Page 19 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Stay Away

Dakota

I ’m not sure I’ve ever wanted any girl more than I wanted Ottavia.

She writhed beneath me as our lips met, every kiss an urgent plea for more.

As my hands explored her curves, her body itself felt electric, as if a palpable current of desire surged through her.

I could taste the charge on her full lips and feel it tingling against the tips of my fingers.

I reached into the side slit of her sexy dress, and she squirmed with pent-up desire. My hand wandered higher, seeking the balmy heat between her legs. I ran my finger against her crotch, and my cock throbbed with need—her panties were utterly drenched.

Oh my God.

Slipping a finger beneath her panties, I stroked her silky folds. Her hot, sticky wetness coated my fingers, making my cock throb. Circling her hot hole with my finger, she radiated heat like a blast furnace. I couldn’t take it anymore—I had to feel inside her.

And just as I started to push my finger into her wet, warm, heavenly embrace—

Somebody unlocked the door.

I jerked back.

Whoa, what?

My first thought was that it was Mr. Capuano, armed with a machine gun, ready to pump me full of lead.

My second thought, that it was one of Mr. Capuano’s henchmen, like Ottavia’s driver, seemed more realistic. Surely Mr. Capuano didn’t do his own dirty work, right?

But when guilt crested Ottavia’s face, and she couldn’t even bear to look me in the eye, I knew who it really was: her boyfriend.

Oh no … you lied? I thought, my heart sinking.

And I’m surprised at how much that realization hurt.

Because honestly, I’ve never really been a stand-up character when it came to women.

In the very few and short-lived relationships I’ve been in, I’ll admit, I failed to take commitment seriously.

And I know, for a fact, girls have cheated on their boyfriends with me before. And it never bothered me.

So why, then, did this bother me?

I didn’t know, but Ottavia and I didn’t have time to explore this mystery of emotion, as the penthouse door quickly opened and the other man stepped in.

Ottavia and I had only a precious few seconds before he found us—with the back of the couch facing the door, the dude didn’t have a direct line of sight to see his girlfriend lying with another man. But with how the spacious suite was set up, there was no chance of us hiding or escaping.

Slowly, I pulled my hand out of the slit of her dress. It seemed like the least I could do.

“Tavi? You home?” the poor bastard asked as he wandered in.

Tavi? That’s what he calls her? I thought, repulsed, somehow. Ottavia was such a beautiful name, so fun to say and lovely to hear—and yet he wanted to call her Tavi?

You don’t deserve her, I thought, which I’m not proud of, because I know absolutely nothing about that guy and, hell, very little about Ottavia herself.

Ottavia began to stir. Slowly, she poked her head up and peeked over the back of the couch.

Her boyfriend chuckled. “Why, hello there. You’re popping up like a mole. Did I wake you?”

“Leo …” she said, her voice sullen.

“What’s wrong?” Leo responded, instantly knowing something was up.

“I’m … sorry.”

“Sorry for what, hon?” he asked, slowly stepping closer.

Guess that’s my cue.

Slowly, I sat up.

Leo looked a little younger, probably closer to Ottavia’s age, but he wasn’t a bad-looking dude. Dressed in a sharp suit, he exuded an air of confidence—though, admittedly, it quickly dissipated when he saw me staring back at him.

“Hey, bud.” I gave the guy a half-hearted wave and made that face politicians always do when they’re caught in a sex scandal. You know the one—the exaggerated frown with your cheeks puffed out, as if to say, Yep, ya caught me, and yep, I’m guilty.

He didn’t wave back. He turned to Ottavia. “Tavi,” he began slowly, “ please tell me you didn’t bring someone back to our suite.”

“You told me you weren’t coming back,” Ottavia replied defensively.

I bent over and started putting my shoes on.

“That doesn’t mean you can just do whatever,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Be smart about it, Tavi. There are rules for a reason.”

She sighed.

Something seemed odd here—I mean, yeah, obviously he’d just walked in on his girlfriend with someone else—but the way they were arguing about it seemed really …

odd. Like they were actually arguing over something else entirely.

Maybe they were swingers or something?? Or one of those couples that was always getting back together just to break up again a week later?

I didn’t know. Regardless, it wasn’t my place.

“I should probably get going,” I murmured, catching Ottavia’s eyes.

She frowned, mouthing the word, No.

I responded with a shrug, because what the hell did she want me to do? Convince her boyfriend that their relationship was over so he should leave? No chance of that happening. Besides, the mood was obviously murdered.

Ottavia didn’t protest when I stood. I slung my suit jacket over my shoulder. I had to make my way past Leo on the way out. I gave him some space, just in case he wanted to take a swing—not that I was worried about it.

He stared, tracking me as I walked past. “Who are you? You look familiar.”

“I’m Dakota.” I stuck my hand out for a handshake, because it seemed like the polite thing to do.

“Leo Lancaster,” he grumbled, but he didn’t take my hand. He merely glanced down at it, disgusted, as if I were beneath him.

To be fair, once I realized the hand I was offering him had just been stroking his girlfriend’s pussy a minute earlier, I was pretty glad he snubbed me.

“Wait a minute. I know you,” he said, a spark of revelation in his eyes. “You’re that hockey player, aren’t you? You’re the one who fucked the Sin over with his partying before Game Seven!”

“Yep … that’s me.”

He clicked his tongue. “ Wow. This just keeps getting better.”

I unlocked my condo and walked in, my feet dragging. There was no dog or cat to greet me—a furry little guy was too much commitment for me. I kept an aquarium instead. My fish, darting to the front of the glass, were glad to see me.

“At least I got you guys.” I shook out a few flakes for them and promptly proceeded to the couch, which I flopped onto, sad and defeated.

With a deep sigh, I buried my face in my hands.

That proved to be a mistake—with my hands on my face, an intoxicating scent hijacked my senses.

Ottavia lingered on my fingers, a sweet but subtly spicy musk.

Wanting more, I sniffed my hand like a damned hound—but all I managed to do was confuse the hell out of my body, with my cock stirring, but my heart crushing.

Sad boner. The worst kind of boner.

With a sigh, I gave up. I’d never felt this way about a girl before, but … I was actually a little bit, dare I say, crushed . Sure, I probably wasn’t anywhere near as crushed as Leo, but …

Crushed, yeah.

Because I really liked Ottavia. From our little Craigslist back-and-forth, to meeting her in person at the cafe, hell, even to that train wreck of a dinner—okay, not the dinner itself, but the drives to and from were really nice.

I felt like we got to know each other a little bit. And I really thought we were clicking.

But how much did I really get to know her?

Clearly, not all that much. On the way to dinner, I didn’t even find out her dad was Mr. Capuano. And on the way back to her hotel, I didn’t even find out she had a boyfriend.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I’d dodged a bullet. Yeah, it sucked that Ottavia was taken—but Mr. Capuano had warned me to stay away. And if I wanted to play in the NHL next year? Staying away from her was the smartest thing I could do.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out of my pockets. It was a text from Ottavia.

“I’m sorry, Dakota. I know that was really awkward, but I just wanted you to know that Leo is not truly my boyfriend.”

“Lol. You must think I’m an idiot if you think I’ll believe that.”

“Trust me, I don’t think that about you at all.”

“He had the key to your suite, walked right in, and acted all disappointed when he caught us. If that’s not a boyfriend, I don’t know what is.”

“I know how it looks. But my situation with Leo is … different.”

“So what are you, a swinger couple or something?”

“OMG. No way. But even if we were swingers, which we’re not, he’d still be my boyfriend.”

“Okay. I give up. If Leo isn’t your boyfriend, then what is he?”

“Well okay … he IS my boyfriend. But he’s not really, I swear.”

I replied with an eye-rolling emoji. “That makes no sense.”

She hit back with a face-palm emoji. “If you just stop and think about what I’ve already told you, you’d be able to figure it out … it’s really obvious …”

“If it was that obvious and easy to figure out, then you’d just tell me.”

“I can’t tell you, Dakota.”

“Right. All I know is, you’re in SOME kind of situation with him but don’t want to tell me what it is,” I texted back.

“Either way, it doesn’t really matter, because the truth is, for the sake of my hockey career, I shouldn’t be messing around with you in the first place.

Your dad warned me to stay away. And I think that’s probably smart. For both of us.”

“Wow. Okay. So that’s it then?”

I tried to end on a civil note. “Thanks for trying to help me today. I’m still willing to pay you the money we agreed on earlier, just let me know how I should get it to you.”

I stared and waited for a reply.

It never came.

I knew she was pissed at me, and ignoring me, but it still left me with a feeling that we had unfinished business—and with it, some small shred of hope.

I can’t see her, though, I thought, setting my phone aside. I gotta stay away.