Playing with Fire

by Abby Gordon

  Table of Contents

  Playing with Fire

  Publication Page

  Dedication

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Also Read

  Thank You

  Playing with Fire

  by

  Abby Gordon

  Interstellar Matchmaker

  Book Two

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Playing with Fire

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Abby Gordon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2016

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1150-0

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To those willing to take a “chance”

  and listen to their hearts

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Abby Gordon

  UNLEASHED

  “I loved this script. I had a hard time putting it down. I cannot wait for the next one in this series to come out.”

  ~Pre-Review

  TO SEDUCE AND SATISFY

  “If you like an enjoyable erotic romance, get your hands on To Seduce and Satisfy and enjoy the ride. There is a lot of heart within the story.”

  ~Manic Readers

  MASTER’S CHOICE

  “The chemistry between JW and Ally is scorching hot. The sex scenes were searing. Ally and JW connected in a way neither could with anyone else.”

  ~Night Owl Review

  Chapter One

  When the lamp next to her flashed, Bessie blinked and jumped. She gave herself a quick mental shake before refocusing on the conversation.

  “…and then I asked him if he thought being eighty meant he could go eighty!”

  Her back to the flower-filled fireplace, Bessie smiled politely while the district attorney, mayor, and banker roared with laughter. Dear God, how long until she could leave this party? Considering the guests of honor hadn’t arrived, she figured she had to wait for them, and then stay another thirty minutes. If she could… She felt the mayor’s hand go around her waist and stepped away, stumbling into the banker’s son, who grinned and half-pushed her back into Terence’s arms.

  “Hold tight to this one, Terence.” He winked.

  “I’m trying, but she’s a slippery one,” the mayor joked, pulling her back against him.

  Gritting her teeth, Bessie glanced at the antique grandfather clock and wondered where the hell her cousin and her cousin’s fiancé were. The mayor’s elaborate “welcome to our town” party for Tremayne Sheridan had started thirty minutes earlier. Deciding not to worry about stealth, she pulled her cell phone out and sent Alice a quick text, Where are you? The two lamps at either end of the mantel flickered. A minute later, one came back, Calm down. On way.

  Bessie frowned. And slapped Terence’s hand away from her butt.

  “Keep your damn hands off of me,” she muttered at him.

  He just laughed, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and anchored her at his side. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to elude his grasp. And it seemed as if everyone around them was against her, working to push her back to him every time she stepped away. Even members of her family. She desperately tried to get Darcy’s attention, but her oldest female cousin was deep in conversation with two other lawyers. Her older brother Carl and his bride Willa were talking to another couple, and Bessie had yet to see her oldest brother, the oldest of the Andersson cousins, Adam.

  Adam, she thought, pulling her phone out and texting him. You coming to mayor’s party? She waited, continuously glancing over her shoulder toward the door. The lamps flickered again and she frowned at the one to her right.

  “Now, Terence, the way this pretty young thing is looking at the door, I’m wondering if she’s planning an escape,” joked the DA.

  “Not at all, Tom.” Terence laughed, his hand on Bessie’s hip. “She’s anxious about my guests of honor.” He winked at him. “She wants to make sure I don’t get stood up or anything.”

  Bessie rolled her eyes, turning her head again. A flash of light near the door had her blinking several times. When she could see again, Terence was pulling her toward the door. The shadows coalesced into familiar forms and Bessie felt hope.

  “Ah, there you are. Welcome to my home, Tre,” Terence greeted him.

  “It’s Tremayne,” the actor corrected with a smile before glancing down at the petite red-head tucked at his side. “Only very close friends call me Tre.”

  “Well, I’ll get close then.”

  “Bessie, that dress looks fantastic on you.” Alice smiled in greeting.

  “She does look good, doesn’t she?” Terence was all smarm and charm as he ran his hand up and down her bare arm. “Good enough for a man to want to pull her away and gobble her up.”

  Bessie cringed as everyone laughed, including Chance Brickerton. Coming in just behind Tre and Alice, he was Tre’s best friend, business partner, and having seen him work out on a heavy bag, Bessie thought he was also a bodyguard. His gaze swept Bessie from head to toe making her wish she hadn’t worn the black sequined mini dress and heels. She’d piled her hair up on her head with curls escaping to tickle her neck. Terence’s hand moved over her shoulder and caught her nape. His fingers stroked up to her jaw.

  From the look that appeared like ice in Chance’s blue eyes, Bessie realized it looked like a lover’s touch. Her cousin Alice was her last hope.

  “Alice, do you have a…”

  “Now, Tre,” Terence interrupted, and began to talk about business in the area.

  As the chandelier in the entryway flickered, Bessie hissed and caught at Alice’s hand but her cousin smiled and shook her head. In despair, she looked at Chance who simply turned away and went to the bar set up on the other side of the room.

  Feeling dizzy, Bessie caught hold of the nearest chair and tried to breathe. The room spun slightly and the lights blinked twice.

  “Bessie, what is wrong with you?” Darcy muttered as she passed by. “Calm down, will you? Everyone’s talking about your behavior.”

  Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Bessie’s mind screamed at what was happening, but she couldn’t seem to say anything.

  “Ah, we need to get a couple more bottles from the cellar,” Terence was saying. “Bessie, come down and help me. We’ll just be a few minutes.”

  His arm wrapped around her waist and she felt helpless as he pulled her alongside him through the room to the kitchen. Everything in her fought, struggled to stop what was going on. This was wrong. It had to be. No. She was not going down into his basement. Into his wine cellar. But there seemed to be no way she could resist. No way she could stop from going down.

  Panicking, she tried to grab at Chance’s arm as she passed him.

  “Chance, can we talk about the paperwork?”

&nb
sp; After the flirting they’d done, the way he’d looked and spoken to her, surely he would see that she didn’t want to be with Terence. Again, the damn lights flashed and she suddenly felt like she was drowning.

  “Right now?” He shook his head and turned to talk to Hailey, Terence’s sister, who had been practically stalking Bessie’s brother Adam since kindergarten. Hailey, damn her, smirked over his shoulder at Bessie. Chance shrugged as if he didn’t care about business. “Call me Monday.”

  And then Terence was opening the door to the basement and guiding her down the steps.

  “Ah, here we are,” he said dramatically, opening the door to the wine cellar. “Alone at last.”

  “Terence, let go of me,” she demanded, tugging her arm.

  His fingers around her wrist tightened and he tugged her closer. His other hand reached out and closed the door. There was another flash of light. Startled, he glanced up at the mini-chandelier. Bessie had thought it absolutely ridiculous and pretentious when he’d decided to add it to the renovations. Which meant, she thought, that it suited Terence perfectly.

  “I need to get the electrician out here,” he muttered then focused on her. “Now, let’s make the most…”

  “Let go of me!”

  “Stop being such a damn tease,” he snapped. “Good God, you come here wearing that dress and shoes that scream fuck me. What do you think a man’s going to want to do to you?”

  He yanked on her wrist and she stumbled forward against him.

  “Terence, no,” she gasped.

  His hands were everywhere on her body as he maneuvered her back into a corner. She heard material tear but didn’t know what had ripped. His mouth came down on hers as she shoved at him. Desperate, she bit his tongue. He jerked back, eyes narrowing. She didn’t see his hand until it was too late, and reeled against the wine racks, making the bottles rattle. Stunned, Bessie held her left hand to her struck cheek.

  “You bitch,” he growled, hands yanking the hem of her dress up. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if your brother is the police chief. He can’t do shit to me. I’ll get the council to fire him and I’ll make sure he never works in New Mexico law enforcement.”

  “Help!”

  “It’s soundproof, remember?” he taunted. “You helped me with the contractors.”

  Bessie stared at him as his body pressed fully against hers, pinning her to the wall. His fingers caught the lace of her thong. She could feel his dick through his pants, the zipper rubbing on her stomach.

  “No,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t do this.”

  “Just relax and enjoy it,” he told her, catching both of her flailing wrists and holding them over her head. “There’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  She tried to kick out, but lost her balance. Laughing at her actions, he tugged her wrists higher until she was wobbling on her toes. And then began undoing his belt and pants.

  “No, no, no,” she chanted. His pants fell to the floor. She twisted, pushing him back a step. “No, no, no.”

  With his free hand, he shoved her back against the racks, then pulled his cock out of his briefs. His attention was focused on getting inside her pussy and the grip on her wrists slackened. The top of a bottle brushed the backs of her fingers. Instinctively, Bessie twisted her hands out of his grasp, grabbed the bottle and yanked it out. Startled by her movement, Terence glanced up, his hand releasing her. She wobbled on the damn needle-thin heels.

  “Wha…”

  Adrenaline gave her extra strength as she brought it down on his head. The bottle cracked and she rapped him again with it, releasing the neck. He staggered back, staring at her in shock, as red wine mingled with blood along his temple. Without hesitation, she grabbed another bottle and hefted it.

  “That’s a five hundred dollar cabern…”

  Stepping forward, she swung it like a tennis racket and caught him in the ribs. He bent over and she crashed it on the back of his head. Blood seeping into his blond hair, Terence fell to the floor among the shards of the broken bottles.

  Bessie snatched up another bottle in case he tried to come after her and edged along the racks, eyes on his fallen body as he moaned.

  “Damn bitch,” he swore.

  At the door, she looked back and, for good measure, threw the third bottle at him. Terence was just sitting up and the merlot caught him on the back of the head. He collapsed forward as it rolled to the floor. Stunned at her aim, she caught at the door handle for balance. Dear God, had she killed him? What should she do? She sure as hell wasn’t going to go check for a pulse and… He groaned, his hand moved on the floor, and she gasped. Stumbling out of the wine cellar, she closed the door and staggered toward the steps. She could hear the laughter and chatter of the guests.

  Alice and Darcy. They’d help her. She was halfway up the stairs when she remembered their behavior, acting as if she was the one who had lost her mind. But why on Earth would they think she wanted Terence’s hands all over her? They knew how much she loathed him despite her mother’s repeated attempts to put her with him.

  Twisting her right foot, she caught the newel post and bent slightly as there was another flash of light. Catching the ankle straps of her shoes, she stepped out of the heels and saw her little purse on the floor. She frowned. When had she dropped it? Deciding not to question small blessings, she snatched it up. It had her cell phone and car keys; and that was all she needed to get out and get home. To hell with her coat, her cousins, and everyone else.

  Rushing up the stairs, she felt a draft and glanced down. He’d torn one of the narrow shoulder straps along with her panties. Shuddering at the close call, she heard the wine cellar door open. Gasping in fear, she pushed open the door to the kitchen. Grateful it was empty of the caterers, she hurried through in her bare feet and out the back door. Her car was just around the corner and she tapped the remote as she neared it. Opening the driver’s door, she tossed her shoes on the passenger seat, slid in, started the engine, and sped away.

  The drive to her small house on the edge of town was a blur. Waking up the next morning, she couldn’t remember it at all—not parking, coming inside, washing her face, or anything. But she had. Trauma, Bessie thought, going to the bathroom. She’d heard that people who went through trauma were in a daze for a while.

  She glanced at the mirror and froze. There was a bruise on her left cheek. That she expected. But there was another mark on her. Just at her left clavicle. Shaking her head in denial, she leaned forward and stared. It looked like a hickey.

  But she knew damn well that Terence’s mouth hadn’t been there. Conflicting images and emotions rushed through her and she reeled, collapsing to the floor.

  Chapter Two

  “Tre, believe it or not, most people wait for the purchase to be complete before scheduling deliveries.”

  Leaning forward and resting his forearms on the edge of his desk in the “office” area of his hotel suite, Chance watched the award-winning actor turn from the large picture window.

  “Bessie said it was just a matter of days, and Alice liked the furniture.”

  “But it’s not all official, and the furniture could have waited a week.”

  Even as he spoke, Chance knew it wouldn’t matter to his long-time friend and business partner. Tremayne Sheridan was used to getting things his way and, having found Alice, would do anything to make her happy. And that had Chance curious. They’d made one forced stop in the small New Mexico town of Copper Fire because of an approaching storm, deciding to wait it out in a diner.

  Tre had spoken maybe a few minutes with her, the diner’s owner, and two boys. The boys had run out, followed by Alice, and then by Tre. Chance could have sworn he’d heard hail, but by the time he reached the diner door to help his friend, there was no sign of hail and Alice and the boys were climbing into her old compact.

  Tre had been reticent about what, if anything, the two had said. Except that that night, Tre had gotten drunk. Throwing up, head-pounding, bleary-eye
d obliterated for hours. And for three weeks, he’d driven Chance crazy with investigating Alice and her family.

  And then, totally out of character for the avowed bachelor and loner, he’d suddenly returned to the town, declaring his love for Alice and proposing.

  And decided to buy a ranch in the area, as well as adopt the two boys.

  Which meant Chance had been working with Alice’s cousin Bessie, who was a realtor. The woman knew what she was doing, Chance would give her that. But for the first three weeks, she had been constantly teasing and taunting him with innuendos, brushing up against him, and then acting all innocent. The sexual dominant in him had been buried for some time and she was pushing every button that would unleash it.

  And there was something about that bothering him. It wasn’t feeling this need to sexually dominate her, but…something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something over the last three weeks. He hadn’t seen her, barely heard her voice except on her messages, but she was all he could think about. He closed his eyes and he could see her face. And the emotions on her face weren’t ones he would normally expect on someone he’d first seen seven weeks ago. There’d been an immediate tug, a hardening in his cock, and when he imagined her, her eyes were full of heat, her body soft and pliable, and her pussy…

  And his cock twitched. He had to make himself focus on what Tre was saying.

  “Bessie said it would go through, and I didn’t see a reason to doubt her enough to delay the delivery,” Tre said now. “If you’d seen how excited Alice was…” His voice faded as he smiled.

  “Shit,” Chance muttered. He picked up his phone, dialed Bessie’s number, and got sent to voice mail. “She’s not picking up. Again.”

  “Are you two not getting along?” Tre asked, finally picking up on his grumpiness. “Or is there another problem?”

  “None of your damn business,” he muttered. There was a problem. Chance could feel it. He just didn’t know what the hell it was.

  Tre chuckled. “You need to get laid, bro.”

  “Shut up,” he replied, raising his hand and flipping him a middle finger as the imitation Tiffany lamp flashed.