He pressed her body back against the door, and she met his gaze with a determined one of her own.

“Clandestine,” she murmured in a tone that made it seem as if she were unimpressed.

“You said I was in trouble,” he prompted.

With her words, blood was already pumping to all the right places. Fuck, she turned him on. The chase, the rendezvous, the game.

His hands slipped down her black dress, slinky and sophisticated, and he knew it cost a fortune. Everything that Andrea liked did. Instead of going for her lips, he nuzzled her neck, making her arch against him, and then he trailed rough kisses over the territory he was claiming.

“Yes,” she said, trying to seem unaffected, “you came to ruin my fun, and then you didn’t even make a move. Clay Maxwell, whatever has gotten into you?”

“You’re too hasty.” He nipped at her neck, and she squeaked. Oh, how he loved that sound. “I was assessing the situation and determining when to go in for the kill.”

He forcefully grabbed her leg and pulled it up around his waist. Her dress slid past her upper thigh, nearly revealing what was underneath. He slipped his hand under the material and realized with satisfaction that there was nothing underneath.

“Oh, dirty,” he growled playfully. “You were ready for me.”

“I was, but you’re too slow. I’m planning to leave with him.”

“Like hell you are!” Clay barked out.

“What? You can have your fun for the night, but I can’t?” Her eyes issued a challenge.

“I haven’t had any yet,” he growled, “but I will now.”

Clay’s hand slipped back under her dress until he found her pussy, hot and aching for him. She enjoyed this as much as he did, and he’d remind her exactly how much. He wanted to just take her against the door, but he’d rather she beg him for it later.

Without a second thought, he slipped his finger between her lips and trailed it through her wetness before massaging her clit. He had perfect access from this angle, and the only way it would be better was if he could bury his face in between her legs and feel her come all over him. She’d definitely beg then.

“Mmm,” she purred, grinding against his hand.

Abruptly, he removed his finger from her clit and pushed two fingers up inside her. She was dripping wet, and he coated his thumb before circling her clit and finger-fucking her hard. It’d be so much better when he got his cock up inside her, but for now, this would do. His dick was as hard as a rock, and it was practically painful as he watched her eyes roll back into her head while her pleasure mounted.

“You’re not playing fair,” she groaned.

“Only way I know how.”

“Oh, please, make me come.” She looked at him, her eyes hooded. “If you can.”

Motherfucking challenge accepted.

She knew what he was capable of, but he reveled in showing her just how much pleasure she could get from just his fingers. He knew how to ply her body to his command. She writhed underneath him, barely holding on. He’d seen that look for ten years now. He shoved against her, reminding her exactly what she would get, if only she begged. Her fingers brushed against his erection through his suit pants, and all he wanted was for her to take it out.

Then, she let out one final moan and came all over his fingers, leaving him slippery wet and dying to get his cock into her pussy.

She huffed as she tried to regain her composure. He let her leg drop and used a nearby paper towel to mop up his hand.

She was still leaning back against the door, staring at him. “I like the bow tie.”

“I know.” He grinned, revealing his dimples.

“You always know just what I like.”

“How about we go home, and I’ll show you exactly what you like?” He leaned in close and growled low in her ear, “Fuck you at my leisure, make you come at my command. Or do you want to be spanked tonight, baby? Or more?”

Her breathing was heavy when he pulled back and looked into her dilated baby blues. “Oh, Clay…” She patted him twice on the cheek. “Maybe another time.”

“What?” he demanded.

“You lost tonight. Game over.”

She turned to go, and he slammed his hand back on the door. Someone banged on it from the outside and yelled at them to hurry the fuck up.

“What the fuck?”

Andrea softened but only slightly. “I don’t want to be seconds tonight, baby.”

Then, she strode out of the restroom, leaving him alone, wondering how the hell that had just happened.

Chapter 3


This wasn’t how their little game was supposed to end.

It never ended this way.

He hadn’t waited that much longer than usual to approach her. After they’d talked, then they would go back and fuck the night away. He wasn’t sure if either of them had ever refused before. It was against the rules.

Whenever she played, he always left the girl he had been talking to for a night with Andrea. There wasn’t a girl alive that he’d trade the game for. Well, maybe one, but since she was about to marry his brother, it didn’t count.

Andrea could be a bitch to everyone, but then again, he was a total ass. That was how they worked. This was where they made sense.

Under the fury that was simmering to the surface though was confusion. Why would she choose Bad Suit over me? He’d understand if she hadn’t invited him to play, but this was different. She had made him leave his own game for hers and then turned him down.

Clay tried to clear his head, but anger just hit him stronger. He returned to his barstool with single-minded determination. When he made it back, Andrea and Bad Suit were already gone, which only pissed him off more. He hadn’t even gotten to confront the douche. Jackass was going to get to enjoy all of Clay’s hard work. Think he’d gotten Andrea soaking wet and caused the tremors between her legs.


“You’re back,” Gigi said when he finally returned.

“Yeah. Got held up.”

But a guy was sitting in his seat. He was average height with moppy dark hair and a beard. He was pasty pale in his purple V-neck shirt and skinny jeans, which frankly proved that the guy had a small dick.

“Who’s this, Gi?” the guy asked possessively.