Page 35 of Play With Me

“We’re literally at your anniversary party, Kate,” I scoff, disgusted by her suggestion. With the tables turned, she’s trying to give me a dose of what she’s felt like all these years.

I don’t like it.

“Has Mick lost his appeal, Carmela? Why stick with him when you havethatwaiting for you at home, right?” she murmurs.

Spinning in my seat to face her, I’m surprised to find her closer than I thought she was. Her eyes are twin glaciers, trying to calculate my reaction to her words.

“Mick and I haven’t been together for a while, Kate. I’m moving on.”

“Well, finally. It’s only taken how many years?” she snaps back.

“Why did you want me to come tonight? What’s the point of me being here?” From my peripheral I notice a few heads turn our way.

“To remind you that he ismy husband. And that all you are is a common whore who isn’t good enough to have a place by his side,” she sneers. It turns her features ugly—all sharp and pointy in a way that distorts her manufactured beauty.

She doesn’t understand, though, that I don’t want a place by Mick’s side. I don’t love him, and I’m not delusional enough to think that he and I could have any sort of relationship now. Four more years and I plan to wash my hands of him completely.

But Kate has never come at me this hot before. So what set her off? What did Mick do to bring out this level of hostility in her? She hasn’t been this aggressive since she first found out about me right after they got married.

“Come on, baby girl. Let’s dance one more time before heading out,” Anders’ voice cuts through the tension. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me to my feet and leads me to the dance floor. It’s a slow song, some smooth jazz number that Anders pretends he’s danced to all his life.

“Thank you,” I tell him as he guides me closer.

“Don’t worry about it. You looked like you needed saving.”

He twirls me before pulling my back to his front, his cologne filling my senses as he nuzzles my neck. The familiar warm spicy notes are something I’m becoming accustomed to—something I’m starting to miss when they fade from my office. Closing my eyes, I lean my head against his and allow myself one single moment to think about what it would be like if this were actually real.

Halfway through the song, he whispers, “I think we have an audience.”

My eyes snap open, instantly locking with Mick’s, who has taken his seat next to Kate and is clutching his drink so hard the glass might break as he watches us. I lift my hand and wave at him, silently laughing at the angry way he turns from us when his wife tries to grab his attention.

Anders chuckles as he sways us to the slow rhythm of the song, turning me in his arms to pull me as close as he possibly can. “Are you trying to piss him off?”

My brows furrow as I shake my head, clasping my fingers around his as we fall into a steady dance. “No. I don’t care if he’s upset. He has no right to be.”

“Fucking right, he doesn’t.”

“Careful, or I’ll begin to think you’re a decent man.”

“Don’t worry. It’s all a game, sweetheart. None of it’s real. I still don’t like you.” He says it so casually that it takes me by surprise. My heart feels like itstruggles to beat. I got caught up in our charade, and once again, am painfully reminded that it’s all just pretend.

Anders’ words pierce my heart like an arrow, causing my feet to falter. He doesn’t seem to notice, though. His eyes darken as he stares down at me, his gaze traveling over the length of my body. “However, you do look positively fuckable right now. He’d be jealous of any man who had their hands on you.”

“Fuckable? Thought you didn’t fuckprostitutes?” As usual, his words and actions don’t match up. He’s constantly telling me how much he hates everything I stand for, yet when my pussy is on display, he’s begging for a taste and unable to stop his tongue and fingers from sinking into mytaintedbody.

His words hurt, but his actions hurt worse, giving me whiplash as he switches between the affectionate man who took care of me after I was attacked and the callous, aloof jackass that wants my body but doesn’t wantme.

Anders’ hand tightens on my waist as he lets go of my hand to grab my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I love watching your lips say the word fuck. All the vitriol that spills from this tight, wet hole just makes me want to punish the other ones to see what will spill from those.”

Feelings I don’t want to have for him creep up on me quicker than the sharp breath I draw in. I’m over whatever game he’s playing now. I thought we werehaving a good night, but clearly, now he just wants to rile me up, only to leave me wanting when he undoubtedly turns me down at the club later.

“Been there, done that.” I smirk even as his fingers grip my face tighter. “Remember? When I was spread out on my desk, and you ate my pussy like you were a man starved? I spilled plenty all over your face.” Sliding my hand down his chest, I can feel him harden behind his pants. Brazenly, I continue downward until I’m cupping him, not giving a fuck who sees us. “If you want to fuck me for real so you can seeyourselfspilling out of me, then I suggest you get on your hands and knees and beg like a good doggy. Maybe I’ll get you a collar.” Leaning forward, I press up on my tiptoes and balance my weight against him, moaning into his ear. “With a tag that saysmy little bitch.”

Anders tenses as I pull away abruptly, shooting him a bored look. His eyes dart around as he adjusts the belt of his pants, trying to hide his prominent erection. “You’re fucking mouthy all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, I am. Doesn’t stop you from dreaming about my mouth wrapped around your cock, though. Does it?” I don’t wait for his reply as I turn and head for the exit. I’ve had enough of this bullshit party. And I’ve had enough of Anders and his stupid game.

I’m pissed, I’m horny, and I have a fucking club to run with enough dick to choose from.

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