Page 13 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

dangerous games and public orgasms

Caleb

Me:

Feel like getting a drink?

Rosebud:

Sure.

W ell…that was easy. Too easy.

Me:

I meant with me?

Rosebud:

Oh, well in that case.

No.

That is more like it.

Me:

C’mon. Pretty please?

My treat?

I’ll pay for your Uber?

FINE. I won’t ask to fuck at any point during the night. *eye roll emoji*

Rosebud:

See you at Bozzelli’s at 7 p.m.

Perfect.

“What will it be, Rosebud?” I slide into the booth she is situated at, noting the tension in her shoulders and the frown marking her face.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Even worse.” She frowns with an impressive amount of attitude.

“Okay, how about angel face?” The look of pure disdain that she levels me with has me chuckling. “Little demon?”

“Ew, that’s Addy’s thing, please never say that again.”

“Okay, fair.” I tilted my head in assessment of her. “Spitfire? Or, how about schnookems? Princess? Mmm, nah, you’re more queen energy, but that doesn’t really flow off the tongue.”

“You are truly insufferable.” She throws herself forward, her head landing in her hands, and the undertone of exhaustion is evident in her voice. I hate it, so I try harder to get one of her smiles, to see her relax.

“Work with me here, pookie.”

“Immediately no.” She sits up straighter and a full laugh leaves my throat. Finally, I see the tips of her lips lift. She’s fighting the smile, and determination grips me. I am addicted to those curvaceous lips and I want a smile.

Leaning forward, I lower my chin, looking into her stunning brown eyes and hitting her with a crooked smile. I drag my bottom lip through my teeth and lower my voice so it’s just for her.

“Well then, how about pretty pussy.” Her eyes snap to me before darting around the room. She leans closer to me, arms resting on the table, and her eyes finally make it back to mine.

“You have to be kidding with that one?” She shakes her head in disbelief, but I see the playfulness she tries to hide. She hates it and loves it at the same time.

“Sexy siren?”

“What?” she says through a laugh, her smile almost completely breaking through.

“With how loud you screamed my name, I’m surprised you didn’t lose your voice.

Siren works, I was going to say boomer, but that just makes you sound old.

” I make a point of lingering on every detail of her face, the way her lips curve, the way her thick brows angle down and make her eyes look fierce, the thick lashes darkening her eyes, and the four freckles under her left eye that are shaped like a star.

Such a strange detail with the rest of her clear and smooth skin, but it almost makes it more beautiful.

My fingers itch to touch her, to swipe a finger over them.

“That was almost a whole year ago, as if you even remember.” She sighs, pretending to be unaffected.

“Eight months, actually. And honeypot, the noises you made are seared into my memory for all of time.”

She can’t hide the way she squirms in her seat, no matter how hard she tries. The air feels a little thicker with my admission as I track the way her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

“Honeypot is a hard pass,” she breathes out through almost a smile.

“Plenty more where they came from. I thought about thunder throat, although perhaps not as tasteful. But the way you hummed around my cock that night nearly made me bust early.” I take in her flushed cheeks and fiery eyes, satisfied with how worked up she is.

“You promised?—”

“There was no offer for sex in there, pumpkin pie.” I lean back into the booth seating, an ankle crossed over my knee, resting an arm on the back of the seat and smoothing my tie down my stomach. “Why? Suddenly feel the need for release?”

She says nothing, only grunts and crosses her arms, the smile I almost got dropping.

“I’ll have a vodka martini.” She flicks her palm up to check her nails…or avoid eye contact, whatever narrative she believes. I dipped my head, unable to hold back the snicker as I head to the bar and order the drinks.

“Dirty martini for a dirty girl.” I slide the glass across to Rosie as I settle back into our booth with my whiskey.

“Okay, so I have an idea,” she starts, leaning forward.

I smile and mirror her posture. “I’m all ears, pretty girl.” She blinks rapidly, her eyebrows drawing in before she shakes her head.

“You can just call me by my name, you know.”

“Well how can I? I don’t even know your real name.” I smile devilishly.

On a grunt, she rolls her eyes and moves on with the conversation. “Anyway, my idea. Let’s have some fun with the singles of New York.”

“I’m in.” I swirl the whiskey in my glass before taking a quick drink.

“You don’t even know my idea.”

“Sounds like it ends with both of us getting laid, so I’m in.” She chuckles, a little sparkle among the mischief in her eyes.

“Okay, we do the wingwoman-man thing you suggested the other night. Pick your trophy and come up with a scenario to help land the lay, skip past the introductions and flirting. Get them to come to us.”

“Okay.” I survey the venue, finding a tall and curvy brunette by the bar, drinking with a girlfriend. “Her.” I point, and when Rosie looks, I try not to be offended by how impressed she looks.

“Nice. Hot, I like her.” She dips her head in appreciation.

I raise my glass and nod a thank-you. Of course I would pick nothing but class.

“Okay, him.” She points to the bar behind me, and I try my best to subtly look over my shoulder.

“The Chris Hemsworth hulk?” I’m working overtime to hide the prickly feeling that coats my skin at the thought of his beef-head hands on her. Like he’d have any idea how to touch her the way she likes.

“Exactly.”

“What’s the play with him?” I look back to Rosie.

She stares at her victim, tilting her head and assessing him.

I never put enough stock into how incredibly intelligent Rosie is.

Her ability to read people effortlessly should be terrifying.

I know it hit a spot the first time she did it to me… she just wasn’t entirely off base.

“He’s got some ego issues for sure. He needs a ‘big guy’ moment.”

“A ‘big guy’ moment?”

“Yeah, he needs a way to assert dominance, prove he is the alpha. It’ll get him all jacked up, and then when I eat that shit out of the palm of his hand, he won’t bother with anyone else.

I’ll have him in an Uber and back to his apartment before you can say ‘winner.’” I choke out a laugh, trying to hide the air of annoyance that is growing inside me.

“And mine?” I ask her, though I am not all that interested in pursuing another woman in this moment. I’d rather sit here, with Rosie, even with a table between us the entire night.

“I want to hear your assessment.” Her smile is borderline feline as she settles back into her seat.

“She has a relaxed presence, but she is bored. She wants drama but doesn’t want it about her.” I shift on my seat, feeling warmth crawl up my neck as I push through the rest of my assessment. “Wants desperately to feel important, needed.”

“Oh, for sure,” Rosie agrees. “Um, quick thought, though. How are we going to help each other at the same time?”

“We’ll do you first. I’ll pine from the bar and pretend I just caught my girlfriend cheating but you have no idea I’m here watching.”

“Oh! Brilliant.” Her gasping excitement washes over me, and something warm floods my chest as I watch her practically bounce on her chair.

“Or…” I trail off, trying to bite the retort that left my mouth without my permission. I throw back my whiskey.

“Or?” she questions with raised brows. After a moment of assessing, I come to terms with the fact I actually have no interest in taking a girl home right now.

I want to de-stress, I want something easy, where I don’t have to be on.

Rosie somehow makes me feel like I can drop a wall or two and she wouldn’t judge.

“Or…” I continue, “We could just hang out, have a few drinks, talk shit, and go home.” I give her a smile that isn’t real because I’m shoving down the real feelings looking in her eyes gives me, feelings that elicit thoughts like, I want to spend time with you and, Can’t it just be us? Which is just…an awful revelation.

She is quiet for a moment, then laughs. Downing her martini, she claps her hands, pushing on like I said nothing at all. “Okay, so here’s how this works.”

Just as I suspected.

Not enough.

Rosie storms in the direction of the Hulk, pure sass and faux aggression as I trail behind her, an angry scowl on my face.

Just as she reaches the bar where he is leaning, I grip her elbow and pull her next to me, keeping my voice low enough to not alert the entire bar, but high enough that our victim can hear.

“You stupid bitch!” I growl, and she spins into me, trying to pull her arm from my grasp, a look of pure terror in her eyes that has my heart ripping. I told her point-blank I was not on board with this plan. I didn’t realize giving the Hulk a “big guy” moment meant me having a “worst guy” moment.

It’s fake.

It’s fake.

It’s fake.

Pretending or not, being aggressive with malice toward her, or any woman for that matter, makes my stomach turn.

“It wasn’t what it looked like, I tried to say no,” she whispers with an incredible amount of sincere apology in her voice, like a practiced actress. The look of fear and sadness in her eyes has me internally repeating that this is pretend. Fuck, I hate this.

It’s fake .

“You’re just another slut out for my money, letting another man put his hands on you.

You’re disgusting.” Sensing the Hulk’s attention, I pull her into me, using the hand Hulk can see to grip Rosie’s arm with strength, while I use the arm he can’t see to caress her hip.

To provide her with a gentle apology, letting her know I still hate this even if she gave me permission.