Page 129 of Twisted Play
Tristan’s expression was unreadable, but he didn’t unwrap himself from her. A tear streaked down Eva’s cheek, and I swiped it up with a finger before licking it away. It should have delighted me, but instead, I wondered if I was making the wrong decision, if I should be seducing her instead.
No.
When she rolled out of my bed the first time we hooked up, gorgeous and mussed and dressing so she could leave before I kicked her out, she’d said it—girls like her and boys like me didn’t mix. Except that I hadn’t wanted her to leave. I’d wanted to wake her up with my mouth on her pussy, take her out for breakfast, and bring her home for seconds, thirds, until I satiated my obsession with her. Instead, she’d pulled on her dress and left.
Then she showed up as our medicalassistant, and fuck, I couldn’t get her out of my head. If I let her walk away now, I’d never get her back, and I’d rather have her with me and broken than not have her at all.
“Come on, sparrow,” I said, my heart heavier than I expected. She’d wanted to play after the game, and I’d found a way to ruin it, just like I fucked up everything in my life. “Let’s go get a drink with the rest of the team.”
46
EVA
Tristan threadedhis fingers through mine, anchoring me as I pulled myself back together. For one goddamned moment, I thought I saw something better in Cole. I’d spent the whole game trembling with need as the vibrator roared to life with the crowd, weakening my knees and my resolve to hold these two men at a distance.
Each time they took a victory lap, every time they skated by me, I wanted them more, and I’d convinced myself their care for me today meant we could have something real.
Boy, was I fucking wrong.
I was about to crawl into the backseat of Cole’s car, where they usually stashed me, when Tristan stopped me with a gentle tug on my fingers.
“Ride up front,” he said. “Acting like our girlfriend means treating you like our girlfriend. Right, Cole?” The edge in his voice when he addressed his best friend surprised me.
Oh shit. They weren’t on the same page when it came to me.
“Right,” Cole said, his voice quiet rather than cruel. “Tristan can sit in the back.”
Tristan gamely crawled in. I pushed the seat forward as far as I could.
“Naw, kitten,” he said. “I’m going to shove my knees into Cole’s back.”
Cole stole looks at me the whole way to the bar, his eyes cutting to me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I slumped backward in the seat, tired of their stupid games, angry at myself for overplaying my hand earlier and showing them I wanted them, and still so fucking turned on, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
My fingers clenched on my thighs, and I forced them open, to lie flat, only to clench them again, anger alternating with humiliation. No matter what Cole said, no matter what he did, my body betrayed me.
I took a shuddering breath, and Cole reached over, snatching my hand and squeezing it before placing it back on my thigh, his fingers wrapped around mine, an inferno everywhere we touched. He said nothing, driving in silence, releasing me to shift then capturing my fingers again. Each time it surprised me, and then even more when he ran his thumb along mine, his touch firm and reassuring rather than seductive.
Tristan leaned forward and tangled his fingers in my hair, teasing them through the curls, each tug gentle rather than painful.
I hated how quickly they oscillated between cruel and sweet, as if they couldn’t decide what they wanted more—my affection or my submission. For the first time, I wondered if they felt as trapped as I did.
Me
We’re going to Pour Decisions for drinks. Meet me there?
Rory
Who’s we?
Me
The hockey team.
Rory
Massi?
Weird. What did she care whether Massi came?
