Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2) Page 8

  “Until he doesn’t,” Julie said.

  That was where things fell apart with Dante’s marriage. Guilt twinged inside Christopher. It hadn’t been the only time he and Dante hooked up with a third person, but it was the first. Dante and his then-wife brought Christopher into things because they wanted to experiment. The situation crumbled when Dante asked Christopher to stay with them—he never wanted to push his ex out—and she wasn’t willing to share. “That’s why Dante and I never do this when there’s an emotional attachment. Hypothetically speaking, if you were interested, it’d just be sex and a lesson in letting go.”

  Julie’s sigh hissed between her fingers when she scrubbed her face. She stood. “Hypothetically speaking? I’m not interested. I need to get back to the bakery. Are you ready to leave, or should I call someone?”

  “We can go now.” Christopher should be grateful things ended this way. As in, before they started. It didn’t make it any easier for him to ignore the disappointment sliding through him.

  *

  Julie couldn’t get the conversation with Christopher and Dante out of her head, as they pulled into the back parking lot of the bakery. That, combined with the lingering stress of the break-in and her to-do list, made it difficult to sit still.

  She barely waited for the car to stop, before she hopped out and strode toward the main area of the shop. When she saw the plywood covering the windows, her feet froze to the floor. She was vaguely aware the broken glass was gone from the floor and everything else looked clean except for the wallpaper. She recognized the artwork on the temporary window covers. It was Andi’s painting—the same vivid designs she used on the cookies. Andi had painted the setup so it hid the fact it was patch-worked in place.

  She sat at one of the plastic-covered tables, paint in front of her, and she was grinning. “Do you like it?”

  “I thought you were going to get a couple more hours’ sleep.” Julie winced as the words passed her lips.

  “You’re not the only one who couldn’t go back to bed.”

  While Julie was all but held captive and told to calm down, Andi was here doing her own thing. Julie struggled to make sense of her feelings. She was being irrational. “You could have checked with me first.” What the fuck was wrong with her? Did Christopher’s suggestion screw with her head that much?

  “You’re welcome,” Andi said flatly.

  “I’m sorry. This is coming out wrong.” That was better. Julie needed to do a lot more, to make things right, though. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

  Andi shook her head. “You’re spending a lot of time taking things back these days.”

  “It’s been a long few months.”

  “For all of us. You and I are in this together. You don’t have to take so much on yourself. I’m here to help.”

  “I know.” Julie hated the clawing inside.

  Andi studied her. “Do you? Because I wonder more and more if that’s what you tell me to keep me happy. If so, it’s not working.”

  “You’re not happy?” The notion hurt, digging into Julie’s senses.

  “I am. But you’re miserable. I don’t want that. This is our dream, and we should both be enjoying it. Let me help.”

  “I will. I’m trying.”

  Andi stood and took Julie’s hands between hers. “Try harder?” Pleading leaked into Andi’s words. “If you keep going like this, something is going to break. I’d hate for it to be our friendship, but I’d hate it more if it was you.”

  “Me too.” Julie squeezed her hand.

  The truce didn’t put Julie at ease, the way she wanted. Today was the day they were supposed to film people enjoying samples of the cookies. Between her and Dante, they worked out a plan. Clean-up crews would be in-shop at specific times of the day. Depending on the schedule, sample lines would be shut down and moved from inside to out, or to a side room, or wherever was needed in order for everything to be accomplished without food-service violations in the process.

  The idea seemed simple on paper. Execution was a logistics nightmare. For the first shift, when they had to move people from the lobby to outside, they shut things down half an hour before the clock was up, and told visitors anyone in line would be helped. The rest would have to come back.

  There were some grumbles, but overall people took the news all right. That didn’t stop things from running over by forty-five minutes, leaving the window installers waiting and impatient.

  Julie’s mind darted from one task to the next, revolting with each missed step. Nothing was going right, and she couldn’t pull her head on straight enough, to fix any of it.

  Underneath the stress of work, the morning’s conversations taunted her. This was going to devour her sanity if she didn’t learn how to cope. Was Christopher serious about teaching her to let go? Did she care? A hot, no-strings tumble would be an enjoyable way to relieve the stress, even if it didn’t come with a long-term solution. And—hell—Christopher was a gorgeous specimen.

  “Jules, hey.” A familiar voice drilled through her stress.

  She wasn’t sure why she recognized it until she spun and saw Luke standing on the sidewalk a few feet away. It had been a long time since she heard him in person. “What’s up?” She couldn’t keep the strain from her voice.

  “I didn’t realize this was where the new shop was. I was out running a couple of errands and saw the line out front. Pretty impressive.” He closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, and gave her a tight hug. He kissed her on the cheek before releasing her.

  She resisted the urge to cast a glance around and make sure no one she knew was looking. That was a silly reaction. Why did she care who saw her hugging whom? She wasn’t in the mood to chat, though. “Thanks. We’re pretty busy today.”

  “I see that. Holy shit, what happened to your windows?”

  She spun at his exclamation, though she already knew the answer. “Vandalism. I’m told it comes with the territory.”

  “That’s awful.” He rubbed her arm. “You weren’t home at the time?”

  Something about his wording struck her as off, but her mind was in too many places to decipher what. “I don’t live at the office, thankfully.” She laughed. Technically that wasn’t true, but hesitation stopped her from giving him more information. “I hate to be a pest. It’s great to see you, but I need to get back to the crowds.”

  “Totally. Do you have a public restroom I could use while I’m here?”

  She nodded in the appropriate direction. “With any luck, there’s not a line.”

  “Thanks.” He squeezed her fingers. “Catch you around.”

  The encounter faded to the back of her thoughts as Julie threw herself back into Sample Day. When noon rolled around, she didn’t know if she wanted to scream or curl up in a corner and cry. She needed to do something. Like find Christopher.

  There were only so many rooms in the place, so it didn’t take much searching before she found him near the back door, looking at the camera.

  “Can I talk to you?” She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but the alternatives—not only breaking herself and her relationship with Andi, but also being stuck with the eternal question of what if—weighed too heavily on her exhaustion.

  He followed her to a quiet corner of the building, away from any of his cameras. She almost smiled at that. He leaned against the wall, putting as much distance between them as was possible in the narrow hallway. “What’s up?”

  He seemed to have taken her no thanks seriously this morning. She shouldn’t have been so hasty. “The conversation we had. Don’t ask which one, because I swear, if I’m the only one who can’t stop thinking about it—”

  “You’re not.”

  And here was the directness she appreciated in Christopher—a huge part of the reason she was considering this. “Realistically speaking, as opposed to hypothetically, did you mean what you said? I could learn to maybe subdue the control-freak in me? Or is that some elaborate pickup line the two of you use?”

  “The pickup line is a lot less convoluted. The idea—finding a safe thing to let go, that still terrifies you—is real. I won’t lie and say there’s nothing in it for me.”

  Heat spread across her skin before her brain finished processing his meaning. She had to ask anyway. “What’s that?”

  “You.” He flashed her one of those drop-dead-sexy smiles that had her considering his suggestion in the first place. “You were set against hearing us out this morning.”

  She raked her fingers through her hair and studied the ceiling for answers it didn’t hold. “There are probably other options, though when I’m this tired, none of them are nearly as appealing.” She snapped her jaw shut. Did I really say that? The fact Christopher’s smile grew confirmed that yes, she did, and it probably wasn’t an issue. “I’ve known Andi for as long as I can remember, and I can’t push her away. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I haven’t slept solidly in weeks, and yeah, we’re all working long hours, but I have a feeling it may be having a little teensy tiny bit of an impact on me. In other words, I need help, and I like the sound of your solution. Outside of the parts that terrify me.”

  “If we go down this path, you have to do what I tell you. It defeats the purpose otherwise.”

  Her pulse roared, and she swallowed. “I figured.”

  “And this is a three-person arrangement.”

  Meaning, Dante was part of whatever Christopher had in mind. She should hate that, but she didn’t. That fucked with her head on a whole new level. “Your rules.”

  “I have to get back to the security feed.” He kicked away from the wall. “But my answer is yes, if yours is too. I’ll get back to you.”

  Julie tried to dive back into work, but the two conversations with Christopher overlapped in her head, muffling everything else. Was she making the right decision? How long did she have to change her mind, and would she hate herself if she backed out?

  The next couple of hours passed in a blur, as the world pulled her in a million directions at once. She started when someone pressed against her back.

  “It’s me.” Christopher’s hot breath caressed her cheek. “We’re taking the night off, in anticipation of a heavy schedule coming up.”

  “Okay?” She was having a tough time thinking, with his chest holding her upright.

  It felt like he slipped something in her back pocket. “We’re wrapping up at four. That’s a motel key, address, and room number. Be there at six.” His voice was low enough only she would hear, but the strong current running through it danced over her skin. “Once you’re in the room, you’ll see what to do next.”

  Any answer froze in her throat. Last chance to change her mind.

  “Do you object?” he asked.

  Did she? She hated this indecision.

  “You have the power at any point to say stop. Now. Three hours down the line. Though keep in mind that, if it’s not terrifying, it defeats the purpose. Are you in?”

  She nodded, unable to find her voice.

  “I’m glad.” His weight vanished, and she stumbled back a step before catching herself.

  Please don’t let this be a massive mistake.

  Chapter Eleven

  Julie swore every eye was on her, as she walked through the hotel lobby and toward the elevators. Her heart hammered so hard, she was surprised it didn’t pull an Alien and leap from her chest. With each footstep, she told herself to calm down. Herself wasn’t having any of that.

  She reached the room, used the keycard, and pushed inside with a tentative, “Hello?” A lamp near the bed was on, but there was no one in the room. She clenched her fist, to stem the surge of uncertainty. She wanted to think this was a joke after all, but none of her believed that was the case.

  She moved farther inside, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. In the middle of the comforter, on top of the mattress, there was a black scarf and a piece of paper with a note scrawled in neat printed letters.

  Take your clothes off. All of them. Kneel in the middle of the bed and put the blindfold on.

  Her pulse threatened to rip free of her veins. This was a bad idea. She should leave. But mingled with the uncertainty and fear was an intense ache of desire from every sensitive region of her body, amplified by throbbing curiosity.

  She did as the letter instructed. Cool air kissed the dampness between her thighs and slid like silk over her nipples. It took the last of her reason to keep her hands from shaking as she took a spot on the bed and tied the blindfold in place.

  She dug her fingers into her palms and rested them on her upper legs, straining her ears for any sound out of the ordinary. The climate control hummed a discordant tune with the ringing in her ears. Voices from the hallway drifted closer, cranking up her heartbeat, then floated away again, leaving her with a misplaced rush of adrenaline that had no outlet. Were those footsteps, outside?

  The lock whirred, the hinges creaked, and seconds later the door latched shut again. Then nothing.

  “Hello?” She had to say something. The alternative was screaming.

  Silence replied. She squeezed her knuckles tighter, to keep from ripping off the scarf. Was that the shuffle of feet on carpet? If the point of this was to yank her comfort zone and terrify her, mission accomplished. She could go home now. Except she wanted to see this through. She wasn’t sure if it was because of stubbornness or the sparks of lightning filling her and begging to find out what came next.

  “Christ, you’re gorgeous.” Christopher’s voice came from immediately next to her.

  She let out a quiet yelp and heard a chair creak. It didn’t come from the same direction as where she placed Christopher. He did say Dante would be joining them.

  The mattress shifted with the weight of another person. “Are you certain about this?” Christopher asked.

  “No. I can’t think of any time in my life I’ve been more scared.” It wasn’t fear of danger—simply the unknown. “I trust you, though. Do your worst.”

  “Worst isn’t the point. Best is. And so you’re aware, we’re not alone, but Dante is only watching, not participating.” Christopher settled a hand on her chest, between her breasts. His palm was fire against her air-cooled skin.

  It was true she agreed to this, but it was different in practice. “Does he get off on seeing me helpless?” When she tried to force a laugh into her question, it fell flat.

  “Exactly the opposite. He’s turned on by the fact you’re strong enough to do this.” Christopher’s voice was firm but soothing. It was a startling contrast. “Your heart is racing. You need to calm down.”

  Easier said than done. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any advice for that.”

  “I do. Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you’re helpless. Focus on my voice. My touch.” He dragged his thumb along her ribs. A tchnk sound filled the room, like a lighter, and a moment later, the faint scent of vanilla reached her nose “The smells.”

  As she listened to him speak and followed the prompts, her thoughts drifted back toward a central location, and she could draw deep breaths without over thinking it.

  “Are you doing better?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He moved his hand to her back, between her shoulder blades. “Lie down.” He helped her shift position, and a pillow waited as she reclined. He trailed his hands along her arms, lifting them above her head in the process.

  Something that felt suspiciously like the same fabric as her blindfold wrapped around her wrists, and as she tugged, she realized he’d restrained her to something. But what? She should have paid closer attention to the room when she came in. Her panic rose again. “You dive right in, don’t you?” She tried to chuckle. “No taking it slow.”

  “As I said earlier, it’s about the immersion. If it helps you feel any better, this is starting slowly.”

  It didn’t.

  He trailed a finger along her neck, down her chest, and over her arms. The feather-light touch continued along her upper thighs, then back to her stomach. Some of it tickled, but for the most part, she squirmed in anticipation. She squeezed her legs together, to fight off the throb of need, but that intensified it.

  “Are you still sure about this?” Christopher asked.

  “Yes.”

  He brushed his lips along the outside edge of her ear. “Good.”

  And then everything fell away except the background. She strained to hear his soothing voice, and her nerve endings begged for his gentle touch again. It was strange how having her sight removed seemed to elongate time. What seemed like an eternity of lying there with no input was probably only a minute or two.

  When a thumb brushed over her nipple, she arched her back with a gasp of surprise, pushing into the touch. She wanted more. A pinch. A squeeze. Her delicious tormentor didn’t seem to have that in mind. He glided his finger in lazy lines over her breasts, then caressed the inside of her thighs. She wanted to beg him to move higher. To seek out her sex and give her at least a little release. Her curiosity to see where this was going barely beat back desire.

  “Dante is watching.” Christopher’s voice was almost as intoxicating as his caress. Another link to the world she couldn’t see. “Rock hard. Slowly stroking his cock.”

  Fresh intensity washed over her at the notion of being on display. When a new texture met her skin, a tongue flicking over her nipples, her thoughts skittered to the dark corners of her mind, leaving a space for pleasure to rush in. His faint aftershave intertwined with the vanilla scent in the room, drawing her remaining four senses to a new height.

  The licking started soft, like his touches, but grew into something more intense. The scrape of a day’s worth of stubble on her tender skin. Sucking. The nip of his teeth. The bite of pain. Her hips rocked against empty air without her permission, her body seeking release. God, that felt good.

  She didn’t know how long the attention continued for, but it was enough to fill her head with clouds and push her to the edge of something just out of her reach. It didn’t matter which way she shifted her weight; Christopher’s touch was steady and tantalizingly relentless.

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