Page 5 of Broken Player

Removing my hand from her leg, I tugged her off of my lap, gently guiding her to her knees. She nervously glanced around the club, but it was so dark and loud that no one paid attention. Her eyes found mine, and she licked her lips while she reached for the button on my jeans, popping it open.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Connor throw his arm over the brunette's shoulders and grip the other blonde's hand in his, leading them both off the dance floor. His eyes darkened as he watched the girl between my knees reach her hand into my pants and start stroking my dick like she was trying to start a fire. I tensed and gripped her wrist, shooting her a withering glare. "Be careful," I hissed, though I didn't know if she could hear me over the music. I could already tell she was wild and eager to please.

That only meant fun things for me when I got her back to my place. For now, she had to earn the right. I ran my hand down into her hair, fisting the coarse strands and gripping tight while I held her right where I wanted her. She ran her tongue up and down my shaft as I locked eyes with her friend now sitting beside Connor across the booth from me, her pupils dilating as she watched.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as blondie took my cock into her mouth, suctioning me to the back of her throat, and I threw my head back and clenched my jaw. Closing my eyes, freckles and doe eyes flashed in my mind, and I snapped them open. I pulled the blonde off my dick, stuffed myself back into my pants, and motioned to the waitress. I wasn't nearly fucked up enough for what I had in mind tonight. I needed to forget. I always needed to forget.

Several shots of whiskey later, Connor and I stumbled into my house with the three girls. I ignored the squeals from the brunette Connor claimed as his company for tonight, and I tried to focus my blurring vision on the two blondes hanging all over me. We careened our way to one of my guest rooms. I could never bring myself to take the hookups into my bedroom. That was my private space, and I didn't want it tainted with meaningless sex.

Pushing into the room, we were a tangle of lips, teeth, and hands until we tumbled onto the bed. I leaned back on my elbow, content to watch the show for now.

"What do you like, baby?" blondie number one purred.

"I want to watch… for now," I smirked.

They lunged at each other, pawing and kissing and stripping until they stood naked before me, putting on a show that only had me at half-mast. Maybe it was all the whiskey I'd drunk, or maybe it was the fact that these girls were all wrong. When I watched, I found myself wishing for dark hair and expressive eyes, skin covered in freckles, and a laugh that made my whole heart feel light.

Fuck. I needed to shut that shit down, locking those thoughts away in the deepest vault of my mind. I hated that they'd slipped through. I made my bed years ago and spent the last twelve years lying in it. All dredging those feelings up did was make me hate myself even more. Instead, I refocused my attention back on the girls in front of me.

Might as well make the most of the night.

Groaning,I woke up assaulted by too many feelings: A pounding head, a body wrapped around my left side, and my dick being stroked by a warm hand. I wasn't sure what to focus on first, and I pried my eyes open, watching as blondie number one flashed me a devilish grin and sucked the head of my cock into her mouth. I reached down and pulled her off with apop, a scowl crossing my face.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't do seconds," I scolded. She pouted before shaking her friend awake. "Time for you two to go."

I jumped out of bed and pulled on my boxers before striding out of the room, not bothering to look back. I needed coffee more than anything, and even on my best days, I wasn't a morning person. The closer I got to the kitchen, the stronger the smell of coffee became. Connor must have been up already and made a pot.

Sure enough, rounding the corner, I found him sipping a steaming mug, perched on one of the stools at the marble-topped island. I tilted my chin in greeting before grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup.

"Why the fuck do you live in a house made up of so much glass? It's bright as fuck in here in the morning," Connor bitched.

"You could always stay at your own place if you don't like it." Truth be told, I loved my house, but he had a point. My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the glass walls, light marble floors, and white furniture. This place was the complete opposite of who I was, and I liked it because it reminded me that things didn't always have to be so dark. Or at least I could pretend for a little while.

But when I had a hangover? This place was like a fucking drill right to the skull.

Connor rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. "Fuck off." Clearly, getting his dick wet last night hadn't improved his mood this morning.

I practically gulped my coffee, needing the caffeine to clear my head. "Where the fuck is my phone?" I muttered, glancing around the kitchen. It was clearly not here, so I stalked out to the living room. I sure as fuck didn't want to go back into the guest room until I was sure the girls were gone. I hated myself for this morning routine, but I'd gotten in the habit of checkinghersocial media feeds.

Convincing myself this small allowance was okay because I wasn't actually making any contact with her was how I justified my behavior. But Ryan deserved a whole hell of a lot better than me, so I removed myself from her life years ago and tried my damndest not to look back.

At least not much.

Finally, I stalked down the hallway, stopping outside the door and listening, but the room was silent. I peered around the door frame, and the room was empty, so I walked inside and dropped to my knees, searching under the bed. Near the nightstand, I spotted my phone and reached out, pulling it into my hand and swiping the screen on.

I'd been lucky neither of the girls from last night had taken my phone. It wouldn't have been the first time. Or even the tenth. I'd had to replace this phone a dozen times already just this year. I pushed myself up off the floor and made my way back to the kitchen, popping into my room to grab sunglasses and slipping them on my face to block out some of the intense sunlight.

Connor lifted his eyes from his phone when I strode into the room, chuckling as he took in my sunglasses. "I knew you weren't immune."

Lifting my middle finger, I flashed my hand at him, and he chuckled again. I slid onto the barstool a couple down from him. I pulled open my social media accounts, quickly navigating to Ryan's and checking for new updates like a starved man desperate for a scrap of food. I held my breath as the page loaded like I did every day. I'd never seen her post a picture with another man as long as I'd watched, which was longer than I cared to admit. I didn't know what I'd do if I ever saw that, but I had no right to my feelings of possession over her.

That didn't mean I didn't still have them.

I gave up my right to any kind of a relationship with Ryan a long time ago. When her page finally loaded, my insides felt like they'd been shredded. Her latest update was her beautiful smiling face looking carefree and happy, which I wanted most for her. But next to her was a man who looked equally happy, his arms wrapped around her, their faces pressed close together. I recognized her family farm in the background, the familiar barn visible in the frame.

My fingers were wrapped so tightly around my phone that it creaked ominously, and I dropped it onto the counter, raking my fingers through my hair and down my face. I wanted to smash everything near me, to let the storm raging inside of me out. Instead, I swallowed it down like everything else. I tightened every muscle in my body, keeping myself rigidly perched on the stool.

I needed to get the fuck out of here. Suddenly my ten-thousand square foot house felt claustrophobic. I stalked to my bedroom, grabbed a black t-shirt and jeans, dressed quickly before brushing my teeth, and walked back to the kitchen to find Connor staring at me.

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