Play Maker(22)

“I would be happy to share that first time experience with you,” James winked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

But I didn’t want him to be gentle. Oh no. I wanted him hard and rough, up against the wall, my hands pinned over my head, my ankles around his waist. I wanted him bending me over the bar, his hands tangled in my hair, his cock sliding deep inside me.

I could feel a blush rise in my cheeks as my legs trembled with the desire that coursed through me.

“I can’t,” I told him, even though I wanted to. But I had given myself rules for a reason and it was to protect me from getting hurt by guys exactly like James. Guys who were down for a good time when it suited their schedule, their needs. “Last night was great,” I tried to explain. “But I just don’t have time for anything…too complicated.”

“What’s complicated about two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company? Naked. Several times. With waffles,” James said playfully, but saw that I was serious and held up a hand. “I understand,” he told me and the teasing was gone from his voice.

“Thank you.” I felt some of the tension leave my body, but the desire didn’t. I still wanted him, but that was besides the point now. Even if I changed my mind, a guy like James rarely gave second chances, let alone third.

But he surprised me, leaning forward and catching a curl between his fingers. “I’m here for another week,” his voice was low and sent a tingle through me. “If you ever want a nightcap, you know my room number.”

Before I could respond, he stood, tossed a couple of bills on the table and sauntered out. I hated to see him go, but I sure enjoyed watching him walk away.





12





Nicole





I tried not to think about James, but it was another slow night at the bar and there was plenty of time for my mind to wander. And wander it did. In fact, my mind wandered all the way back up to his suite and took great pleasure in imagining in vivid, erotic detail, all the things I could be doing with the hunky soccer player if I had promised to meet him again after work. I got so lost in my fantasies that I didn’t even hear Maya when she came over to count the tip jar and start closing the bar.

“Wow, he must have been really good in bed,” she observed when she had to jostle me out of my x-rated thoughts. She had been on the other side of the bar when James had come in with his friend, Ethan and though we hadn’t spoken about it, she had sent me a questioning look after he left and I could tell she had been dying to ask me about him since then.

I shrugged, trying to remain casual, though my face felt hot. I chomped on my gum, trying to distract myself from my own naughty thoughts. “He was alright.” It was such a bold-faced lie that one look at Maya caused us both to start laughing. I felt some of my tension lift. “Ok, ok, it was incredible. Really, really incredible.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “Tell me everything.”

Though I kept the more, um, personal details to myself as we closed, I recounted the night I had shared with James, including how I had turned down his offer not just for more sex but also for the waffles that Maya loved so much.

“You are crazy, you know that right?” She locked the door and we headed towards the garage where her car was parked. “No woman in her right mind would turn down those waffles.” She winked at me. “And another chance with that hot British piece of ass.”

“But the code!” I insisted. “It’s there for a reason.”

“Uh, yeah, to keep unworthy men away from us. Not to deny yourself pleasure you most definitely deserve.” She turned to face me. “Look, the whole point of the slut code is to put yourself and your needs first. What are you gaining by saying no to a guy who rocked your world? Let him rock your world again. And again. And again! Then when you’re done, set him free.” Maya mimed releasing a bird into the wild and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“We just come from such different worlds.” I chewed at my lip, thinking about the way that he lived, versus my own. I had hated the way my apartment had seemed so small and dingy when I got back to it after our one night stand. That had never happened before and I disliked getting swept up in the luxury and opulence of that kind of life style. It never helped anything.

“Well, honey, you’re not going to marry him.” Maya pointed her keys at me as we reached her car. “You’re just going to f*ck him. As often as you want.”

I got in the car, letting her words sink in.

“Look.” She looked over at me. “If you don’t want to sleep with him again – don’t. But if you keeping thinking about him – and I know that you are – and the only thing keeping you from going back for another round is some dumb code we thought up years ago to keep us from getting into relationships with guys who didn’t deserve us, then you need to let the code go.”

Maya pulled out of the hotel parking garage. Downtown was quiet and empty, one of the rare times in LA where there was no traffic waiting for us,

As we merged onto the freeway, I rolled down my window, enjoying the warm night breeze. I didn’t know what to do.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t want him to get attached,” I told her, even though a part of me was worried that he wasn’t the one at risk here.