Rule Play
Elizabeth Perry
Perry Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Perry
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
No Touch Zone
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1
Adrian
I have a beautiful woman sitting on my lap.
I don’t know her name, because I didn’t even ask. I don’t know what she does for a living, I don’t know how old she is, and I don’t know where she grew up.
What I do know, is that she’s trashed. The scent of stale vodka surrounds me, as she whispers into my ear, and tells me exactly what she wants to do to me tonight. If she wouldn’t have told me, I could have guessed it for myself. The tiny dress that barely covers her body and the lack of panties basically gave her away.
She doesn’t know anything besides my name, either. All that she knows, is that I am the quarterback of the Minnesota Saints, and so, she’s ready to fuck me.
A few years ago, I would have taken her up on all of the offers that she’s whispering into my ear. I could list them all off, but what’s the point? Just know that if I wanted it, she would be more than willing to give it to me. It’s just too easy, too empty, and frankly, I’m not even remotely interested in hooking up anymore.
I’ve been here, and I’ve done that. I’ve been the life of these kinds of parties and had more than my fair share of one night stands all due to being none other than the Adrian Malone.
And now, I’m just ready to get out of here.
My teammates are living it up and soaking in all of the attention from the many scantily clad females circulating the room. Jude Masters, our tight end, has already scooted off behind closed doors with not one, but two women ready to maul him. Declan Sanders, our running back is just a few feet away from me on the couch, with a dark haired woman sitting on top of him, dry fucking him while he gives me a thumbs up. Wyatt Anderson, my best friend on the team and wide receiver is around here somewhere, likely getting chewed out by his little sister Willow, for throwing yet another rager at his house on a weeknight. Willow moved in with him a few months ago to go to grad school, and since she isn’t a partier, stuff like this really pisses her off.
“Adrian.” Willow comes around the corner, looking as exasperated as I feel. “One of the sluts just puked all over my bedroom. Can you please help me find Wyatt and break this fiasco up?”
The woman on my lap huffs at Willow as if she’s offended by being called a slut. I mean, it is a degrading name to call them, but for real. They are literally here to fuck. That is their sole purpose at each and every one of these parties. There isn’t even any shame in their game. They want to bang us. They want bragging rights.
My girl’s head snaps in Willows direction, and I see her mouth start to open.
“Don’t even think about it.” I warn her. “Say one thing to her, and your ass is out the door.” I shift her off of my lap, without saying anything further. Without missing a beat, she moves on to another player, picking up exactly where she left off with me.
See why this would get old?
I follow Willow down the hall, and into her bedroom. I immediately see the issue. There is a blond woman laying in the middle of the floor, on top of Willow’s white shag rug. She’s face down in a pool of vomit, snoring loudly with a drink still in her hand.
“What do I do with her?” Willow throws her arms up. “I have class in the morning. I need to go to bed!”
I feel for Willow, because I can’t imagine actually having to live in the party house. Usually, I just stop by for a few hours, handle whatever business I feel like handling that night, and then head home to the comfort of my own place. Willow is stuck here, day in and day out. Wyatt’s kind of a dick for letting this shit happen.
We quickly form a plan to wash the puke off of the woman’s face. After that, we pull her by her ankles off of the rug, throw a blanket over her, and I carry her into the guest bedroom that is next door. Luckily, just as I’m fumbling with the door, it opens from the inside and Jude walks out, smiling widely with two women on each side. The room reeks like sex, and I have no doubt that a threesome just went down in here. I’m so fucking happy that I wasn’t five minutes sooner.
“Damn, Malone.” Jude glances at the woman in my arms. “New low, huh buddy? Banging them in that state?”
“Fuck you, Masters.” I glare at him. “And help me get that nasty ass bedding off the bed before I lay her down.” He raises an eyebrow but does as I ask. The comforter was already on the floor, so after the sheets are pulled off, I lay the woman down on the bed, and then toss the comforter back over her. She grumbles something that I don’t even try to make out, before rolling onto her side and going right back to snoring. I head back to Willow’s room and help her roll up her rug. I toss it out into the hallway, not even giving a fuck that puke might have splattered, and then make my way out the front door, and towards the safety of my home.
I vow that this will be the last party like this that I attend. I have zero interest in hooking up with one of these women, anyways. That’s literally the only point in even going.
I hit the shower immediately, washing off the smell of strong perfume and vodka from my skin, letting my current lifestyle wash down the drain with it. I know that it’s time for a change, but fuck, I don’t even know how to go about being different. I’m not a relationship guy, and I doubt that I ever will be. I have a set of rules that I live by, starting and ending with never falling in love again. This lifestyle has always been safe, since those women only want one night from me anyways. They want to make sure that they’ve slept with the entire roster, so doing us more than once isn’t usually how it goes.
Maybe someday, a woman worth a damn will find me, and catch me off guard. But until then, I think that I’ll just continue playing the game on my own rules. Only this time, I’m doing it from the comfort of my own home. Fuck those parties.
I’m going to be a different man.
2
Mia
Have you ever had one of those moments, where you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole? Well that’s me. And it would be great if that could happen right about now.
Another thing that would be great, is if my brain could manage to get a signal to my mouth to shut the hell up. But no, that isn’t happening. And as more word vomit flows out of my mouth, my best friend Sophia grows even more pale.
I should be the one whose pale right now, dammit. Instead, I’m acting as cool as a cucumber, while lying through my teeth about my new boyfriend. You know, the one who doesn’t actually exist.
Let me back up.
Six months ago, I was engaged to the love of my life, the man currently standing before me, arm and arm with his new girlfriend. I’m using
the word new loosely here, since as it turns out, they’ve been together for over a year. So, what they have isn’t exactly new.
Puke.
It’s one thing to get cheated on, I mean, that kind of crap is heart wrenching enough. It’s another thing completely to get left for the person, before you even have a clue as to what’s going on. Every woman who has been cheated on could testify to that. It sucks to find out that your man has had a side chick, but it’s a bit empowering to watch them grovel at your feet, begging you for forgiveness all while crying about what a huge mistake they’ve made. I didn’t get that. In fact, when he finally fessed up, he had zero remorse. It crushed my self-esteem and stripped me of my dignity. I didn’t get to gloat while he groveled, as I sat on my high horse, continuing to tell him that there is no coming back from cheating.
I just got left. Discarded and forgotten. The exact kind of moment that either guts you or makes you crazy. For me, it’s been option number two.
“I really don’t know if we’ll be able to make it to the high school reunion.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, forcing the best smug smile that I can muster at the two douchebags standing in front of me. “Adrian is just so busy, you know? His whole schedule is just game after game, state after state. He begs me to join him, of course, but with me being so busy, you know, dating someone famous and managing my booming salon and all, I just can’t always swing it.”
“Wow.” Michael bats her stupid fake eyelashes at me, and then turns her gaze at my ex-fiancé, Brett. “I’m so jealous. Adrian Malone is so insanely gorgeous. He’s my favorite player of all time.”
I already know this. You know how? Hours and hours of Facebook stalking sessions, thank you very much. Yeah, I was probably sobbing while scrolling, and shoving my face full of moose tracks ice cream, but that little detail doesn’t matter. All that matters, is the look of awe on her face. Nailed it.
“Adrian Malone, eh?” Brett grunts in disgust. “That seems a little bit far-fetched there, M. You’ve always been a good storyteller. That one just might be the most extravagant one yet.”
I don’t have a comeback for that one, but luckily, my phone dings, enough to pull my attention away from them. I glance at the screen, seeing a spam text flashing on my screen, telling me that my cars warranty is almost up, but my lies are on a roll today, so I just widen my smirk and yet again toss my hair around.
“It’s hardly a story, Brett.” I point to my phone. “As a matter of fact, speak of the devil.” I make my face light up, and then, sigh the sigh of a woman in love. I really should have been an actress, because I am selling this so well, I’m even surprising myself. “That was Adrian texting me, and he was able to switch his schedule around enough to make it to the high school reunion. Looks like we’ll be seeing you guys there after all.” I turn an icy glare to Michael Ann, the dumb twit with her arm around the man that was mine. “Maybe I can get you an autograph or something. He doesn’t usually like to be bothered by women like you, but I might be able to make it happen. He’ll do just about anything for me.”
With that, I spin on one heel and do the best sashay that I can with shaky legs. Sophia falls into step beside me, and I know that she is probably drawing blood from biting her tongue so hard. She manages to keep her comments to herself though, until we are safely tucked into her car. That’s the moment that she turns to me, with wide eyes and an irritated look.
“I think it’s safe to say that did not go well.”
All of my fake façade of confidence leaves me like helium leaves a balloon when it’s popped. My entire body sags against the leather seat, and my head falls to my hands.
“Oh my god, I know! I don’t know what came over me! The words, Soph! The words! They just wouldn’t stop!”
“The words?” Her voice is a shriek. “The lies, you mean? Mia! You don’t even know Adrian Malone! You don’t even watch football! Why in the bloody hell would you tell them that he, of all fucking people, is your boyfriend?”
“I have no idea.” My stomach is churning, and honestly, I feel like I might vomit. “Adrian Malone is Brett’s favorite player. His stupid boy named girlfriend is obsessed with him too. I just, I mean, I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I had to get back at them! What do I do?”
“Jesus, Mia.” Sophia grumbles underneath her breath, and types furiously into her phone. “I don’t even know what to do here. I guess you better figure out a way to get Adrian Malone to date you, otherwise, you are going to look like a total jackass.”
I think I’m already there.
Sometimes, I wonder when it will stop. Other times, I don’t focus so much on the fact that my life is completely falling apart. Today though, the grey skies and feel of rain in the air fit my mood completely. Today, I’m damned depressed.
Usually, fall is my favorite time of year. I love the cool air. I love the idea of wrapping myself up in front of the fire, while the leaves fall outside, and darkness sets in. But since my heart has been shattered into a million pieces, I’m finding that it’s hard to love the things that I used to. And the dark skies only make me ache for what I lost even more.
I can’t even say that I’m aching for Brett still, but I also can’t say that I’m not. Mostly, I’ve just got a lot of self loathing going on, because I gave my all to that man, and still, what I am wasn’t enough to keep him around. I think that’s the part that guts me the most. Knowing that no matter what, I was never going to be enough for him.
I feel like an idiot, because now, looking back, all of the signs were there. He became distant. Critical of me, which in turn, only made me try harder to please him. He was putting off planning our wedding, while I was busy trying to hurry up and make it happen, because I was afraid of losing him. I guess I never figured another woman into the equation, but I should have. And I’m that much more of a fool for not noticing it sooner.
Fuck. I didn’t notice it, at all. I chalked his behavior up to cold feet, when in all reality, it was because he had met someone else, and had fallen in love with her. There wasn’t even some big blow out at the end, when it all went down. It was just a normal Tuesday, that had started out like all of the Tuesdays before it. Only, that one ended with my heart getting ripped out of my chest.
I had been rambling on about something and nothing all at the same time. Brett had been sitting across the table from me, listening like he always did. The corners of his lips had turned up in a half smile, which was always my kryptonite for the man. I had leaned forward, grabbed his hand in mine, and wiggled my eyebrows. I had then suggested that we skip the rest of dinner, and head to the bedroom. That’s when his entire demeanor changed. He grew silent, his face darkened, and emotions that I had never seen before were clear as day in his eyes.
“I can’t do that.” He had said simply, and then let go of my hand. “I can’t keep cheating on her with you.”
Cheating on her.
Wait, what? Cue in an obvious shocked expression. He then proceeded to tell me that he didn’t love me anymore, because he had fallen in love with someone else. Now, that was quite a blow. Turns out though, the hits were just starting.
I had asked him who she was. Dammit, I at least deserved to know that. But I never, and I do mean ever expected him to tell me that he had been cheating on me, with my high school frenemy, Michael Ann Davis.
Michael Ann. Good god, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do me dirty with. And the worst part was, he knew that. I grew up with Michael, and from the day that I met her in kindergarten, we had a testy relationship. All through school, she did little passive aggressive things to make my life hell. She spread rumors about me, flirted with every single boyfriend that I had, and talked crap about me behind my back. I was an athlete, and so was she, and since we played on all of the same sports teams growing up, I had no choice but to suck it up and brush her off. Even though honestly, I just wanted to punch her in her stupid face.
So, imagine the way that I felt, finding out that the grown up ver
sion of her, was sleeping with my fiancé. And not only that-I was being left for her. Brett has chosen her over me. That was the lowest blow of them all.
So needless to say, I went a little crazy. I threw some shit at Brett in the next moment and called him every name in the book. I then told him that Michael had herpes, which I didn’t know for a fact, but hoped to God was true. Shortly after, I realized that if she had herpes, then I probably did too, since Brett the Bitch had been tag teaming us both.
Luckily, for me, she didn’t have any diseases, but that was the only good thing to come out of this entire mess.
I’ve gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the last two months, more so in the last two days, since seeing them together for the first time took me by surprise. Oh yeah, such surprise, that I lied through my teeth about dating the starting quarterback of the Minnesota Saints, Adrian Malone.
I might as well have said that I was dating Santa Claus. That one might have been easier to pull off. I am not a football fan whatsoever, but even I know that Adrian Malone is untouchable for a woman like me. He’s six foot six, two hundred and sixty pounds of pure gorgeousness (I know that from searching him online, by the way). His skin is tan, his hair is dark, and his large body is nothing but muscle. He dates the tens of the world, and most certainly wouldn’t go for a strong six like me. Not that there is even a chance in hell that I could meet the guy. Things like that just don’t happen.
I’m going to be the laughingstock when this all comes to a head, that much, I’m sure of. And Michael Ann is going to have one more thing to gloat over me about.
Rule Play (Saints of Love Book 1) Page 1
