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Page 34 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

sixteen

Andre

“ I can’t believe I fucking lost!” Oli attacks my throat, and my hands slide into his hair.

His words from the bar still wrap around my heart like barbed wire.

“I don’t like you, and you don’t like me.

” Oli doesn’t realize how wrong those words are on my end.

I’m living out a fantasy I had when I was eighteen.

Having Oli in this way is a dream come true.

I don’t tell him that, though. I don’t tell him how I still can’t believe this is real.

Instead I pull him close, so happy I don’t have to go back to my house tonight.

I’m afraid to go home and have Tripp find out where I live, if he hasn’t already.

Right now I need to put what happened at practice behind me.

I can’t fucking believe he’s here. I’ve been expecting him to show up for a while, but seeing him today jarred me.

I know why he did it that way. He wanted to catch me off guard.

Another one of his sick manipulation schemes.

Coming to my practice, though . . . what a prick.

I know he’ll be watching our next home game.

Who knows if he’s even going to leave at all.

Maybe he’s already bought a house here. I need to calm down.

I won’t let him get to me. What he wants is to get under my skin.

I can’t help it, though. The looks he gave me when no one was watching chilled me.

Thankfully he didn’t get me alone to talk to me.

I know I would have folded and done anything he wanted me to.

Time to let this gorgeous man, and his wicked mouth shut my brain off.

“Fuck, Oli,” I moan and he growls into my neck.

We’re not really doing much, he’s just kissing me here in his shower.

The water beats down around us and I just want to sink into this moment—this warmth is unmatched.

I like the roughness he gives me, but there’s something very delicate right now about the way he’s kissing me.

I love it. It’s like he knows what I need in this moment.

“So.” I grin. “What’s going to be my prize?”

He pulls back to look at me, blue eyes shining so bright. Oli is one beautiful bastard, and right now he looks like a starving animal, and I’m dangling a big old steak in front of him. “What?”

“You said if I won, I’d get a treat.” I run one of my hands down his chest. “Have I ever told you how hot you look in water? It definitely goes with your eyes.”

He smiles. It’s small, but it feels like a win. “What do you want, zayka ?” He leans in, sucking a kiss to my collarbone. Dammit! I want to know what that means. “How do you want to come? ”

My stomach heats, but also it pisses me off.

I don’t even know why. I don’t know why I’m irritated.

I know this is just sex to him. I can’t keep deluding myself into thinking that Oli may be falling for me.

Maybe I’m acting like a brat, but it’s just a reminder that’s all this is to him. It’s all we’ll ever be.

When we first met, I was instantly attracted to him.

Then I got to know him, and he became my greatest friend.

Still, I never let myself think about anything else with him.

I didn’t even entertain a what-if. Now that I’ve had him, I don’t think I can just go back, and this is only a small taste.

What would I even do with the full weight of his love?

That’s the thing, though. Oli will never love me. This is release. An outlet. A way to pass the time.

And it pisses me off. “I want . . .” I think, and while my balls are screaming for orgasms right now, I want something different.

Something I’ve never had before. Just a small taste of what it could be like if he didn’t hate me.

If he trusted me. If . . . if he loved me.

“I want you to make me a romantic dinner.”

“What?” He jerks back like I’ve slapped him. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I want to have a nice dinner. I want a date, Oli. If we’re going to do this tonight, you’re going to be at least a little nice to me first.”

He blinks, then blinks again. “Fuck you. How’s that for nice, Dre?”

Okay, teasing Oli is one of my favorite pastimes, right after sucking that monster between his legs. In that order. Oh! And pissing him off. I love pissing him off. “You are going to make us dinner, and be nice to me, or you get no ass. Got it? Romance me, Oli. Treat me so fine. ”

“Romance this dick, you prick.” He lunges for my throat again and I move out of his way, rinsing the soap from my body while trying to avoid wetting my hair. “Are you being serious!?”

“That’s the deal, Oli. That’s what I want. You’re not going to treat me like a piece of ass tonight. You’re going to treat me like I’m a person. With feelings.”

I don’t even know why I’m pushing this, but my pride won’t let him get away with it.

Oli shoves me aside, rinsing the soap off his gorgeous body.

Ugh, okay, maybe I made a mistake. I watch the way water sluices over his back and down that magnificent ass.

Okay, maybe we could—nope! I’m making him do this.

Oli finishes and gets out of the shower. His mouth is pinched. “What are you doing?”

“Give me a half hour,” he grits.

“What am I supposed to do, just stay in here!?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do as long as you stay on this floor. Don’t come downstairs or I’ll send your ass packing and you won’t be coming tonight.”

“I could just find someone else,” I dare, and oh fuck. That was the wrong thing to say. It’s like a shadow wraps itself around Oli’s gaze. He steps back into the shower, deathly calm, then cocks his head.

“I’m going to make something so, fucking, clear.” His fingers wrap around my neck, his thumb pressing hard to my Adam’s apple. I swallow against it. “No one, and I mean no one, is touching you while we’re doing this.”

God, I can’t help myself. “And if they do?”

“I wouldn’t put someone else in danger like that if I were you.

” My cock jerks between my legs. I want to give in.

I want to lean into him and redirect this fire onto me.

“If anyone else . . .” he growls. “Breathes on your skin, they won’t breathe again.

” He licks his lips, and hell, I’m fucking weak as I drag my eyes across his mouth. “Understood?”

I can’t speak so I nod. He releases me, and then walks away. I take a breath and fight the urge to go after him. I want him so bad it’s terrifying. I’ve never felt need like this. It’s like Oli is ticking all my goddamn boxes. Fuck, he’s creating boxes I didn’t even know existed. “How long?”

“Give me time. I’ll come get you.”

I smile—I can’t help it—as he slams his door, and I take my first real breath of air alone in here. I get out and towel dry. I only have my clothes from earlier but I don’t really want to wear my jeans. I step out of the bathroom and into Oli’s room.

I like how big the space is. The huge window is covered with blackout curtains, and I turn on his bedside light and sit on his king bed.

I pull one of his drawers out, smiling when I see a bottle of lube and .

. . What do we have here? Oh shit! Oh Oli, you dirty boy.

I look at the clear dildo with a smile. Imagining him using this is doing shit to me.

Has he used it? Has he used it with women?

Does he use it on himself? I keep thinking I’m the only guy, but why?

I don’t know his history, maybe I’m not the first. Anger unfurls inside me at the thought.

Why? I don’t know. I’m not possessive like this, or at least, I never have been.

Then again, I’ve never felt even a fraction of what I did for him when we were friends for anyone else.

I have too many questions.

I almost get up to go find him, but this date was my stupid idea.

I put the dildo back to find clothes .

I go through his dresser, finding a pair of sweats and pulling them on.

They fit, I knew they would, but there’s something about wearing his clothes that feels right.

I look through his dresser, finding a tank top with wide arm holes before slipping it on too.

I imagine him wearing it, filling it out, his abs on display and those gorgeous tattoos hugging his body.

There’s so many of them it’s hard to single out one, save for the tiger he showed me.

Maybe one day he’ll give me a tour of them while I trace them with my tongue.

I sit on his bed; I need to keep my mind off the toy in his drawer.

It’s a big room, and this house is nice.

Not as big as some of the players’, but it feels like a home to raise a family in.

Does Oli want kids? I feel like that’s just expected of us in this buisness.

Find a woman, start a family, show that family off at all the games.

I’ve never wanted kids; part of me doesn’t believe I’d be any good at it.

How can you raise and understand a child when you were never one yourself? I’d fuck it up. I know I would.

Ignoring my thoughts before they can go down the Tripp trauma path, I look around the room.

Feeling restless, I get up, going to the desk he has in here.

There are a couple of photos on it. One of him with Atlas and Grey on some fishing trip.

One of Oli’s mother. I only saw her a couple of times.

When Oli joined the Titans she was already sick.

I remember her, though, or at least the way she looked at her son.

I remember feeling so goddamn jealous of that.

Oli was her world, and you could tell just by watching her look at him.

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