Page 31 of Wicked Games We Play

Glancing at the clock, I realized it was already nearly 8:00 p.m. I groaned, letting my body fall backward onto my neatly made bed. The thought of sending Alana a text message saying I changed my mind tempted me, but I knew she was right. Staying home and dwelling on Noah wouldn’t change anything. In fact, it would only drive me crazier to sit and wonder why that picture affected me so badly. I’d rather put my head in the sand and forget about it, if only for a few hours.

By the time Alana and I were two drinks and an hour of dancing into our night, I feltfree. The vibration from the bass echoed through my body, colorful lights bounced through the darkness, and my body swayed against the hot guy behind me. I was grateful that Alana had talked me into going dancing with her tonight. After wasting half of my day crying over Noah, and the other half fighting back tears, this was exactly what I needed.

The brutal reminder of why I was so adamant about no strings lingered in my mind with the remnants of hurt, but in this moment, I felt euphoric. Sexy. Powerful. And as I embraced those feelings, I couldn’t help but push back into my hot new friend more, urging him on. His erection pressed into my lower back and his hand curved around my middle, pulling me against him. My hair clung to my neck, wet from the layer of sweat that coated my body, and I absolutelylovedthe feeling. It’s what I’d been chasing since my marriage ended. The chance to let loose and be free. The promise of fun. No strings attached.

Yet, my mind continuously slipped back to thoughts of Noah. I was still so angry, and I knew exactly how to hurt him like he had hurt me. I wanted his heart twisted and aching like mine was.

Petty was my middle name tonight.

My new friend hooked his thumb into the waistband of my jeans, and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to continue our game. I reached around and plucked my phone from my back pocket before swiping at the camera app. Wanting to continue the momentum and encourage the guy behind me to keep his grip on me, I circled my hips and ground into him. My hand covered his before it slid up his arm slightly, letting him know I didn’t mind him touching me like he was. The soft brush of my fingertips was enough to encourage him to flatten his hand against my stomach before sliding partially into my pants just enough to where his fingers dipped below the waistband and sat at the very top of my lace panties. I held my breath, grateful that he hadn’t pushed the limit by diving further.

Taking advantage of the precarious positioning of his hand, I angled my phone down and snapped a picture, sending it to Noah quickly before I chickened out. I was riding a dangerous line, but he had pushed me to this point. He broke me first, and I was treading unfamiliar territory. I wasn’t used to playing games or trying to get under someone’s skin.

This was toxic. We both knew it, too.

I didn’t bother waiting for a response from him and instead I locked the home screen and pushed the phone back into my pocket.

My new friend and I danced for several more songs, getting lost in the music, and I did my best not to think about the phone in my pocket that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Breathless and thirsty, I spun to face my new friend behind me, loosely wrapping my arms around his neck, and leaned in so he could hear me. “What’s your name?” I asked, realizing I should probably stop calling him ‘my new friend’ in my mind.

He was a beautiful man; he could easily be a male model with his jet black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and absolutely radiant olive skin. Italian, maybe? Greek?

Maybe I would take him home, just to relieve some of my built up tension.

“Angelo,” he yelled against the music while pushing a strand of his raven hair off his face. “What’s yours, gorgeous girl?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I flirted, shifting slightly, putting a little distance between us and dancing on my own. Angelo was looking at me like he wanted to ravish me, and I wondered if I had made the right choice by egging him on.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, grabbing my hand and lacing my fingers through his. I stared down at where we now connected, feeling a rush of heat flow through my body, but not in a good way. It felt intimate. Too intimate. I pulled my hand away from his and acted as though I needed to adjust my jeans.

“Sure, that’d be great.” Leading the way to the bar, I found an empty barstool and slipped onto it, forcing Angelo to stand next to me. The club was packed tonight, but I easily spotted Alana in her neon pink dress. She stood at a high top table, chatting with a very gorgeous man of her own.

After Angelo ordered our drinks, he turned back to me and grabbed a lock of my hair between his fingertips. “So what do you do, gorgeous girl?”

The simple question was triggering. It was one thing to dance with the hot guy in the club, but another to get to know him and give him details of my life. Even the mundane ones. Guilt washed over me along with the realization that I wasn’t interested in this going any further than I had already let it.

Operation Ho Phase was a complete bust. Since my divorce, I had only slept with one guy. That lasted all of six seconds. Mentally, I begged my lady parts to wake up and relish in the attention of the very sexy man standing in front of me, but instead, I felt nothing. “I’m a floral designer, and a mom.” I hoped by playing the mom card, he’d flee.

I tossed a smile to the bartender when he set my drink in front of me before giving it my attention, bringing it to my lips to taste. Angelo waited for me to meet his eyes again before speaking. I wasn’t sure if I liked that about him or hated it.

“I have a son too. He’s six.” His eyes lit up at the mention of his son, a feeling I could easily relate to, but evidently being a single mom wouldn’t be a turnoff, so I’d have to think of something else to deter him.

Bringing my gaze down to my drink again, I took a drawn out sip to buy some time. Angelo seemed sweet, but I knew this was a lost cause. Shaking off the thought of Noah was a completely different beast, one that wouldn’t disappear no matter how much I pushed him away and resisted his charm.

My mother’s voice popped into my head in that exact moment, and I inwardly shuddered, knowing that she was right. Honesty would be the best policy in this situation. “Look, Angelo, dancing with you has been so much fun, but I think I’m going to finish this,” I tipped the glass in his direction, “grab my friend, and head home for the night. It’s been a long day. I appreciate the drink and the dances.”

His eyebrow shot up with surprise and he leaned further into me. “Are you sure about that? The night’s just getting started. We could go—”

I shook my head, cutting off his words. “No thank you, Angelo. I’ve had fun, but honestly, I’m exhausted.”

His expression darkened and my intuition began to tingle. I knew this wouldn’t be easy—Angelo didn’t seem like the type of man who often heard the word no or had women walk away from him.

He gave me a look of confusion, trailing his hand up my arm gently. “Oh, but gorgeous girl, we cou—”

A thick, gravelly growl cut his words off, and an abrupt and painful breath of air instantly caught in my throat.

“Listen here,Angel-o. She said she was done. Unless you want to meet the devil tonight, heed my warning. If you so much as glance in her direction again or, God forbid, you ever touch her again, I will tear you to pieces with my bare hands. Understand?”

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