Page 22 of Twisted Play (Cruel Games #1)
COLE
My father’s words from that morning rang in my ears as I laced up my skates.
“When are you going to be over this phase? You’re betraying everything I’ve worked for. Worthless.”
“Come work for me instead of wasting time on that stupid, classless hobby. Before you become entirely useless to the family and our legacy.”
As if playing a pro-sport wasn’t worth anything. As if having an income outside of the allowance I got because I couldn’t access my trust fund yet was something to be ashamed of.
“Come home, son. Your mother misses you.”
That was a lie. My mother hadn’t cared about me since she finished nursing me and handed me off to a nanny. She sure as fuck hadn’t spoken to me outside of required visits home for years.
It’d been a long time since I’d stopped wondering if she had always been like that or become that way because she was stuck in an abusive marriage with my father.
He didn’t lay a hand on her—he didn’t have to. She didn’t have a fucking penny of her own, and the moment she stepped out of the rigid box he’d drawn for her, she’d lose everything.
At some point, long before I was born, she stopped trying. Dad’s money came with strings attached. Fuck that.
Tristan threw an arm over my shoulder as I clomped toward the rink, but instead of following me onto center ice like I expected, he skated up to the bench area and joined my sparrow.
I stopped behind Tristan to see how this would play out.
He’d done nothing but talk about her since they made out in the library—since he made her come in the library, more than once. I shouldn’t have been jealous. I knew he had a crush on her, and he’d made his move.
Despite Coach’s warnings to the contrary, Tristan was a goner for Eva.
Christ, my dick was getting hard again just thinking about the two of them, together, getting off in public—no, getting off while I watched—no, getting off while I told them what to do—no, not getting off at all, as I made them edge each other until they begged me to let them come.
I wanted to watch her squirm as he palmed her tits under her shirt, worried someone would notice.
I wanted her to blush that adorable pink all the way down to her nipples when she realized I was watching, clenching around his fingers as I rumbled orders in his ear, telling him exactly how to please her.
The cute little moans she’d make. Her surprise when I told her to reach into his sweatpants and pull out his cock.
Their shock when the tidal wave of pleasure overtook them and they came together in public, embarrassed and humiliated and breathing hard from the pleasure.
Fuck. My hard-on grew painful in my gear .
“Kiss,” Tristan demanded. He’d clearly made his decision about whether Eva was worth the distraction.
She looked at him unblinkingly. “I said I don’t date.”
“I’m not asking you to date me. I’m demanding a kiss,” he said.
“Go ahead, sparrow. Give him a kiss,” I rasped, leaning my hip against the wall separating us from the ice.
We only had a few more minutes before Coach and other staff arrived.
I tangled my fingers in her long red hair and tugged sharply enough that she gasped, a hint of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
What kind of psychopath was I that seeing her cry turned me on? Fuck. Fuck!
Tristan gave me a long, thoughtful look before turning his gaze back to her. “Kitten,” he murmured, and I tightened my grip.
Her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, pink and adorable and absolutely fucking hot.
She tried to lean forward to meet Tristan’s lips, but my grip in her hair was too tight. And then, she fucking squirmed. This turned her on. She liked the pain—or she liked being forced to do this. Oh fuck. The possibilities whirred through my mind, and a cruel smile lifted one side of my mouth.
Tristan’s eyes snapped to mine, the whiskey gold like fucking fire as he bent down to brush his lips against hers.
“Do you like this, kitten?” he asked her, his unsteady voice giving away how turned on he was.
“Like what?”
“My best friend holding you still so I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.”
Her soft gasp revealed everything I needed to know. Fuck yes, she liked it, even if she couldn’t admit it.
Tristan brushed his lips over hers again. She sat there, her breathing ragged, her lips parted, just waiting for him to kiss her again.
Instead, he straightened. I released her hair, and we both stepped back. Eva leaned forward, as if to follow the path of Tristan’s lips. She couldn’t have known how much she was giving away with that movement.
“But you don’t date,” he said.
It took her a few seconds, but she recovered herself and took a shuddering breath. “I don’t.”
“Fine,” Tristan snapped.
“Fine,” she whispered. I tugged a lock of her hair one last time then quickly leapt onto the ice before Coach caught us fucking around with one of his employees.
“What’s up with you and Eva?” Tristan asked me as we stretched.
“What’s up with you and Eva?” I asked right back.
Tristan sighed, his expression unreadable. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Me either,” I muttered, scheming as I caught a puck from Elijah, our student equipment manager.
“I like her a lot,” he continued.
Eva was too fucking good for me. Too fucking innocent. Too fucking everything that wasn’t me. Tristan, the optimistic, charming asshole, was right for her. And she was right for him.
I’d only corrupt them both, and as hot as that thought was, they both deserved better.
Instead of continuing the conversation, I stood and began a slow skate around the rink to warm up my muscles.
“Cole!” Tristan shouted, attracting the attention of everyone in the rink.
I spun around to give him two middle fingers, only to find him already doing the same to me, a wild grin on his face.
That was why I loved him. He never stayed mad. He never held my grumpiness against me or let me descend so far into my misery that he couldn’t pull me out.
And that’s why I had to stay the fuck away.
From both of them.