Page 1 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

Rosie

“ W hat is happening right now?” Casey asks from somewhere to my right.

“What do you mean?” I reply, my attention completely locked on the tall, blonde— not my usual type—and drop-dead delicious specimen, standing across the room.

“Rosie, what are you doing?” Addison asks me through a giggle.

Still keeping my prize within my sight, I slightly lower my lashes and flick a sultry smirk in his direction, pleased to have him in a trance, unable to look away. Keeping up the rouse I explain, “We’re doing the dance.”

“What dance?” Casey questions. I really needed to take these girls out more, or at least Casey. She was now the only single one of our little group, and she was a complete noob when it came to picking up at a bar.

“You know, the eye-fucking dance,” I reply by way of explanation. This appears to not be satisfactory for them.

“Elaborate,” Addison demands, and I feel both her and Casey’s curious eyes burning the side of my face as I continue trying to lure my prey.

I have discovered his name is Caleb, Noah’s friend and coworker.

I’ll be honest, I had not expected Addison’s boyfriend, Noah, to have so many good-looking friends.

Between Caleb and Noah’s other college friends, Ethan and Lucas, who also happen to be brothers, the level of eye candy was off the charts.

I elaborate further for my two favorite girls, who clearly have learned nothing in the almost fifteen years of our friendship.

“Whoever breaks first loses the power in the situation. If I make the first move, he gets to pick when we leave, where we go, and how the sex goes. If he makes the first move, the control is all mine, baby.” I shift my body so the angle he gets is side on, a silhouette, if you will—all tits and ass.

Twirling a finger lazily through one of my corkscrew curls, I bump my tally up a point at the way his smile falters and eyes narrow.

I’d call that hook, line… just need the sinker.

“And let me guess, you never break first?” Casey giggles next to me, and I can feel Addison roll her eyes. I don’t care though. She can have her one-penis-for-life relationship; I am happy tasting the fruits of Noah’s friend group, content with this one being the flavor of the night.

“Never.” My voice is low and husky, feeling the effects of the flirting across the room.

For all the plays I’ve laid out tonight, Caleb is clearly a professional at this game too.

He is effortless in his sex appeal; it’s the whole reason my eyes landed on him in the first place.

It’s the cool, easygoing charm that ruins panties from one wink.

So, I give him just that, taking the straw of my drink between my lips—probably sucking with more drama than necessary—I wink and run a thumb across my damp lips before sucking it into my mouth and hooding my eyes just a little bit more.

Sinker. Prey caught. I watch him shift on his feet, his eyes darken as I watch his chin lower and he glares at me, a look full of heat and desire, and that allure from before almost suffocates me from across the room.

“Okay, we’ll leave you to it,” Casey says absently as she heads for the bar. Noah comes up behind Addy, stealing her away for a dance and, as suspected, Caleb comes sauntering over to where I stand at a high table.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, casually leaning his forearms on the table and hitting me with an easy smirk. I relax my stance and flick my hair over my shoulder to give him an obvious once-over.

“I’m good, thanks though.” I suck my straw, holding eye contact.

Caleb isn’t the least bit put off; in fact, he seems to grow bolder as he steps closer, leaning down so his face is level with mine.

Much to my mother’s dismay, I am a measly five foot two, but I claim that two inches on Addison like it’s a trophy.

However, like every man you drool over, Caleb looks like he is at least six feet.

Considering he is only slightly shorter than Noah, I’d hazard a guess he was six foot three.

“How about a shot then.” His voice is deep and sweet. Not the husky type that hums low like a growl. It’s the kind where if he sang, it would probably leave goose pimples all over my skin. Like a songbird or siren or something. He’d trap you with that kind of voice.

“What kind of shot did you have in mind?” I taunt, leaning a little bit closer, turning my body toward his. I don’t miss the up-and-down look of appreciation he sends my way. The heat of his stare burns, and I feel the corner of my lips tip up with satisfaction. Oh, he likes what he sees all right.

“Body shot.” The man is confident, I’ll give him that, but I just throw my head back in a laugh.

“Ha! You wish. You’ll have to try harder than that.” My retort gets me a rumbling laugh from his direction. With his bottom lip drawn into his mouth and dragged through his teeth, I can’t steal my eyes away from his lips. Really, really kissable lips.

“You like games, Rosie?” he queries, and I don’t miss the look of mischief in his eyes, the glint of pure madness that has my heart lurching and excitement taking flight in my stomach.

“Live for them. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, clearly we’re both playing the same one already, so why don’t we heighten the stakes.” I’d be lying if I said my interest wasn’t piqued. If I’m going by my own unit of measurement, Caleb has me on the hook.

“I’m listening.”

“Pick a challenge and whoever wins gets a prize.” I narrow my eyes at him and the sparkle in his only intensifies.

He lets me mull it over, drawing out the pull he takes of his beer, the strong column of his neck almost distracting me.

But he doesn’t yet know who the true master is here. Spoiler alert, it’s me.

“Hmm. And what if we both win our respective challenges?” I question, because something tells me this guy is a pro.

“Guess we get to keep playing until someone loses.” The way he smirks tells me he thinks I’ll be the loser. Well consequences be damned, I never back down from a challenge. With those eyes and that smile, I can’t imagine whatever punishment he has in mind if I lose would really be so bad.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the reward?”

“We pick after there is a winner.”

Should have guessed that. I look around the room and try to pick his challenge. As much as I don’t think there will really be a loser, the competitor in me wants to win—bragging rights and all. So, when my eyes land on the victim, I know exactly what my challenge will be.

“Okay, got it. You?”

“Already decided before I walked over here.” He winks at me. God, he is good.

“Lay it on me.” I wave a hand at him, finally relaxing into my stance, feeling already somewhat comfortable around him. I mean, let’s be real, he’d follow me to a cab, panting and drooling if I dropped the game and said let’s get out of here. I know I no longer need to try, but I do love games.

“Convince the bartender to give you a drink for free.”

“Seriously?” I almost laugh, but his confidence makes me think I am missing something. “What’s the catch, because I know that isn’t the whole challenge.”

“What? Don’t think you could pull it off?” He has the balls to smirk at me.

“Buddy, I’m a woman with 32Ds, wearing a skin-tight dress and no panties.” His eyes darken and I watch him swallow past a lump. “Exactly. This is far from a challenge.” I sneer in his direction, downing my drink.

And here I thought he was a pro.

“Watch and learn.” I wink at him, playing with the top of my dress to shift the girls around and plump up that cleavage.

My genetics are about the only thing I thank my parents for these days.

I’m no runway model, but I’m aware of my allure.

Finding a pair of jeans that fit my ass, thighs, and my waist, while being short enough that I don’t trip on them is a feat in itself, but these perky mountains of male catnip have really gotten me out of a jam or two.

“Hey,” I say with a bright smile to the cute bartender.

I saw him making eyes at Casey earlier, so I gather his type is sweet and bubbly.

Casey radiates sunshine, sometimes so intensely it is blinding.

But to the unsuspecting eye she also can be seen as helpless, like an injured bird.

And most sleazy guys eat that shit up, they want to swoop in and rescue her.

Like their magic penis will fix all her worries.

Casey is of course, strong, independent, and not by any means a damsel in distress… it’s just the vibe she puts out.

So, if that caught his eye I am going to need to chameleon out of my usual black-cat approach and change it up.

“What can I get you?” he asks, barely looking at me. Well, rude.

“Umm, something yummy. Any recommendations?” I reply, trying not to make it obvious I am trying to get his attention.

“You have a drink in mind, or should I leave you to make a decision?” Ugh. Fine, hardball it is.

I slip a quick hand to the zip at the front of my dress and let out a faux gasp. “Sorry, you don’t happen to have a safety pin or something, I just can’t keep this damn dress to stay done up.” Of course , that gets his attention. Why are men so predictable?

“Oh…umm…” Well, at least now I have his attention. I lean across the bar like I am trying to see if he just happens to have a clasp or pin back there so I can secure my dress, but really, I am just giving him five seconds to get an eye full so I can win this challenge.

“Oh my, this is totally embarrassing, I am so sorry?—”

“No, not at all.” His eyes meet mine, dazed and lust-filled. If I count to three, I’m certain I’ll get a smile, a casual lean against the bar, and an offer of some kind that is just him pretending to care, when really, he can’t stop thinking about my tits.

Three…

Two…

“Maybe a vodka will help. I can look in the back for a pin and help you sort it out.” Casual smile, lean across the bar, and, like I said, predictable.

“Oh…you don’t have to do that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and pretend to be embarrassed.

“I can’t believe I’m such a ditz. I thought the dress fit me…

I couldn’t even get my panties on under this.

” I shrug and bite my lip, training my eyes to give innocent doe because, Please, sir, I’m just a girl… will you rescue me?

“Here.” He coughs with a blush high on his cheekbones. Placing a glass with clear liquid in it on the bar, he smiles longingly at me. “Don’t stress about it, sweetheart, it’s on me.”

“Oh…” I leave a few moments to keep him within my net before I reach a hand to my dress to zip it up again.

“Look at that, I fixed it! Thanks, babe, you’re a peach.

” I hit him with a wink, plucking the glass up as I saunter back over to Caleb.

If his jaw was any more on the ground, he’d be licking dust in the wake of my exit from cute-bartender.

“Astonishing,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine as I take my seat.

“Please, that was hardly a challenge.”

“Surely, that doesn’t count. You cheated, you used your…your…” He waves a hand at my chest, his mouth opening and closing like a fucking fish.

“Tits, Caleb. I used my tits. Or boobs. Breasts, depending on how clinical you want to be about it. Fun bags, if you’re a juvenile.

Are you a juvenile?” I lean across the bar-height table and hit him with a smirk.

His eyes twinkle and the boyish smile he gives me almost throws me off balance.

I was ready for arrogance, a conceited man not ready to admit defeat, but he just looks at me like he can’t wait to play again.

“Well, then, what’s my challenge?” he queries, all giddy, clapping his hands together.

I make eyes across the room and nod in the direction of his victim.

“Get her number.”

His eyes look over his shoulder and I immediately have regrets because the look he returns to me is one of triumph.

“Oh, Rosie, I hope you’re ready for round two because I’m going to knock this play out of the park.

” He steals his beer off the table, levels me with one of those panty-melting winks, and turns to head in the direction of his challenge.

I picked an older woman because I had assumed one of two things.

One, he would cringe and say older women weren’t his style and admit the loss.

Or, two, he’d attempt but be unsuccessful in turning the charm fully on because, again, the older woman.

And I’m not talking ten or fifteen years older, I’m talking at least twenty-five, maybe thirty years older.

I watch from across the room. Caleb approaches casually at first, a good distance away, he says something with a pinched smile before he turns his head over his shoulder to look at me.

Then he leans in, tucks hair behind the woman’s ear, and whispers to her.

Whatever he says, it has her giggling, reaching into her purse, writing what I assume is her fucking phone number, and handing him the piece of paper before kissing his cheek and leaving him be.

The smug bastard practically skips back to the table and slides over a piece of paper, and I can’t believe I am going to say this, but…I’m impressed.

“Do you regularly fuck older women?” I ask, almost breathless with surprise.

“Only on Thursdays.” He grins before downing the rest of his beer.

“Well…we both win, so does that mean we play again?” I should try to hide my excitement more but I can’t help myself.

I was interested in Caleb for a quick and easy lay, but the more time we play around, the more I find myself having fun.

Even if we didn’t sleep together, I think I’d leave pretty content with the night’s events.

All those thoughts die when he takes a couple confident steps in my direction, towering over me, leaving me no choice but to strain my neck to meet his deep, deep blue eyes. Are they freaking purple?!

“I have another idea.” His voice is low, that same deep sweetness that promises something exhilarating and dirty all at once. I gulp and hope to God he doesn’t sense my eagerness. I need to, at all times, remain in front here.

“How about we skip the challenge altogether and go play somewhere private?” Fuck yes, I almost say, but I have better control than that.

“Nah, I’m bored of this now.” I sigh, turning to head for the dance floor with the girls.

I hazard a look over my shoulder, expecting to find shock, defeat, or something like that. Instead, it’s that same lustful glare. I think I just lured him into a different kind of game. A cat and mouse chase, because with how he grips the table in front of him, he has far from admitted defeat.

What have I started?