to have a sister willing to help.”

  She shrugged. “What did you think I wanted it for?”

  “I’ve been wondering for a while. But I didn’t want to pry.”

  “Even after… well, you know.”

  “Well, I guess… Like you said, not all secrets are fun to share, and I still had a few I wasn’t quite ready to part with. But I should have asked. I’m asking now. I want to know everything.”

  Her smile brightened her eyes as she gazed off into the trees. “The thaw comes in a few weeks. He’d like to have it ready for summer. It should be possible now.”

  “That’s great, Vi.”

  She met his gaze again. “I’m going to tell him you gave me the money.” That slight countrified lilt had returned to her voice, and he was starting to realize where it came from. Here. This place.

  He frowned. “You aren’t going to tell him you earned it?”

  “Not sure he would approve of how I earned it exactly.” She was grinning now.

  Jack cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t be the first contractor to fall in love with a client.”

  “Still…” She hesitated, then, “I’m hoping you’ll be around a lot longer than most clients. I’d like for him to know you made this possible.”

  “We both did, though.” He scanned the field again. “How long has he been planning this?”

  “Hoping on it for a few years. Planning in earnest the last two. He wanted to get some other property, but his depression has been a struggle. He finally decided my dad’s back ten acres wouldn’t be a bad place to start.”

  “Your dad?” He winced again. “I really should have asked about him too. I’ve been… too self-centered. You’ve been bombarded with my family’s problems, and I never even asked about yours.”

  “No, no. You’re a private person. You were just trying to treat people like you’d want to be treated. I understand that. You expect people to share things when they want to and not before, and I never offered anything up. Mostly because my family is boring compared to yours. It’s not self-centered. It’s very considerate and thoughtful in its own weird way.”

  He squeezed her closer to him, hoping to hide the emotion constrict
ing his throat. “I… never heard it put quite like that before. It’s almost like you think I’m a nice guy.”

  “You might not believe it, given all the bullshit you deal with, but you are.”

  The sun had begun its descent, casting its first orange bands across the sky. The air grew colder, and he was glad to have her there to hug close. To have her at all.

  He leaned his face closer, brushing her hair back out of her face with his other hand. “I love you, Violet,” he whispered in her ear.

  She smiled brightly up at him, the orange of the sunset catching in her eyes, across her glasses. Her arm circled around his back now and tightened around him. “I love you too, Jack.”

  He ran a finger along her jaw, then tilted her face up to his, kissing her softly. Then they gazed out at the setting sun for a while before he finally shivered. She grinned.

  “Ready to go get warmed up?”

  He nodded.

  “And meet my dad? You almost already met him once.”

  His eyes widened, glancing down at his beaten old sneakers. “You could have warned me. I look like a gym rat.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He’ll probably like you better this way.”

  “Wait—what do you mean I almost already met him? No, wait, don’t tell me. The cowboy?”

  “Yep.” She pulled him with her back toward the dirt access road. “C’mon. I think you’ll like him. He likes butter and has no interest in Greek literature or business consulting.”

  “What about vegan food?”

  “He makes excellent steaks on the grill.”

  “Aristocratic dynasties?”

  “Uh, he may have watched a historical war movie or two. But he’s not a part of any. That I know of.”

  “Okay, good.”

  “You’re going to like him, I know it.”

  The weeks after the wedding were quiet, and for that Jack was thankful. The spring night was almost starting to feel warm, there were tulips coming up, and Violet had been spending every moment not in the lab with him. For once, life was good, so he probably should have been suspicious something was coming.