Page 105 of Twisted Play
She pressed her lips together then looked up at me, her green eyes shining fiercely. “Because when you’re sweet to me, it makes me forget why we’re doing this in the first place.”
My fingers stilled on her jaw. Fuck. The vulnerability in her voice pulled at something dark inside me. I wanted her to forget, wanted her to melt into my touch and pretend this was real. But it wasn’t. She was mine because I owned her secrets, and no amount of gentleness from me would change that.
“Oh, Eva,” Tristan breathed, gently turning her face toward his so he could kiss her. He brushed his lips over hers. “Don’t make this complicated. Just come home with us and let us give you what you deserve.”
“Please don’t make me,” she whispered. “I don’t want to have to wake up to half the team knowing I spent the night. They’re my colleagues.”
Her voice cracked, and the vice around my heart tightened. I’d watched her earn their respect—the way she stayed late analyzing game footage, how she remembered every player’s injuries.
“You’re coming home with us,” I said firmly. I wouldn’tbeg, not like Tristan. She belonged to me—tous—and she’d do as she was told. I was the one who set the parameters of our deal—sex in exchange for keeping her secrets—and her insistence on not blurring those lines pissed me off. I wanted her, and I would have her. The team all knew we were fucking anyway.
“I don’t have anything I need at your house,” she said. “Once was bad enough, but?—”
I pulled out my cellphone and unlocked it, opening it to a delivery app. “Order whatever you need.”
“Cole,” she pleaded. “This isn’t what I want.”
I slid my hand from her ass up her side, noting her gasp when my palm scraped against her nipple, then up to wrap around her throat. I squeezed gently. “You’ll do it anyway,” I growled, and half dragged her to the car, ignoring how she had to jog to keep up with me.
Eva’s resentment in the car burned me up. She hunched in the back seat, her arms crossed over her chest, the phone on the bench seat beside her, ignored.
“Eva,” I snapped. “I said order what you need to spend the night.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want anything,” Tristan said. “After all, the first time she spent the night, we just raided her closet and panty drawer for her.”
Eva flushed and closed her eyes, and, god, her embarrassment was so delicious. Why did I like humiliating her so much?
“We’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” I purred, my cock hardening at the thought of parading her through shop after shop, making her model clothes for us, leaving her soaked and needy as we played with her. “But get what you need for tonight.”
“Or what?”
Tristan’s laugh was a bright contrast to her resentment and my frustration. “Or you won’t have it, silly kitten. Why punish yourself?”
“Because I don’t want to stay the night.”
He twisted around and met her eyes. “You’re staying. End of discussion. The deal was, do what we tell you, and we’re telling you that you’re spending the night at the hockey house.”
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
Because I hate the idea of you sleeping in that shithole of a house with your shithole of a father. Because you haven’t fixed that fucking hot water heater yet. Because I need you more than I ever needed my next line of coke.
“Because we can,” I said instead. “And if you don’t order your shit, I’m going to punish you for it.”’
“Punish me?” Eva squeaked. God, I loved it when I scared the shit out of her. Her thighs pressed together. No, I wasn’t scaring her—I was turning her on.
“Turn you over my fucking knee and teach you what happens to bad little sparrows who don’t obey their owners,” I growled.
Eva’s lips popped open in that cute “o” that had my cock hard in an instant every goddamned time.
“Order,” Tristan said. “His unlock code is 2014.”
“I don’t have anything on there you can’t see,” I said. Except maybe my chat with Tristan, where we planned out exactly how we were going to fuck her on a given day.
“He’s richer than god,” Tristan said. “And your skincare routine is shit. So fucking get what you need.”
Eva’s jaw ticked. “Why do you think I don’t have a fifteen-step skincare routine, Tristan?”
“Because you’re broke and you can’t even afford ramen,”I snapped from the front seat. “Christ, woman, just get what you need for the fucking night.”
