Bad Game: A Geeky New Adult Romance (Leveling Up In Love Book 2)

by Kat Alex Crystal

  “It’s not for me. It’s for you. His mom is a sucker for rom coms and fried chicken. So you can have some time without interruptions for the state that you’re in.”

  “What state am I in?”

  “Seems like half past bust-down-his-door and a quarter to knock-some-sense-into-him, if you ask me. Which you did. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m going there to find out.”

  Chapter 12

  Nick opened his eyes, no idea what time it was. His desk lamp cast a tiny amount of illumination in the dark room. It could have been midnight. It could have been noon. He was in a dungeon of his own making—and not the fun kind. No, not ever again. Darkness had stolen happiness from him, and now he didn’t think he’d ever get out.

  How long had he been in bed? How long had he been asleep? It didn’t matter.

  What had woken him up? A more interesting question.

  The door to his basement abode creaked open. “Nick!” Mom called.

  “What.” He barely made the effort for her to hear him.

  “Uh, your girlfriend—and your ex-girlfriend?—are here to see you.”

  He lurched upright, glancing around in panic. Bottles were scattered across the dresser. Where was his shirt? His usually tousled hair was outdoing itself. He hadn’t bathed. Or brushed his teeth. Or—what the hell was Penny doing here? And did that mean she was with Ashley?

  Maybe they were here to kill him. Or at least beat him senseless for senseless cruelty.

  It only seemed fair.

  But only one set of soft footsteps made their way down the stairs. Penny appeared at the bottom, shucking her coat and sky blue scarf at the foot of his bed as he hauled himself to a seat at the edge. The world lurched. He couldn’t have been asleep that long, because he was still somewhat drunk. He ran a hand through his hair. No, stop it, that’s probably only making it worse.

  “This isn’t exactly how I imagined you seeing my room.” He peered up at her warily.

  “Nick. You look like hell.” Her frowning eyes skimmed across his face. His bare chest. He could feel attraction crackle between them. He wanted to pop the buttons on that white dress shirt of hers and bury his face in pale lace.

  But he couldn’t. Never again. “I’ll bet,” he grumbled instead.

  “What the heck is going on?”

  “I…” How could he explain? Did he explain what happened? Somehow he didn’t think Cass would want Penny to know. He swallowed. No, he should probably play along. Finish the job. Let her go. Like a man. Shut up and handle the pain. Let her go on to greener pastures. “You shouldn’t be here, Penny,” he said softly.

  “Why not?” She strode over to him, stopping just short of him and propping her hands on her hips. He looked up at her, like a kid in trouble with his teacher. She even had the wardrobe for the part.

  He swallowed, searching for words as he gazed up into her frowning blue eyes, but he found nothing. The alcoholic haze wasn’t helping. He could smell her, all sweetness and baked goods. The image of her on her bed limned by the moon sprung back to his mind, twisting the knife.

  “Why aren’t you answering my calls? My texts?”

  He shook his head. What could he say to that?

  “Damn it, what happened?”

  “I can’t talk about it,” he finally mustered. She bent down, bringing her face close to his, angelic and intoxicating. “I can’t… God, you’re so… Oh, Penny.”

  He wanted to pull her close, press his cheek to her stomach, breathe her in. He hung his head in his hands.

  She frowned harder. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “I never deserved you.”

  Her voice sharpened. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “How many bottles are on the desk?”

  “Nick! That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s taken most of the weekend, if it makes you feel any better.”

  “Have you had any water?”

  “What? No.”

  She grabbed a nearby glass of clear liquid. “Here, drink this.”

  “That’s not water, that’s jus’ cheap vodka, it’s just so terrible I haven’t drunk it. Yet.”

  “Where’s the bathroom?”

  He pointed weakly across the basement. She took the glass with her, dumped it in the sink, and refilled it with water before forcing the cup into his hand.

  “Drink it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She shook her head. “Nick, don’t you think we belong together?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “No, you deserve someone much better than me.”

  “Don’t I get to decide that?” Her voice could cut glass now.

  “Well, of course, but…”

  “Then why would you listen to Cass and stop texting me?”

  His eyes widened, a bit of the drunkenness vanishing. “You—you talked to her?”

  “Yes. I can’t believe her. Or you.”

  He hung his head. “See. You deserve better.”

  “I will be the judge of that.”

  “Don’t you wonder at all if she’s right? She’s your sister.”

  “So what? That makes her an expert in what I need? Let me tell you, she’s rolling a one at this point. This is a complete failure.”

  “No, Penny. She’s right. You deserve someone who can provide for you. Somebody rich. A neurosurgeon. James Bond. I don’t know.” Maybe he wasn’t sobering up after all.

  “Most of James Bond’s girlfriends end up dead, you do realize.”

  “Okay, not him. But definitely someone rich.”

  “Like Cass’s husband? Who never comes home?”

  “Working hard, I’m sure.”

  “She thinks he’s cheating on her. Gave me a lecture on how men are so fickle.”

  His mouth fell open. Hadn’t expected her to say that.

  “Look, I bothered to get this stupid accounting degree. I can provide for myself. I can provide for us both, in fact, while we get our dreams off the ground. My mom and my sister don’t know what will make me happy. They don’t even know what makes them happy. They put all the emphasis on money. And yes, it’s important. But they’re also miserable.”

  Her voice softened as she spoke, and she sank beside him on the bed. His eyes followed hers like he was lost at sea and she was the only star in the sky.

  “You taught me there are more important things than just money. And I guess I always knew that, but I just didn’t have the courage to stand up for it.”

  She lifted a hand and ran a finger over his jaw, soft as satin. Then she leaned forward and covered his lips with hers.

  Of their own accord, his hands reached for her.

  Her lips parted beneath his, and he dove into her. She was cool water in a desert, and he a madman, lost and parched and desperate.

  Her hands touched his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed, and he collapsed down. The shadow of her soft, round curves rose up over him, her knees on either side of him, straddling him, powerful.

  Something clicked, followed by the feeling of cold metal against one wrist.

  “Penny? What the—”

  She raised his entrapped wrist above his head, then his free wrist. He didn’t resist her, to his own surprise. She circled the cold metal around the wood of the bed frame and clicked it tight around his free hand.

  A thrill shot through him.

  “Penny, whoa, whoa, slow down,” he whispered. He gasped as her lips tickled his throat. “My mom’s—”

  “Upstairs with White You Were Sleeping, a bucket of KFC, and Ashley.”

  He jerked once against the restraint now. “Ashley?”

  “Yeah.” Her hot breath danced across his collar as her lips reached the neck of his shirt. “What do you know, turns out she’s a good friend after all.”

  Her hands reached under his shirt, sending shivers through him as her nails dragged against his stomach, up to his chest. Her lips danced across h
im, leaving a trail of lightning behind them as she made her way up to his ear. He let out a ragged breath.

  Her lips brushed his ear lobe. He gasped as her teeth nibbled it, her tongue darting out in a quick swirl.

  “I think you may have been a bad boy, Nick Markov,” she whispered.

  A spark of desire flew through him, and he arched under her, hungry to feel his body against hers. And not just because of her breath tickling his ear.

  “I thought I was doing what you would have wanted. Respecting your family’s wishes.”

  She bit his ear again, harder this time, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “You thought I would give you up just because they told me to?” Penny’s face rose over him.

  “She seemed to have some valid points that you’d be better off without me.”

  “She seems full of shit, if you ask me. And since I’m the one who handcuffed you to the bed…” She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Guess that makes me right.”

  “You gave up your art. I thought for sure I didn’t—”

  She crushed his mouth with hers, cutting off the words, her tongue diving even as her fingers went for his belt. Except with pajamas, no belt was necessary. “Mmm,” she purred. “Easy access.”

  “Wait—” He tried to reach for her, but the cuffs caught against the bed frame.

  She stopped, bringing her face over his again, eyes boring into his darkness. “I want you, Nick. And only you. Not James Bond.”

  Something in him quivered at those words, words he’d never expected to hear again. But he hadn’t stopped her, so she could profess her undying love to him. “Pen, I’m really sorry. I should have talked to you about what Cass said first.”

  She smiled, then shook her head, sudden mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Told you you’ve been a bad boy. But apology accepted.” Her hand reached for his waistband again, then tickled the trail of hair that led below.

  “Wait—wait—tell me. How’d my handcuffs get to your place?”

  “Those are my handcuffs. I bought them, got them out so we could use them.”

  His eyes widened. “You bought handcuffs? That’s so sweet. And so, so hot.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned. “Now can we continue?”

  He glanced up at the cuffs, then back at her uneasily. “You sure about this?”

  “Did you know there are people that like both, Nick?”

  “Both what?”

  “Both top and bottom. Switches. Want to find out if you’re one?”

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  But even as her lips brushed his neck again, he already knew the answer.

  He shuddered as her hand drifted lower, and she closed her hand around his length. His hips rebelled, pushing toward her, pumping, aching for her.

  “Down, tiger,” she whispered.

  He eased himself back to the bed as she tightened her grip, then let her fingers wander across his stomach, swirl the trail of hair that led south. His skin was alive, electric under her hands. The biting, cold metal against his wrists was reassurance, was power, was surrender…

  Was everything.

  “Are you sure—” His eyes flicked toward the stairs.

  “Yes, I’m very sure. Now shut up.”

  Her teeth nipped at his neck, then his shoulder, delicate twists of pain. Then she stood and shucked off her pants. He caught a glimpse of smiling strawberries on her underwear before they vanished into the darkness. She bent down eased his pajamas and boxers down over his hips, waiting for his help. His cock, when it finally escaped its flannel prison, bounced up as if to say, Hello there! He snorted.

  Smiling, she knelt on the bed, gathering his blankets for cover, shifting till she straddled him. Warmth radiated from her as she lowered herself. Slick warmth brushed his cock. So ready, so soon… She’d missed him.

  “Penny, what if they come down. There’s no hiding this. I—”

  “Shh.” She closed her fingers over his mouth, and he inhaled sharply at the blast of arousal that shot through him. “In fact, I think you’re overthinking this.” She leaned toward the end of his bed and grabbed her discarded scarf as he panted for breath.

  Then suddenly she was tying it over his eyes. Touch and smell and taste took over the world. A shiver ripped through him, electric with need for her. He tensed and squirmed, trying to reach her skin against his. She waited, silent and unmoving until he stilled. He imagined she was smiling.

  “Now, would you say I’m capable of making my own choices?”

  “Of course.”

  She rewarded hum with a kiss, her tongue sweet and minty and aggressive against his. “Good ones, even?”

  “You know I do.”

  A foil wrapper ripped open, and he unintentionally jerked against the handcuffs. He flexed against the bed frame as her deft fingers rolled the condom on.

  Please, God, let his mother stay uncurious and selfish with the fried chicken for at least fifteen more minutes. He really needed his own apartment.

  His stomach twisted with nerves, the air cool on his skin. He was dying to reach for her, aching.

  “Then don’t forget this is my decision,” she whispered, breath tickling his neck.

  He nodded, the gesture feeling woefully inadequate. Her fingers caressed his cheek, combed through his beard a few times, and then curled over his mouth again. At the same time, she lowered herself over him.

  He gasped for air against her fingers. The world was reduced to her and only her. Her cinnamon roll scent, her molten body overtaking his, the tightness clenching his wrists, his mouth, his cock. And she moved so deliciously, slow like honey, her mouth peppering his shoulders and chest with soft nips.

  He might just die. It was too intense. He couldn’t take it.

  Her fingers dug into the back of his neck, then his right shoulder as she rode him, picking up speed. The soft peaks of her nipples brushed his chest. He could barely keep up, barely survive. She might disagree, but he was definitely sure he didn’t deserve his mind blown this thoroughly, not after what he’d done.

  My decision… Her words floated back. Right.

  Senses half starved for her, he didn’t know how it happened or what her other hand was doing, but he managed to sustain himself until he heard a soft velvet gasp. He knew that gasp all too well.

  Her core quaked around him, her arm slung around his neck now for balance. Perfection. He arched into her, the bed frame convulsing in time with his thrusts.

  Blood slowing, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, her hair whispering across his chest. There was something precious in that moment, something that he wanted to pull close and hold onto forever.

  They panted against each other, sweat slicked across their skin, until he felt her shoulders start to shake.

  “Penny? What is it?” He frowned, still trying to catch his breath.

  “I was the one to chain Markov to the bed, not the other way around.” She giggled softly and pulled the scarf down off his eyes. Her skin was flushed and glowing, eyes bright. How had he thought he could live without her?

  He blinked at her, smiling in the darkness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Math joke. I’ll explain later.”

  Nick was still not completely sober when he piled into Ashley’s car with Pen. He was getting there, though. Which was good, because otherwise he would have thought this entire situation was a dream.

  Ash dropped them off at Penny’s, and he followed her upstairs in a daze. A relieved, relaxed, grateful daze that he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up from.

  “We’re home,” she said as she stopped in front of her door.

  We’re home. Those were good words, spoken without any hesitation. He followed her inside.

  She shut the door and locked it. “So, what should we do now? Make something to eat, watch a movie, go back to bed…” Her eyes twinkled.

  “Are you kidding me? Once was definitely not enough.” He grabbed her hand and pulle
d her toward her bed. While You Were Sleeping had barely lasted two hours. They had some catching up for lost time to do. And new sexual modes to explore.

  Later, as she drifted in and out of sleep, he lay there—awake and sober now and marveling. How could this really have worked out?

  As the evening faded, she finally stirred, propping herself up on an elbow under the sheets beside him. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  “We had some things we needed to talk about. Before even all this happened.”

  A soft smile lit her face. “Handcuff sorts of things?”

  “Yes. And what you talked about with Ashley.”

  She threw a hand over her face. “Gosh, that seems so long ago now.”

  “I’d rather leave Ash in the past. But I do wonder what you talked about.”

  “She was pretty determined to tell me about your past sex life. And hers. I mostly cut her off. But maybe you should tell me so she doesn’t get the chance to spoil the surprise. Although I have my guesses at this point.”

  He raised his eyebrows at the twinkle in her eyes. “Okay, that’s a fair point. Well, let’s see. Ash was, uh, creative in bed. I had a point where I was very, very ready to give up my virginity, and—”

  “I know the feeling.” She smiled.

  “You do? Anyway, she was way, way over my head. It seemed only open-minded of me to try what she wanted me to. Trying new things, that’s what college is about, right?” He fidgeted with the sheet that covered her, then inched a little closer. “I figured maybe after a while I’d like it.”

  “You didn’t like ‘it’ at first?”

  “Some, yes. Some, no. She can be very… domineering.”

  “She mentioned that.”

  “Did she. Well, she had her domineering moods. But not always. Things started to get really… complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “Well, I had my domineering moments too.”

  “I’ll bet!”

  He stifled a laugh.

  “But she could never let go. She had to be in control of those too.” The truth was that ultimately Ash was always the one in control. She could be tied up, and she’d still be the catalyst, barking orders. There had been days early on when he’d thought he’d liked it, but for some reason, those feelings had stopped. “She’d still be giving orders, even if on the surface it might have seemed like I was in control. And that was… not for me, I guess? But I couldn’t get her to stop it. She didn’t care.”