The Next Play: Part Two

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “Jonah, man, cool it,” Jack suddenly muttered. “I think this is done.”

  Jonah rubbed his tongue against hers one last time, then lifted his head, keeping his hard, beautiful face right over hers. He pulled his fingers free of her softly pulsing slit, gently stroking them over her puffy vulva as he flicked his heavy-lidded gaze up at Jack—and he smirked at what he saw. “You hear that, Jace? McKenna’s trying to be all noble, but his dick is fucking diamond-hard right now, and his mouth is watering. Should we let him have a taste?”

  Oh…Oh, God. Did he want them to touch her, instead of just watch? Was he trying to share her, like he had with Denny?

  It’d been a little over a week since Jocelyn had received the anonymous text message telling her that Jonah, Gabriel, and Denny had engaged in a threesome one night last summer at Gabriel’s apartment. Though she’d asked Denny to keep the text private, she knew that her friend had given in a few days later and told Gabriel about it. But he hadn’t said anything to Jonah. Not yet, at least.

  Gabriel had the security team at Atlas monitoring her texts and calls, since the message had come in on her company-issued cell phone, which was fine by her. The text had creeped her out, and she wanted to know who was responsible for sending it as badly as they did.

  But it had also been eye-opening.

  Learning what she had about Jonah’s past, Jocelyn hadn’t known if she would be able to get involved with him. Not in a judgmental way, because she was the last person who could cast judgment on another, having been on the receiving end of that nastiness more times than she could count. But it was still an uncomfortable situation, because Denny was her friend.

  Now, though… Yeah, none of that seemed to matter now, because this… This was nothing like what Denny had told her about the night she’d been with both Jonah and Gabriel. That particular occasion had been about coming together, and as painful as it was to accept, Jocelyn was beginning to suspect that today was about wrenching something apart. Tearing it into so many tiny little pieces, it couldn’t ever be put back together.

  She might be curious—but there wasn’t enough curiosity in the world to allow her to lie there and let him destroy something they didn’t even have.

  “Jocelyn!”

  His deep voice brought her back to the moment—to the reality that was staring down at her with hot eyes and a smirk that didn’t look so much cocky as it did cruel—and she felt all the heat he’d stoked inside her turn to ice.

  Placing her hands against his muscular shoulders, she said, “Jonah, stop. I can’t do this.”

  Lifting his wet fingers to her chin, he kept his narrowed gaze locked tight with hers as he said, “You sure that’s what you want, Jace? Because I think you’re tougher than that. I think you could take anything the three of us can dish out. I think you want to take it.”

  “Is that really what you want?” she whispered. “To share me with your friends?”

  So many shields fell over his expression, it was almost impossible to see him through the layers. She could practically hear the clanging of the metal gates as they slammed down, locking him inside. But his voice was firm as he said, “Only if you say yes.”

  Fighting to keep her voice steady, she asked, “And if I do?”

  “You say the word,” he rasped with a hard smile, “and I’ll let the first one who makes you come fuck your sweet mouth while I bury myself in your hot little cunt.”

  Yeah, and then he’d never freaking touch her again. She knew it. Could sense it with every fiber of her being. And suddenly this entire scene, from the moment she’d walked back into his office with their coffees and found Jack and Nic with him, started to make sense.

  The ice he’d created shattered inside her, as if it’d been struck by a hammer, and she curled her lip with disgust as she stared up at him. “Let me up.” When he didn’t move fast enough, she screamed, “Now!”

  He immediately stepped back, giving her space, a bored expression on his handsome face that she knew was complete and total bullshit. He expected her to run, but like hell was she going to make it that easy for him. She was pissed, and her anger gave her the courage to stand her ground.

  Nic and Jack walked over to the far edge of the glass wall, giving them their backs as they stared out at the city’s skyline, for which she was grateful.

  Jerking the skirt of her dress down, she looked Jonah right in the eye. “Why did you want this?”

  He gave a hard, sarcastic snort, as if he thought her question was ridiculous. “Why? Because it turns me on.”

  “No,” she countered, pushing her arms back into her dress as she pulled the bodice back on and slid off the edge of the desk. “There’s more to it than that. I think you did it to push me away.”

  “Christ, Jocelyn. Push you away from what?” he demanded, shoving one of his big hands back through his auburn hair so hard she was surprised he didn’t rip it out. “A hard, dirty fuck? Because that’s where we were headed.”

  “Don’t you mean a foursome?”

  Working his jaw a few times, he glared at her from under his brows. “You knew what I liked when this thing started. I’ve never lied to you.”

  “No, but I think you lie to yourself.” She turned away from him and walked around the desk, yanking her jacket off the chair that Nic had been sitting in, since she couldn’t button up the back of her dress without Jonah’s help. And there wasn’t a chance she was asking for that. “I think you lie to yourself all the time!”

  “Yeah?” he sneered, coming around the desk as she pulled the jacket on. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s lying? Because I’m pretty sure you creamed even harder when I talked about Jack eating you out.”

  Ignoring that deliberate taunt, she grabbed her laptop and shoved it into her bag. “Last week when we were in the conference room, you told me that you didn’t want Lucas touching me.”

  “Do you see Lucas in my office?” he barked.

  Jerking the bag onto her shoulder, she gave him a stunned look of confusion. “So it’s okay for other men to touch me, so long as it’s not Lucas?”

  “Yeah,” he growled, his beautiful blue eyes suddenly filled with so much torment and pain it made her breath catch. “And you’d enjoy it if you just stopped being such a fucking little prude about it.”

  Torn between wanting to slap him for the words coming out of his mouth and needing to hug him for that haunted look in his eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath. What she was about to say was important, and she didn’t want her anger to screw it up. “I… This isn’t me, Jonah. I won’t lie, because I honestly did think about it. I thought I owed it to the chemistry between us to at least give it a try, and you know how to push a woman’s buttons. You’re the master at it; I’d bet my life on that. And yeah, I came. The body can find pleasure in things that the head and heart don’t always want to accept. But just because my body likes something…that doesn’t mean that it’s right for my head, or for my heart.”

  “Who gives a shit about your heart? I thought I made it clear that your body was what interested me.”

  “Wow,” she whispered, her throat burning, “you’re making walking away from you easier with every word that comes out of your mouth.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” he scoffed. “Walking away? Because it looks an awful lot like you’re running.”

  “What I’m doing is leaving, because you aren’t giving me any other choice.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” he roared. “Or for you!”

  “Then today’s your lucky day,” she seethed with pain, “because you don’t fucking have me.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Determined to ignore the panic cutting at his insides, like a knife repeatedly digging into his gut, Jonah sucked in a hard breath, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and fought to keep his voice under control as he said, “You’re lying to yourself, Jocelyn. You won’t be able to stay away. You crave this—what happened here—every bit as much
as I do.”

  “No, I’m just finally being honest. I thought I could try the sex thing with you, but I can’t. Not like this.” The words were hoarse with emotion, followed by another one of those fucking tears slipping from the corner of her eye that made him want to pick up his chair and hurl it through the goddamn wall of glass. “I deserve more than just a man who can screw me. I want—”

  “You want what?” he cut in, snarling at her. “Some lovesick fool ready to chase after you, begging for scraps, while you lead him around by his dick?”

  She shook her head, all those blond curls fanning out around her shoulders. “No. I—”

  “You what, Jocelyn? Don’t be shy. Just spit it the fuck out.”

  More tears spilled over her pale cheeks as she blinked. “I feel sorry for you, Jonah. You have so much anger stored inside you that you can’t even see past it.”

  He snorted as he took a step closer to her, vaguely aware that Nic and Jack were listening to their every word. “Oh yeah?” he mocked in a quiet rasp. “And what exactly can’t I see?”

  She kept those beautiful, glistening eyes locked hard on his as she softly, but firmly said, “That you could have something real, if you wanted it. You’re just too fucking afraid to try.”

  It took everything he had not to flinch at those telling words, his nerves so raw he felt like they’d been put through a grater. “You’re running like a child. But you’re an adult, Jocelyn. Grow up. Adults don’t get to throw a fit and leave every time their perfect little world gets tweaked.”

  She shot him a sad smile, wiping the tears from her face. “You know nothing about me or my world.”

  He pulled his hand over his mouth, cursing low and rough, then reached out and grabbed her arm as she started to push past him. “You’re not going to let your other man fuck you tonight,” he muttered, his voice so low he doubted the guys could even hear him. “Not after the way you came for me.”

  She shot him a surprised look, then quietly laughed. “There is no other man, you idiot.”

  Confusion had his brows drawing into a tight scowl. “Then who in the hell is always texting you?”

  Instead of answering his question, she jerked her arm from his hold. “You know, between the two of us, you’re the one who acts like a child, Jonah.”

  And then she stormed out, leaving him standing there like a jackass, wondering how and why everything had gone so maddeningly wrong.

  Walking slowly over to the wall of glass, he shoved his hands back into his pockets, his teeth clenched together so hard he was surprised they didn’t crack. Christ, I don’t need this kind of shit, he thought, nostrils flaring as he exhaled a jagged breath. Fucked up scenes like the one that had just taken place was why he had Vane. That was where he belonged. Not playing around with some little mouse who expected things he didn’t want to give. Trust. Fidelity. Commitment. Hah! Screw that. He’d rather be where he wasn’t constantly put through an emotional wringer. Where he wasn’t reduced to acting like a jealous son of a bitch just because he saw a woman he wanted to fuck laughing with one of his oldest friends.

  A woman who was the most beautiful, sweet, fascinating person he’d ever known.

  He tried to pull in another breath, but his chest was so tight he could only gasp, and he lifted one hand to the glass, pressing his palm flat against the cool surface as his head fell forward, his lungs jerking. He flinched as it suddenly hit him, the reality of what he’d just done slamming into his body like a fucking truck, and the pain almost doubled him over.

  Oh, Christ. That was… Fuck, that wasn’t… What? Not what he’d wanted?

  “Bullshit!” he hissed, fisting his hand against the glass. That little scene had been exactly what he’d wanted. He hadn’t been trying to get his fill of her. He’d been playing a goddamn game of chicken, just waiting for her to run.

  Drowning in waves of self-loathing, he’d forgotten that Nic and Jack were still there, until he heard Nic’s low voice just off to his right. “I knew this was going to be about Lucas,” the guy muttered, his tone thick with disgust.

  “Yeah?” He kept his head down and popped his jaw. “You read minds now, Nic?”

  “Don’t need to, Jonah. You’re like an open book.”

  His shoulders shook with a bitter, breathless laugh. Yeah, he was an open book all right. He just wished he’d been able to read ahead so that he could kick his own ass before becoming an even bigger fuck-up than he’d already been.

  “You going after her?” Jack asked.

  “God, no.”

  “Fucking idiot,” Nic snarled, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him around. “You care about her, Jonah. Why the hell are you pushing her away?”

  “Fuck off,” he growled, fighting to control his temper. The last thing he wanted was to get physical with Nic. The guy already had enough demons beating on him.

  “Why?” Nic demanded, getting right in his face. “Because you know I’m right?”

  “I know you wouldn’t have handled it any better than I did!”

  Nic smirked as he snorted. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But you know what the difference is between us?”

  He glared, waiting for the bastard to enlighten him.

  “I haven’t found her yet. The one. And I’ve got a strong fucking feeling that you have, bro.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but what could he say? He knew damn well, in every goddamn cell of his body, that Jocelyn was different to him. That she actually meant something to him, and he’d just… Jesus, he didn’t even want to think about it.

  Nic took a step back, shaking his head in disappointment. “And now you’ve fucking lost her.”

  Shit. His chest felt like someone had just taken a sledgehammer to it, the pain making him breathe so hard he sounded like he’d been running a goddamn marathon.

  “You got anything to say?” he muttered, jerking his chin at Jack, who was just standing there, looking at him with so much pity it made his stomach roil.

  “Naw, man,” Jack murmured. “I think Nic said it perfectly. You really are a fucking idiot.”

  They left then, leaving him alone with nothing but his demons for company. Breathing hard, he strode across the room, twisted the lock on the door, and headed straight for the bureau. Jerking open the middle panel, he snatched the new bottle of Jack out and headed back over to the same spot, sliding down onto his ass with his back against the glass.

  He twisted off the cap, tilted the bottle up to his lips, and let the burn of the liquor sliding down his throat keep him occupied, drowning out the shouting in his head. Then he took another drink. And another. But it didn’t take long to realize there wasn’t enough liquor in the world to quiet the shit he could hear echoing around in his skull.

  Things he’d said…

  Things she’d said…

  And all the goddamn things he’d wanted to say, but didn’t have the balls to.

  Setting down the bottle of Jack between his legs, he braced his elbows on his spread knees and squeezed his skull between his hands, wishing he could just crush it. God, he was such a twisted son of a bitch. And he had no one to blame for it but himself. Yeah, he had a screwed-up past. But who didn’t? He was the one who’d decided the answer to his pain was to close himself off emotionally from anyone he planned on letting get anywhere close to his dick, and now look at him.

  Alone. Sitting on his floor in the middle of the workday, doing his best to wash it all away with alcohol. Christ, if that didn’t scream winner, what did?

  His cell phone started buzzing on his desk, but he ignored it. It was most likely another text from Christina, who’d been blowing up his phone all week, wanting to know when he was going to hit the Diamond—his stage of preference at Vane—with her and her boyfriend again.

  That place… Fuck! He was half tempted to just get up and drag his sorry ass the five blocks that separated Atlas from his dirty little pastime. Just shed his clothes and lose himself in as much pussy and dick as he could tak
e.

  But his ass stayed glued to the floor, and fuck if he knew what to do with that. After a while, though, the panic that had been clawing at his chest slowly loosened its hold, replaced by a sharp, burning sense of clarity, and he finally admitted why he hadn’t run off to Vane. Ever since the night he and Gabe had shared Denny, the place had begun to lose its shine to him. But it wasn’t his best friend’s woman that had caused the change, because he’d known from the beginning that Denny belonged to Gabe. It was more the experience of witnessing, firsthand, how powerful sex could be between two people who truly cared about one another. About that emotional connection, and how it’d thrown into such sharp contrast the one-dimensional encounters he had at Vane

  And, hell, even if Gabe hadn’t been in the picture and Jonah had tried to get serious with Den, it would have never worked. Yeah, he’d have kept things going for a while, until he grew restless and pushed her away, same as he always did with any woman he tried to get close to.

  But with Jocelyn, it wasn’t a case of trying. It was a case of fucking having to or he was gonna go out of his goddamn mind.

  And now he’d completely destroyed it.

  He didn’t know how many hours had passed, or how much whiskey he’d downed, when his office door was unlocked and Gabe walked in, shutting the door behind him. Jonah could tell by the rigid way his best friend was holding himself that the guy was pissed.

  “And to what do I owe this esteemed visit?” he asked, as Gabe strode toward him.

  When five or so feet stood between them, Gabe stopped, shoved his hands in his front pockets, and gave a tired sigh. “I heard about your eventful morning.”

  “Fucking gossipers,” Jonah muttered, setting the bottle of Jack down at his side. He was surprised by how much was still left in the bottle, since he’d planned on downing a good portion of it. But he’d apparently gotten caught up in his head somewhere along the way, and had forgotten to keep drinking. “Which one was it?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  He lifted his head, and a hard, bitter laugh rumbled up from his chest. “Like hell it doesn’t. If guys like us can’t trust our friends to keep their goddamn mouths shut, then we’re fucked.”