Page 42 of The Players

She closed her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss.

“Thank you.”

His heart did a weirdthudand he rubbed away the feeling that was close to an ache. The way she looked at him, with heat and joy shining in her eyes, made him feel ten feet tall.

It also scared the shit out of him.

CHAPTER 15

CARMEN

It wasn’t until after a week after the shooting that Carmen had her first nightmare in the penthouse.

She shot up in bed, a scream lodged in her throat. It always started the same. This nightmare, in which Franco chased after her with a knife that clung to her subconscious like a dirty old coat, she couldn’t shake off. No matter what she did, it pulled her into the mud.

She woke up, bathed in a cold sweat.

I’m safe.

She repeated that a dozen times until it changed into all but a chant. She took in her new room, reminding herself she didn’t live under Franco’s roof anymore. So far, Vince had kept his promise—he hadn’t touched her with a single finger, not counting the spanking. Now Sy was a whole different story.

She found him on the couch in the rec room. It seemed he was a bit of an insomniac like her. He had on sweatpants and a black tee that showed his bandage from where she’d patched him up. His bulging biceps almost diverted her from the fact he’d gotten hurt while protecting her.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked as she walked up to him.

“I’m more of a night owl.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him.

Before she knew it, she was plastered all over his chest, watching another episode ofOur Earth. It still baffled her how easy it was to be around him. There was no fear, no stress.

Over the past couple of days, Carmen and the guys had fallen into a certain daily rhythm. To her, this was the “post-spanking” period; one of the most confusing experiences in her life. Part of her had been all too familiar with the pain part. Franco had loved using her as a punching bag every now and then. But with the guys, it had been different. Yes, every hit by Vince had hurt, but being enclosed by them had also made her feel safe and protected.

Half an hour into the episode with the migrating flamingos, her stomach growled. Sy’s fingers were lazily drawing circles on her back. Her head was tucked under his chin and as she drew in his scent, she’d never felt so relaxed.

“How is your arm?” A grunt followed. He sure liked to make that sound. “Do you need me to take another look at it?”

“No, but there’s another part that would love your attention.”

Since that part was poking at her stomach, she didn’t need to ask. But that was Sy, always saying what was on his mind. Saying it and making her want it at the same time. She could feel her body heat up. She slowly pushed away from him and got off the couch.

“Since we’re both awake anyway, how about I meet you in the gym in ten?” Sy had promised to teach her self-defense.

“Sure, doll. Just don’t forget to put on something tight.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help answering his grin. It was all too easy to be around him. The man was a huge flirt, but always said what he felt, and honestly, she liked that about him.

As she walked back into her room, she tried to come to grips with how her life changed over the course of a couple of weeks.

With the war still going on, and retaliation from both sides, Carmen was holed up in the apartment. Apparently, Keegan had gone underground, and no one knew where Morelli had disappeared to.

The situation with Vince was as tense as always. Despite her barely talking to him, he sure spoke with his eyes. He was a more than willing voyeur when Sy had his hands on her. It shamed her to admit she had grown used to seeing Vince watch Sy have his way with her.

She wondered if the two of them were in cahoots somehow. Sy hadn’t made love to her yet. It was as if he was punishing both her and Vince by bringing her to the brink of an orgasm and then simply stopping. The slow burn was killing her, but she was too much of a coward to simply ask him to get on with it. Like her, Vince didn’t ask for what he obviously desired either.

Every night, he would be leaning against the doorframe as she cried out. Or sometimes, he’d just sit on the sofa in the corner, his eyes burning with desire. Not once though did he take a step toward her. And damn, if that didn’t hurt her pride. Which didn’t make any sense. He was even interfering with her dreams. Each and every one of them ended with her in between the two men. She also blamed Sy for her condition of permanent arousal. How many times more would he make her come without finally fucking her?

Something had to give.

Luckily for her, as of today, she had another way to burn off energy.

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