Page 12 of Wicked Games We Play

As my luck would have it, Lily chose tonight, one of said infrequent bar outings, to sext me for the first time. And god damn if it wasn’t the hottest thing.

I didn’t think she’d have it in her to call me when she was about to come, but clearly I underestimated her. My surprise paired with the sound of her coming,fuck, it took all I had not to jizz in my pants too.

And now I had to walk back into the bar, sit alongside my coworkers, and try not to fantasize about my girl coming all over my dick instead of her fingers.

Five more minutes, then I’d go in. I stopped pacing and leaned forward to press my forehead into the glass of the driver’s window. It was cold, and the chill was soothing. My eyes closed, and I forced myself to focus on anything but Lily.

* * *

“Hey man,thought you found a set of tits and ditched us.” Aaron clapped me on the back as I slid back into my chair, picking up the rest of my stale beer and downing it in one go. I didn’t bother entertaining his idiocy.

A deep chuckle sounded from across the table. “Nah, bro, he’s too hung up on the one that got away to go looking for a new pair of tits,” Caleb boasted, with a cocky grin on his face. I lifted my eyes to meet his, a low growl reverberating from my chest.

I had told him briefly about Lily,in confidence, that bastard.

Sensing my disdain, he straightened his spine and backtracked. “I mean, well, shit, man.” He stumbled over his words and was embarrassing himself.

Caleb was our forensic analyst and was wicked smart, just not when it came to opening his mouth, clearly. He loved to stir the pot on our nights out since he refused to drink with us. His old man had been a heavy drinker, so Caleb had vowed to never touch a drop of alcohol.

“Just stop, Caleb. It’s fine. Yes, my girl called, and I stepped into the parking lot to help her work through something.” Relaxing back into my chair, I met the eyes of every fucker at the table and silently dared them to dig deeper. They knew I wasn’t one to go into detail about my private life. They were lucky to get breadcrumbs.

“I thought you weren’t tied down?” Aaron questioned, his light green eyes slightly glazed over. I glanced at the beer he held in his hand, wondering how many that was, but also not really giving a shit. He was a grown man; he could call a fucking Uber.

Three pairs of eyes landed on me and I no longer felt like entertaining these inebriated clowns. Placing both hands on either side of the chair, I scooted back to allow myself room to stand, when I felt a presence behind me and saw the eyes of the men across the table widen into saucers.

“He’s not tied down, boys, he just only wants to get his dick wet by one pussy in particular.”

I only knew one woman who had that crude of a mouth; a woman who I had become very close friends with.

Rosie.

Throughout the time that my ex, Elle, and I had dated, Rosie had been a fixture in our relationship. She was Elle’s best friend and when she wasn’t with me, she was with Rosie. When they weren’t together, they were almost always texting or on a video call.

Rosie and I had become friends while Elle and I had been together, but after we split, she had wedged her way into my life even further and somehow had become the little sister I didn’t want. Aside from being a tremendous pain in the ass, Rosie was also a loyal,realfriend; a confidant, and someone who I became extremely grateful for.

I barked a laugh, scooting my chair out further and pulling her to sit on my knee before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Rosie leaned into me, wrapping her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. She smelled of lavender, rum, and stale cigarette smoke.

Caleb and Will sat across from us, staring with a mix of jealousy and confusion on their faces.

“Guys, meet Rosie. Rosie, guys.” I waved my hand in front of me, showing that I was talking about the buffoons around me. “Ridgewood’s finest, at your service.” My tone was condescending, but everyone who knew me knew that I truly loved my job. These dumbasses were just par for the course, and they were lucky that I found them entertaining enough to spend my free time with them. Sometimes.

A collective round of ‘hellos’ greeted her as she gave each one her full attention with a moment of flirtatious eye contact before flicking over to the next face. Rosie loved to toy with men. When her head pulled toward Aaron on my left, I followed her gaze and nearly burst out laughing at the awestruck look on his little playboy face. The kid looked like he had just fallen head over heels and the little firecracker sitting on me was none the wiser.

When she turned her attention over to me again, her stare was assessing and I felt like I was about to be under interrogation.

“She’s still playing hard to get?” Rosie questioned. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted to say more but was holding back. Whether for my benefit or because of the audience around us, I was unsure.

I grunted in response.

“Time to bring out the big guns,” she crooned. “You have to make her jealous.”

“Make her jealous?”

“Yep.” She popped the P and grinned at me. “Make her go batshit crazy in a jealous rage. She’ll come crawling to you then, babe.”

My eyes narrowed, silently disagreeing with her. Making Lily jealous wouldn’t do shit except for piss her off and push her further away. Women didn’t want to feel jealous and angry. They wanted to feel special and worshipped. Right?

The glint in Rosie’s eye told me that I was wrong about that, but not every woman was like Rosie.

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