Page 3 of Playing By Their Rules

“We should warn you,” Ethan adds, “when we play, we play hard.”

“I like to play. I like games,” I say, sounding braver than I actually feel. All I can think about is Caitlyn’s story of the other server who went home with them. They spanked her. I want that. I want it so much.

Chance cants his head to the side, considering me. “What kinds of games?”

I bite back a smile. “Hard ones.”

“Then come with us,” Chance says, his dark eyes connecting with mine. “One night.”

If I shout Yes, Daddy and wrap my legs around his waist so he can carry me out of here, will that appear too eager? Probably. I raise one shoulder in a shrug and say, “Okay.”

Like I’m doing them a favor. Ha.

Chance’s lips quirk up on one side, because he sees right through my attempt at nonchalance. “What time do you get off work?”

“Soon,” I say. “Maybe twenty minutes or so.”

Ethan, the blue-eyed grump, nods. “We’ll be waiting out front for you.”

My stomach flutters with happy nerves. “I’ll be out soon.”

They pay their check and leave. I walk back to the server’s station in a daze. That didn’t just happen. Did it?

“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asks when I reach the coffee machines.

“Yeah. I’m—” I stop. I don’t know how to finish this sentence. Finally, I force it out. “They asked me to go home with them.”

“Wait, they asked you out?” Caitlyn asks, an excited squeak in her voice.

“Yeah. I think they did.”

“I will want to hear everything tomorrow,” she says.

I promise her I’ll tell her everything, but my brain is all fuzzy. This isn’t really happening, is it? I want it to happen, and I want it so much. But the things I’ve always truly wished for never came to be. A loving family, a full-ride scholarship, a paid internship.

Maybe this whole thing is a joke.

I start to convince myself that these men have nothing better to do than lead on a young college student. They’ll laugh at me when I reach the sidewalk, and then they’ll walk away, slapping each other’s backs in shared hilarity.

Yet, when I step out of the restaurant, they simply stand there, watching me. Chance’s dark eyes glint as he smiles. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run out the back.”

Shrugging, I say, “I considered it.”

“You don’t have to be scared of us,” Chance says. “We play hard. The things we like to do can be rough, but we’ll take our cues from you, Maisie. Consent is our number one rule.”

“Consent is good,” I say. “I consent. I’ll go with you. I want to. And I’m not scared.”

It’s a big fat filthy lie. I’m a virgin and I’m going home with not one but two guys who are at least twenty years older than I am.

“Here’s where we’re going,” Chance says, showing me a map on his phone. “San Esteban Suites. I’m Chance Wexton. That’s Ethan Carlisle.”

“Text a friend,” Ethan says.

I nod.

Nobody moves.

Ethan stares at me, his intense blue eyes stern. “Right now, Maisie.”

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