Leveling the Field (Gamers) Page 4

  “I know what I said,” he growled into her ear as he lay over her back. “I said I’d take your breath away. Did I do that? Baby?” He punctuated the last word with a thrust of his hips.

  She swallowed and worked on breathing so she could get her voice back. “Yes. Now fuck me good, because I’m supposed to come again, right?”

  She loved his growl, loved how primal it was, how angry he got that she made him this turned on. “Oh you’ll come again.” He said it like a threat, like she wouldn’t enjoy it.

  “I’m holding you to it.” She gritted her teeth as he slammed in again, his cock long and thick enough that it was touching places inside of her that rarely got any attention.

  He began to fuck her with a rhythm she hadn’t realized he possessed—careful rolls of his hips. While one hand teased a nipple, he skimmed the other hand down to slide into her wet folds. He focused on her engorged clit, rolling it between his fingertips until she could feel the beginning of another orgasm in the base of her spine. She wasn’t sure she’d get there, but as if Ethan knew, he began to speed up his thrusts and kicked in more power behind them until he was pounding into her.

  His body blanketed her back, and his lips were at her ear. “Fuck, you feel good. You knew I wanted you from the beginning, didn’t you?”

  She couldn’t talk anymore, not while Ethan filled her to the brim, and those fingers were touching the areas on her body that were her most sensitive. “You knew, and you still flaunted that body in front of me, making me hurt. Who hurts now? Huh?”

  “Me,” she gasped out.

  “That’s right,” he hissed, then bit down on her earlobe.

  She came apart again, this orgasm leaving her a trembling, moaning mess as Ethan cursed behind her. His rhythm stuttered, his hands gripping her hips as he slammed into her one more time and roared.

  Ethan’s hands on her body were the only reason Lissa was still standing, because she wanted to crumble onto the ground in a pile of sex-sated bliss.

  The man who’d just taken her to O-town twice—as he’d promised—hadn’t moved from her body. He was still buried inside her, and as her muscles half-heartedly squeezed him, he sucked in a breath and slowly pulled out.

  Lissa closed her eyes, wanting him to leave so they didn’t have to go through awkward chitchat.

  But he didn’t move, the heat of his body still behind her.

  …

  Ethan didn’t want to leave. Well he did, but then he didn’t. Because Lissa was still here, her scent surrounding him like paradise.

  He’d set the rules. This was it. Except he wanted to do it again. Fucking her had been the first time he’d felt alive in years.

  He righted her dress, pulled the fabric down to cover the smooth, dark skin he wanted to touch again. He disposed of the condom and righted his clothes as best he could in the dim light.

  He should probably say something, apologize for fucking her in a dark closet like a cave man. The absence of light had been the reason he’d been able to be this forward, but now, he worried it made him look like he was…embarrassed to be seen with her. Which was far from the truth. She should have been embarrassed to be seen with him.

  She turned around, shimmying herself back into her dress. Her head was down and he wanted to say something, anything, which would make her know he wished he wasn’t like this. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

  Her head shot up, her pupils so large her eyes looked nearly black. Her lips parted. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry…” He gestured toward their less-than-romantic setting. “For dragging you into a closet and—”

  She held up a hand, silencing him. “You’re apologizing?”

  “Um—”

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  His mouth dropped open, and he shut it with a clack before licking his lips and trying for words. “Of course I enjoyed it. Your body is like heaven, and you smell like it, too.” How was that for honesty?

  Her head jolted, like she hadn’t expected that, then her lips slowly quirked into a smile. “I enjoyed it, too. That was hot as hell, you wanting me so badly you couldn’t wait to get me into a bed. And you’re apologizing?”

  “I wasn’t sure—”

  “You made it clear you wanted to fuck. And I agreed. So don’t treat me like I’m some fragile thing who needs rose petals and cuddling now, okay?”

  She was perfect. Every fucking inch of her, from those expressive eyes to the words that came out from between her lips. “Your mouth turns me on.”

  He’d lost a filter sometime in the last couple of years. Her eyebrows shot up and then she threw back her head and laughed, the sound like waves crashing and sun shining and everything happy. For a moment he forgot they were stuffed in a coat closet that smelled like sex. There was only her, and that laugh, and paradise.

  When she lowered her gaze, her breath caught a moment as she studied his face.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He touched his cheek, heat creeping up his neck. Was she going to ask about his scars? Because—

  “You’re smiling.” Her voice was soft.

  His hand traveled over his skin to touch his lips, and to his surprise, he was smiling. A real smile that he hadn’t had to think about. When was the last time that had happened?

  Lissa dug into the folds of her dress where she pulled a card from a hidden pocket he hadn’t realized was there. She stared at it for a minute then took a deep breath before handing it to him. “Here.”

  He took the card and peered down at it, but he couldn’t make out all the words in the dim light. “What’s this?”

  She smoothed her dress down. “My business card. If you ever want to fuck in a coat closet or a bed or desk or whatever, and maybe if you want to flash me that handsome smile again, give me a call. Cell phone number is on the back.”

  She brushed past him, their shoulders touching for an instant. He was still staring at the card when she called his name. He turned around to where she stood in the open doorway, the light from the hallway backlighting her hourglass figure. “Ethan?”

  “Yes.” His voice was hoarse.

  Her eyes flashed. “I’ll wear a shorter dress next time.”

  And then she was gone in a swirl of fabric.

  Chapter Five

  With her hands full of wine bottles and a cheese plate, Lissa kicked the door to her parents’ house and waited impatiently. When the door didn’t immediately open, she started yelling, too.

  Her mother flung open the door when Lissa was mid-holler and glared. “Will you stop the racket, Lis? Goodness gracious. The neighbors are probably looking out their windows.” She made a face at the house across the street. “The curtain moved. You know Old Man Grandy is tut-tutting about my loud children.”

  As the middle child growing up, Lissa had to be extra loud to get attention. That trait hadn’t quite worn off yet. She assumed it never would. She smacked a kiss on her mom’s cheek. “Who cares what Old Man Grandy thinks?”

  Her mom huffed but wrapped Lissa in a hug, jabbing one of the bottles into her ribs. “Okay, maybe not so tight on the hug.”

  Her mom leaned back and patted her face. “You look beautiful as always.”

  “Good genes, I guess.” Lissa handed her mom the wine and then followed her into the kitchen. The greatest compliment she could ever get was when people said she looked like her mother. Ariel Kingsman was a stunning woman. Mahogany skin and big brown eyes. High cheekbones that rivaled Iman’s.

  Her younger brother, Angel, was already in the kitchen, drinking a beer with their father. Lissa kissed them both then set the cheese plate on the counter. She and Angel were born less than a year apart, so they’d always been close, the two troublemakers who’d had a safety net consisting of their parents and Rona. There was an irreparable hole in that safety net now, leaving her and Angel to cling to each other even more. They even shared an apartment.

  Her mother interrupted her thoughts by holding out a glass of wine.
Dinner was their regular Sunday routine. Sometimes one or more of them had to miss a meal, but they tried to make every Sunday they could.

  This house would always be home to Lissa. There was the living room where she’d played video games with Angel, the kitchen where she’d baked cookies with Rona, and the bedroom where she’d lie awake at night, dreaming about being a famous wildlife photographer. At least she’d gotten one half of that dream. Although attempting to photograph Ethan Talley was a little like dealing with a pissed-off lion.

  Stop thinking about him and that damn coat closet.

  She plastered on a smile and took the wine glass from her mom, who shot her a look. Lissa turned away quickly before her mom saw her fake smile and called her on it.

  “What’s going on?”

  Oh shit, too late. Moms.

  Lissa took a gulp of her wine and turned back around to see all three family members staring at her. “What?”

  Angel cocked his head. “You kinda went somewhere for a minute.”

  “Yeah, I did. In my own head.”

  “Wanna share?”

  “No, I do not. It’s nice and private in there.” She huffed. “We live together, and you never knock on my bedroom door. I’m not letting you in my head, too.”

  Angel opened his mouth to backtalk, she was sure, but Lissa’s mother interrupted. “Enough. Both of you. How you live together is a mystery to me.”

  “We grew up together. We’re related. Brother and sister.” Angel took a sip of his beer then grinned innocently.

  His mom smacked him. “All of you, leave. I need to finish getting dinner ready.”

  “Need help?” Lissa asked.

  Her mom answered her by shooing her out of the kitchen.

  Lissa, Angel, and their father retreated to the living room, where they watched baseball and devoured the cheese tray.

  Her father watched her over the rim of his glasses. Carl Kingsman was a serious man, in sharp contrast to their loud, gregarious mother. And after Rona’s death, he smiled even less. The absence of laugh lines around his mouth hurt Lissa’s heart.

  “Have you formed the committee to review the scholarship applications?”

  That was her dad. He worried about the details. While Lissa had her head in the clouds, daydreaming about the photos and the project, her father kept her on task regarding the business side of her project. “Yeah, some of Lissa’s grad school friends, as well as some professors from her alma mater.”

  Her father nodded. “Good. Rona would be pleased.”

  Lissa picked at a rip in her jeans. She hoped so. Growing up as a black American, it’d been evident to them from the very beginning that they had to work extra hard to have less than what someone with lighter skin would have. Rona had been determined to be the best lawyer she could be, to fight for those who didn’t have anyone else fighting for them. She was proud of her skin, her heritage, and everything that she’d worked for.

  After talking with her family, Lissa decided supporting young women like Rona, with the same ambitions, would be the best way to honor her sister. She wanted Rona to be remembered for how she’d lived, not how she’d died.

  But no matter how hard she tried, it was nearly impossible to sum up Rona’s life. Lissa couldn’t show everyone the red stain on her bedroom carpet, where they’d spilled nail polish at night when they were supposed to be sleeping. She couldn’t point to the corner of the basement, where Rona would model dress-up clothes, and Lissa found her love of photography by taking pictures of her. She couldn’t recreate Rona’s laugh—which was sometimes hyena-like.

  So this project was the only way she knew how, and it’d been her sole focus during the last year.

  Lissa looked up when her father spoke again, but this time, his attention was on Angel. “And how’s work?”

  Angel was a manager at the Foot Locker in the mall, which was great, since he never wore the same shoes twice. He said he loved retail, but Lissa knew he had dreams of opening up his own restaurant. He tried to say cooking was just a hobby, but Lissa wasn’t buying it.

  Angel picked at his beer label. “Good. I hired a new assistant, and she’s working out really well. In fact”—he grinned—“I think she might take my job if I’m not careful. Gotta step up my game.”

  Their father looked like he was going to ask more questions, but then he just nodded. “Well then, step it up.”

  Angel looked at Lissa and rounded his lips into an O, wiping imaginary sweat off of his face. She held back a smile.

  Lissa leaned back, enjoying the comfortable silence that could only be achieved around family, and sipped her wine.

  She hadn’t told Angel yet about Ethan, even though she’d been so tempted. But it all seemed like a dream now, what happened at the wedding. She knew he’d never call again, not surly Ethan.

  But that didn’t stop her from wondering about his story. There was a huge gap in his life, where he went from E-Rad to Ethan Talley, and not only was she curious, but she also couldn’t stop thinking about the way he kissed her.

  She was so distracted that she looked up to see her entire family staring at her. Again. “Oh jeez, what now?” she asked.

  “I’ve been saying your name for a good thirty seconds to tell you dinner is ready.” Her mom cocked out a hip. “Can we interrupt your daydream?”

  She pursed her lips and stood up in a huff. “Busybody family members,” she muttered under her breath as she walked by them.

  “We heard that!” Angel called after her.

  Lissa finished off her wine before setting the empty glass on the table. She really needed to get her head together, focus on her project, and forget about Ethan E-Rad Talley.

  …

  Ethan blinked at the kid—he refused to call this person a man—and waited for the next ridiculous thing to come out of his mouth.

  As soon as Alex Hershel walked into his office, he knew this wasn’t the man they wanted as the face of Gamers. He snapped his gum repeatedly, and his clothes were sloppy, styled in a way that was clearly on purpose and which Ethan felt was unprofessional.

  The guy hadn’t dropped the cocky grin, either. Ethan wasn’t legally allowed to ask how old he was in a job interview, but he would place Alex somewhere around twenty-three. Maybe.

  And everyone knew a man’s brain didn’t reach adulthood until twenty-five. Ethan had ruined his life before he hit twenty-five. He should know.

  He stared down at the kid’s resume, which used some funky font and colors, for God’s sake. He wanted to explain that Times New Roman was classic, not old-fashioned.

  “So.” Alex cracked his gum, which was an unnatural yellow color. “What do you think?”

  Ethan gazed at him levelly. “I think no.”

  The kid’s expression faltered for the first time in a half hour. “What?”

  “I’m sorry.” Ethan handed him his resume. “But you’re not what we’re looking for.”

  Alex stared at his resume then at Ethan. “Really?”

  Ethan flared his nostrils and counted to five so he wouldn’t blow his lid. “Yes, really.”

  “Huh.” Alex reached out and took his resume, then stared at it as if it held the answer to his future. “Have any advice for me for future interviews?”

  Didn’t they mentor kids these days anymore? “Yes, next time, wear a suit, get rid of the gum, and apply for a job you’re qualified for.”

  A low whistle made them both look up. Grant leaned on the doorframe of Ethan’s office, his hands in his pockets. “Way harsh, Talley.”

  Alex just stared at him, and Ethan snorted softly. Clueless was probably released before this guy was born.

  Grant sauntered forward after shooting a glare at Ethan. “Excuse my partner here. He’s a little grumpy today. Just like every day. I’m Grant Osprey.”

  Alex shifted his gaze to Ethan and then back to Grant like he was the second coming. “Alex Hershel.”

  “He was just leaving,” Ethan prodded.

  G
rant took Alex’s résumé out of his hands and smiled at him. “I’ll take a look at this, and we’ll call you if we want to speak to you further.”

  “Don’t give him false hope, Grant,” Ethan said.

  His friend widened his eyes at him. “Can you cool it?”

  Ethan pressed his lips together.

  Alex’s gaze was ping-ponging between the two of him, and he was half sitting, half standing in his chair, like he didn’t know whether to stay or go. Ethan was done with this interview, with the day, with the whole fucking week. Grant must have sensed his frustration was reaching a boiling point, because he led Alex out of the office and shook his hand at the door, sending him on his way.

  Ethan bent forward until his forehead rested on the smooth wood of his desk. He breathed out, and stayed that way until the squeak of the leather chair across from him and a throat clearing let him know Grant was still there.

  “You all right?”

  Ethan lifted his head and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah.”

  “You look stressed.”

  “I am stressed. We want to get a decision made on the host for our channel, and no one I’ve had in here is fit for the job. The closest we had was that former gaming champ, but she’s not interested anymore.”

  Grant was silent.

  “Why aren’t you saying words?” Ethan frowned. “You’re always talking. That’s what you do.”

  “What’s with you lately?” Grant asked. “You’ve been like this since Austin’s wedding.”

  Great, now they were analyzing him. “You said I’m always grumpy, so what’s the difference?”

  Grant shook his head. “Sure, you’re usually grumpy, but in an…expressionless way. Now it’s like all of a sudden you’re frustrated and stressed and actually pissed off about something.”

  Ethan scowled. “I am not pissed off.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows.

  This was getting old. “This conversation is over.”

  Grant sighed. “Look, you want to know what I think about this whole host search?”

  Ethan threw up his hands. “Yes, I’d love to know. We’re partners in this, so—”