Page 11 of Brutal Game

“Then what? Getting some scoop for a story for your journalist friend, Tovah?”

Despite the threat he posed, my ears perked up. “What kind of scoop?”

“Nuh uh,” he said. “If you’re trying to expose me—expose myteamfor Vi—” he cut himself off.

What had he been about to say? Did it have anything to do with his coach? Asher?

“What is there for me to expose?” I prodded. “Do you have any secrets, Jack Feldman?”

“Do you?” he countered, stroking a thumb up and down my pulse point.

I trembled from his touch.

“You do. I’ll promise you this much—I’m going to find out every. Last. One.”

4

Jack

She’d lied to me.

Stolen from me.

Ran from me.

And now she was trying to find dirt on me. Why else would she have broken into our locker room, and be hovering over my cubby? Aviva had secrets. Before, I’d onlywantedto learn them. Now I needed to. To keep myself, my dreams, and my teammates safe.

Vice and Vixen were two black market aphrodisiacs that had flooded college campuses around the country this past year. And while neither I nor my teammates dealt Vice and Vixen, I was the guy who kept an eye on it at Reina and nearby schools for the dynastic family that ran the whole show—the Silvers. Sometimes, my teammates helped out. The police were in the Silvers’ pocket, so there wasn’t much worry there—but if Coach Jensen or the NCAA found out, I could say goodbye to my future.

And Coach would never look at me the same way again. Just the thought of his disappointment made me sick.

If Aviva wasn’t here to steal info for a rival team, then she had to be searching for evidence about Vice and Vixen. And if not that, what could it possibly be? What was her agenda?

This girl who I had wanted so goddamned badly could potentially destroy everything that mattered to me. I had to resist squeezing her throat tighter. I didn’t actually want to kill her, I wanted to find out what it was she was looking for. My baser instincts reared up, dark parts of myself I’d buried. I felt out of control with desire and it scared me. I wanted her, yes: to debase her, humiliate her, show her who was in charge.

What could she possibly be trying to find?

I needed to know. Needed her on her knees in front of me, sobbing, throat sore from my cock, face and tits covered in my come, and then I wanted to tease her and deny her and make her need me so badly, she’d talk.

I’d find out what she was here for, sate my curiosity, protect my team.

And then I’d be done with her. Done with this insane fucking infatuation.

Done with feeling powerless over my feelings for a complete stranger.

Releasing her neck, I started lifting up her shirt, determined to get my eyes and then my mouth and teeth on her tits. She cried out, covering her chest and turning away from me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I caught her hands in one of mine, lifting them up over her head and pressing them back against the locker. “I told you, princess, I’m asking the questions now.”

I worked my free hand up under her shirt, momentarilydistracted by the softness of her skin and stomach. She fought me like a bat out of hell, harder than she had when I’d first snuck up behind her, like she would die if I took her top off and saw her tits.

Just how innocent was she?

“Are you a virgin?” I asked casually, as I trailed my fingers upward.

“What does that have to do with anything?” she spat, raising a leg.

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