Merciless (Playboys In Love Book 3)

by Gina L. Maxwell

“Until recently, Roman’s sexual proclivities almost always involved ménage. The two-guys-one-girl kind.” He exhales before saying the rest, like he’s purging it from his body. “And oftentimes I was the other guy.”

  “Ooh, kink—” I cut myself off as I realize what he’s trying to tell me. “Oh, you were with him and Addison.”

  “It was only in the beginning, until Roman finally got smart and stopped sharing her.”

  “Okay,” I say, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that the man I’m currently in a sexual relationship with was in a prior one with that gorgeous blond bombshell across the room. “So, it’s the same as still being friends with an ex-girlfriend. I get it.”

  “No, it’s not the same at all. That’s my point. Even though I was with them physically, I was never more than a tool for Roman to give her more pleasure than he could by himself. Addie and I never had any kind of investment in each other emotionally. Not as anything more than friends, I promise.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you did, Austin. It wouldn’t even matter if you were still involved with her. I don’t have any rights to you.” I lower my eyes to where he’s still holding my hands to his body. My chest feels tight, and the words are like ash on my tongue. “This isn’t anything serious, remember?”

  “Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he uses a finger under my chin to lift my gaze to his. “I’m not trying to push you for what you can’t give me, and I know I don’t have any claim over you, despite what I told Coop. But you feel free to claim me all you want. I’m yours for as long as you want me, Emi.”

  I do want him. I want him more than I should and more than I’m able. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything at all. Rising on my toes, I fuse my mouth to his, pouring my desire for him and what we have into the kiss. Oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside me, he anchors a hand on my neck and one at my back and kisses me like we’re the only two people in the world.

  “Does this mean we’re cool?”

  Austin smiles against my lips, then turns his head to acknowledge Addison, who’s clutching her hands in front of her chest with a hopeful look on her face. “You could’ve given me more time to seal the deal, Addie.”

  “I’m sorry, I totes hate to cockblock you and all, it’s just that Roman’s whining about not seeing you and I was hoping you could keep him occupied because the second half of his surprise is almost here, and I wanted a chance to talk to Emi because I really don’t want her to hate me, so I need you to move along, and at least two of those things are true.”

  Still unsure whether she’s intentionally being funny, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the giggle trying to escape. Austin doesn’t have the same concern and laughs with abandon, making me swoon where I stand. I love it when his dimples pop into his cheeks and the crinkly lines frame his dancing green eyes. “That sounds about right,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips as he brushes my cheek with his thumb. “We good, princess?”

  I nod and give him a reassuring smile. “Go on. I’d hate to see Roman cry at his half-birthday celebration.”

  He winks at me, then saunters off in the direction of his friends, and I’m left with a happy Addison, who claps her hands like a little kid about to get ice cream. “Okay, so you don’t hate me, right? Because there’s nothing between me and Austin. I’m utterly, madly, head-over-ass in love with Roman. The cowboy’s all yours.”

  “No, Addie, I don’t hate you. I’d like us to be friends,” I say genuinely. I still might not be sure how to take her all the time, but I am sure that while her personality is a lot more over-the-top than I’m used to, her heart is big, and her intentions are good. And I think I like her even more for the fact that she’s completely the opposite of anyone I know. Nothing will ever be dull with her around, and that’s exactly what my life has been missing.

  “Perfect! I told Janey we were going to be just like the Three Musketeers.”

  “Wow, Austin gets himself a ball and chain and suddenly I’m replaced?”

  I turn around to a smiling familiar face. “Raquel,” I say, surprised to see the girl I nicknamed Bambi outside amateur night at Cardinal Sin.

  She squints a little, trying to place me. “Yeah, how’d you—” Her eyes grow big. “Raven? Oh my gosh, you’re Austin’s girlfriend? That’s so cool!”

  “No, I’m not—”

  “Holy shitballs, nobody move,” Addie orders, then she yells loud enough to be heard over the music. “Janey, stop making goo-goo eyes at Thor and get your cute butt over here.”

  Jane leaves the bar and joins us, cosmo in hand. “What’s up?”

  “Emi is Raven.”

  Jane looks perplexed for a few seconds, then gasps. “The dancer you told me about at Cardinal Sin? Oh wow, I wish I could’ve seen you that night, Emi. Addie told me you were amazing.”

  I think my cheeks are literally on fire. It’s not every day that your new friends realize they watched you rip most of your clothes off and dance like a sex-crazed maniac around a pole for a room of horny men and a mountain of singles. Not that I took the money, but that’s beside the point at the moment.

  “She was, and Austin was drooling all over himself, and I was totally shipping them, and I even named them Ravstin, but now we can call you Emstin because you’re so together. Let the record show I totally called this, which obvs means I’m psychic. Recognize, bitches!”

  “So your real name is Emi. That’s beautiful.” Raquel performs a sneak attack hug, proving to be just as sweet as I remember her. “I’m so happy to see you again, I can’t even tell you. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know if I would’ve gone through with dancing that night. Are you dancing at the next one? Then Jane and I can see you in action.”

  “Um, I’m not sure.” I didn’t even realize that I missed this month’s amateur night until just now. Usually I’m itching to let Raven out of her cage by the time the next one rolls around, but I haven’t even thought about it. The play sessions with Austin have kept her depraved needs well-fed. “Can we keep this between us, though? No one really knows—”

  “That you have a kickass stripper alter ego?” Addison finishes for me. Smiling at me, she says, “Don’t worry, girl, we have some experience keeping that particular secret.”

  Jane and Raquel nod in agreement and promise not to take an ad out in the Tribune about my less-than-respectable hobby. Relief washes over me, but there’s one more thing I feel I should clear up. “Also, for the record, Austin and I— We’re not…well, we shouldn’t have a combo name, you know what I mean? It’s not like that.”

  Addison snorts. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, hon.” She links her arm through mine, then tips her head to where the guys are all hanging out by the bar. “Come on, ladies. We don’t want to miss the look on Roman’s face in a few minutes.”

  “What happens in a few minutes?” I ask, walking with the girls.

  She tosses her blond waves behind her shoulder and smirks. “I become the best girlfriend in the history of ever.”

  As soon as I reach Austin, he pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. “Everything okay?”

  It does crazy things to my insides the way he checks in with me. It’s not always with words—he’s gotten very adept at reading my body language and reacting accordingly—but whether we’re eating lunch, acting out fantasies, or watching a movie, he’s always very in tune with me.

  I beam up at him and slip my arms around his waist. “Everything’s great.” I’m rewarded with that dazzling smile I love so much, and then he introduces me to Liam, who’s another P4H guy and also the best friend Raquel told me about who hadn’t been thrilled with her stint as an amateur stripper. From the way I see him looking at her when he thinks no one’s watching, my suspicions were right. That boy has it bad.

  A minute later, Roman’s second surprise walks in: all twenty-two players of the Chicago Blackhawks, led by Addison’s cousin, Sam Larsen, who brought a hockey s
tick that eventually got signed by every member of the team. It’s mass chaos that puts any case of fangirling I’ve ever seen to shame. We drink and dance and shoot more tequila than is healthy, but by the end of the night, both of Addison’s predictions have come true: she is dubbed the best girlfriend in the history of ever, and I admit—if only to myself—that Austin and I are indeed temporarily…together.

  Chapter Eleven

  Austin

  “Your hand needs to stay on my lower back, Mr. Massey.”

  “I apologize, Ms. DeLuca. I’m focusing so much on my feet that I forget about my hand placement.”

  I look down and give her a smile that’s more a display of teeth than an offer of charm and humility. Since I’ve made no move to rectify the problem, I allow her to reach back and raise my hand up from where I let it slip to her ass. Correction: I put it there purposely.

  Emi gives me a tight smile and continues to unnecessarily lead me through the steps of a samba. I know how to do this dance, just like I know all the other forms of ballroom from years of dancing with my mother. I could lead Emi around this empty studio as easily as breathing. But that’s not the fantasy we’re playing out right now.

  Tonight, I’m a guy who’s hired her to teach him how to ballroom dance. A guy who’s been watching her from afar and getting more obsessed with her by the day. A guy who plans on using this lesson as an excuse to get what he wants from her.

  It’s easy to imagine someone becoming obsessed with her; she’s always beautiful, but in her element like this, she’s absolutely ethereal. Her hair flows in black waves down her back, taunting my hands with its freedom. A sleek white tank top with crisscross spaghetti straps hugs her unbound breasts, and a glance at her nipples peaking against the tight fabric proves her outward discomfort with me is all for show. The filmy pink skirt swirls around her thighs as her hips twist, her heels clicking on the hardwood with every step we take across the dance floor.

  As our bodies move together, I give her a reprieve and keep the rigid form without taking any liberties. My plans for her are as much a dance as the one she’s pretending to teach me. There’s a give and take, a push and pull. A time to let her lead and a time I’ll force her to follow.

  I let her spin out, then pull her back in harder than necessary, causing her to slam into the harder planes of my body. She tries to push against my chest to put the proper distance between us, but I don’t relent in my hold on her.

  “Mr. Massey, please,” she says softly. “This isn’t professional.”

  The delicious little tremor in her voice coaxes my predator closer to the surface. I feel him yawn and stretch inside me, slowly waking and filling my body with the merciless animal who gets off on the pleas of its prey. And just as I’m changing, so will she. Not quite yet, though. During our games, she pretends to fight her change for a while. But eventually the regal princess slips away, and a beautiful doll stands in her place. My beautiful doll.

  “No, it’s not.” My voice lowers to match the more insidious nature of the man now standing before her. The man who walked into her studio doling out charm and appropriate deference to her authority is snuffed out. Now she is the one who will defer to my authority over her body, according to my whims. “But then you knew this wasn’t going to be a proper dance lesson, didn’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s what you signed up for. You hired me to teach you how to dance.”

  “I signed up for the pretense, but you and I both know this isn’t what we’re here for.”

  She tries to take a step back, but it’s no use. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Mr. Massey.”

  “Master.”

  “What?”

  “Instead of Mr. Massey, I think I’d like to hear you call me Master.”

  I’ve never requested this before, but it feels right for this particular character I’m playing. I wasn’t sure how it’d go over with Emi, but this close I can see her pupils swallowing the dark chocolate of her irises and the pulse beating a rapid tattoo beneath the delicate skin of her throat. And even if I couldn’t see those signs of her arousal, the almost imperceptible tilt of her hips to connect her pussy with my thigh speaks volumes. My little doll is practically purring from the idea.

  “I’m not calling you Master or anything else. We’re done here.”

  In the blink of an eye, I turn so that her back is against the huge wall of mirrors, the ballet barre the perfect height to press into her lower back, keeping her pelvis thrust forward for me. “Yes, you will,” I growl against her ear, “and we’re not even close to being done.”

  She injects a bit of steel into her voice. “Get the hell off me.”

  “Make me.” I chuckle, moving lower to bite that sensitive spot over her racing pulse. She gasps so prettily, making my cock lengthen behind the pathetic barrier of my dress slacks. I reward her with a soothing lick of my tongue over the faint bite mark. Sadly, it’ll disappear in another few minutes, but I would never mark Emi where she could be questioned or ridiculed.

  Despite the music still playing through the speakers, I hear the tiny squeak she makes and feel her shuddering exhale that fans across my neck. Fuck, I love it when she can’t keep up the pretense of hating my touch. It’s like an injection of jet fuel to my system, and it takes every ounce of control I have to not go straight to my end game and sink inside her. Instead, I can either pretend I didn’t hear it, or I can use it against her.

  “Mmm, I knew you wanted this, pet,” I say, going with option two. I pull back just enough to look into her eyes as I grip her face in my hand to hold her steady. “All night you’ve been fucking me with those sexy eyes, and now you want to play coy with me. But your body tells me exactly what you want, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” she says, trying to shake her head. “Please.”

  I’ve gotten good at reading Emi, and she’s mastered the art of words or phrases that sound like stop but really mean go. It’s sheer genius, really. Sometimes I think she’s better at this whole thing than I am.

  “Please,” she repeats with more insistence, begging me so sweetly.

  My free hand snakes between our bodies and cups her pussy over her gauzy skirt. “How’s this for hand placement?”

  She makes a tiny noise of protest even as she pushes into my touch. I can feel the heat from her arousal on my palm, I can smell it in the air. It makes me ravenous for the taste of her, but part of the game for me is denying myself what I would typically do as her lover. I’ll have to wait until I get her back to my place after this. Then I’ll make her come with my mouth so many times she won’t have the strength to get out of bed till morning.

  “No? Then how about this. You get on your knees and suck me off, and if you’re a good girl about it, I’ll not only fuck you quick, but I won’t destroy your reputation with the video my phone is taking of us over there.”

  She narrows her eyes. “All that will prove is that you forced me.”

  “Not once I edit it. It’ll look like you make a habit out of fucking your clients.” I reach down to release my belt, the metal sounds of the buckle causing her to lick her lips in anticipation. “Now get on your knees and show me how thankful you are for my mercy.”

  Emi sinks gracefully to the hardwood floor. Once my pants are opened, I reach in and free my aching erection. Thick and vascular, with a reddish-purple crown, my dick looks as mean as the man I’m playing.

  Peering up at me through her lashes, Emi’s limpid brown eyes plead with me. “That thing’s a monster. There’s no way I can take all of it.”

  I bare my teeth in a fake smile. “Probably not. But it’ll be fun as hell to try.” Fisting her hair at the back of her head, I give it a sharp tug, lighting up her scalp how she likes. “Beg me for it.” She hesitates and swallows hard like she’s trying to work up the courage to obey my command. “I said beg me.”

  “Please give me your cock.”

  Another quick yank on her hair. She gasps, and
her lids lower to half-mast. “Please what?”

  “Please, Master,” she says breathily. “Please, Master, give me your cock.”

  “Much better, pet. Now open up, and remember, no teeth. Or you’ll be sorry.”

  Emi opens her mouth wide, and I use my free hand to guide the swollen head inside. Wet heat sears my straining flesh, the intense pleasure causing me to hiss through clenched teeth. I keep my thrusts shallow at first, giving her the chance to loosen up and find our rhythm. But it isn’t long before I’m pushing deep enough for the head to hit the back of her throat.

  “That’s it. Good girl,” I rasp. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking hot with your lips stretched around my cock.”

  I pick up the pace a little, pumping my hips in and out, reveling in the way she stiffens her tongue to run along the sensitive underside of my dick. Her nostrils flare with her shallow breaths as she fights off her natural gag reflex. It took some practice, but now she doesn’t have a problem taking me all the way to the root, and it’s sexy as fuck.

  Now craving a demonstration of her newfound talent, I palm the back of her head with both hands. “Deeper,” I growl as she stares up at me with a needy desire that sets me on fire. “All the way down.”

  I pull her in until I feel myself breach the opening of her throat and her nose is pressed into my lower abdomen. Her hands grip the back of my thighs, and I doubt she even registers the fact that she’s holding me in place, too. Her eyes water as she swallows around the head of my cock. I curse a blue streak and almost come on the spot before pulling her completely off of me.

  Emi drags in huge gulps of air and uses the back of her hand to wipe the saliva off her chin. Glaring at me, she says, “That good enough for you, asshole?”

  I almost groan in appreciation but manage to keep my composure as I haul her to her feet. Grabbing the sides of her face, I growl, “Shut the fuck up,” then crush my mouth to hers. My tongue plunges inside and wrestles for control. Her nails bite into my ass cheeks as I press her back against the wall of mirrors again, though I’m careful not to put too much pressure where the barre hits her.