Page 64 of Games We Play (Thistle Cove 2)

The following month goes by in a blur.

Brice Waller wins his election by a landslide, ousting the former longstanding mayor. After Monica’s confession, Brice gained national attention. The country was riveted by how this man pushed through the devastation of losing a daughter, first to suspected suicide, then to find out she’d been murdered. He’s become an icon for politicians—stoic and strong. Jason Chandler stood on the podium next to him during his first post-win speech. Both victims. Best friends. Mr. Baxter only a few feet away. Thirty years and they’re still thick as thieves. Not even murder can pull them apart. There’s talk that if his first term goes well, he may be considered for a higher position in state government. Who says scandal doesn’t pay?

“We’re definitely getting better at this,” Ozzy says, lips pressed against my neck. A shiver prickles down my skin.

“At sex or doing it in the car?” I ask, licking his ear. He squirms—ticklish. I can’t help but laugh, too.

“Both.”

We’re in the back of the Honda. After a couple of tries, we found the best position. Ozzy sits, and I straddle his legs. I wore a skirt for the game—another way that we’ve gotten better, smarter. I can feel him deep inside, see his face, kiss his mouth. His hands have the freedom to roam, although he spends an inordinate amount of time on my tits. He can’t get enough of them, and the truth is I’ve discovered how sensitive they are and can’t get enough of it either.

The game—the big one—starts in an hour, giving Ozzy and I time to kill. Once it’s over my attention will be on Ezra and Finn. Commiserating or celebrating. It’s a big deal regardless, and Ozzy and I both needed to expend a little nervous energy.

We fall into a rhythm, his thumbs digging into my hips. Ozzy’s eyes glaze over, consumed by lust—or maybe something else. We haven’t said it, but I feel it. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my chest, across every inch of my skin.

I love him.

And I’m starting to love the others, too.

The coil in my lower belly builds, and I focus on his mouth, his lips, his tongue. I roll my hips, something I know he likes, and he clings to me like he’s afraid I’ll take off. His touch is painfully gentle, his breath hot, and we fall into the ebb just before we shatter. Ozzy’s head falls into my shoulder and my teeth sink into his flesh, trying to stifle a deep-seated moan, but failing miserably.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning his head back against the seat. “Definitely getting better.”

He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and runs his fingers down my sweat sticky neck. We redress, Ozzy searching the floorboards for his clothes. Instead, he holds up a handful of business cards from under the seat.

“Lose these?”

I frown trying to place them, then remember the night I’d taken them from Ezra’s kitchen.

“Just shove them in that little console,” I say, working my panties back on.

“I almost lost my mind when you went missing that night,” he confesses. “Promise me no more trouble.”

“I promise,” I reply, sealing it with a kiss. “Besides, we live in Thistle Cove. The one murderer we had is now in jail. What kind of trouble do you think I’m going to get into?”

He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “For some reason I have the feeling that if there’s any way around, you’ll find it.”

He’s wrong though, I’m swearing off trouble. Not because I don’t seek the truth and justice, but because I’ve learned there is no such thing in a place like Thistle Cove. I’m better off leaving it alone.

The final buzzer blares, calling the end of the game. Thirty-six to thirty-four. Vikings win.

Ozzy keeps his fingers laced with mine, even once we’re among the throng of fans rushing the field. He lost me once at a game like this. He’s not letting it happen again.

“They’re going to be unbearable,” Ozzy says, but he’s smiling, as proud as everyone else.

“Completely,” I agree. I push through the cheerleaders and parents and launch myself at Finn. He smells awful, but at the same time, so good. Like victory.

“Congratulations.”

His arms squeeze tight. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can.”

It takes everything in me not to shove my tongue down his throat and congratulate him properly. Later, I remind myself. I can do that later.

He releases me, and I step back. Finn had an incredible game and everyone will want a piece of him tonight. I’ve waited years for him, I can wait longer. He shares me and for tonight, I can share him.

“You killed it out there, man,” Ozzy says, bro-hugging Ezra. I step forward but his eyes dart over my shoulder. I glance back. Mr. Baxter’s watching. That still hasn’t been resolved and since the stuff with Monica and Jason Chandler…things are actually worse.

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