Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Kane edged toward the car.

  Hurt flashed across Julie’s face, but it vanished again so quickly it could have been a trick of the light.

  “We’re not abandoning Julie.” Exhaustion crept into Andi’s voice.

  It was time to wrap this up. “I promise we’ll take care of her.” Christopher braced himself for an argument from Julie.

  “Meet me at the bakery in the morning, and we’ll make plans.” Julie reached into the car to squeeze Andi’s good shoulder.

  That was easier than he expected. Christopher wasn’t complaining.

  The moment Isaiah pulled the car away, Julie’s fidgeting returned, complete with the tapping of her fingers against her bouncing leg.

  Christopher wasn’t surprised she couldn’t hold still, but expecting the reaction didn’t make it any easier to see Julie dealing with it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Since Julie rode with Christopher, the drive home left Dante alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He fluctuated between being furious about another delay, suspicious about the string of disasters, feeling guilty for the anger, and worrying about Andi’s hand and Julie’s mental state.

  He cranked up the music on his phone, and it blared through the car stereo. On any other day, the hammering beat and electric guitar would help him focus. It wasn’t doing the trick tonight.

  A ring chimed in his ears, blaring from the speakers, and he reached to turn down the volume out of instinct. “Answer,” he said to the air. At least a phone call would be a distraction.

  “How long did you think you could keep something like an exploding fucking airbrush from me?” Nash’s angry question assaulted Dante.

  He shouldn’t have taken the call. Fuck it all. “Great to hear from you, too.” Dante let sarcasm ooze from his response.

  “Don’t screw with me on this.” Nash was speaking loud enough it throbbed in Dante’s eardrums. “How much does this delay shooting?”

  God, Dante hated this man. “One of the women injured her hand. Heavy burns. She’ll recover, by the way, and appreciates your concern.”

  “Don’t answer me, then. That’s great. I’ll get my information from the production crew. I only wanted to tell you one thing. If the scheduled footage isn’t ready to go by your deadline, there’s no rescheduling. We’ll preempt the bakery’s episode with something else, and they won’t have another chance. You may not either.”

  Dante had zero patience for this after the day he had, and he’d had it easy compared to everyone else. “That’s fantastic, Nash. Glad to hear it. I’m so grateful you called, and if you happen to go fuck yourself before your evening is up, I hope you enjoy it.” He disconnected before Nash could respond, and slammed his fist into the steering wheel several times, letting his frustrated screams bounce back at him.

  By the time he got home, he’d vented into the empty air enough that his mind was numb and his throat raw. Christopher’s car was already there.

  Dante made his way into the house.

  Julie was pacing in the living room. Big surprise. He hated to see her like this; it made him twitchy. A tiny voice in the back of his head asked if it was because he was worried, but he was too spent, mentally, to deal with that.

  She whirled to face him. “Tell him”—she nodded at Christopher— “to stop hovering and let me get to planning for tomorrow.”

  “You can’t make any final decisions without Andi,” Dante said.

  “No. But I can start mocking things up. Ads for new people. New schedules.”

  She was worn out—Dante understood that.

  Worried about her best friend—he was concerned about Andi too.

  Needed something to do—he felt that to his core.

  None of that logic helped yank him back from the edge he hovered on. He stepped toward Julie, warring with himself.

  “What is it exactly that you’re hoping to accomplish?” Dante’s words held a harshness he didn’t intend, but he didn’t have the strength to dial it back. “Do you want to spend the night working on a list of qualifications you’ll have to redo in the morning, once Andi can help? Or wear a rut in our rug with your pacing? We won’t get our security deposit back if you do that. Sit on the bed and stare at the wall and fume about everything you can’t do but desperately wish you could? What good is any of that going to do you?”

  She had her back pressed against the wall and stood nose to nose with him, unflinching. Terror and anger flashed in her eyes, and—fuck—that was sexy. “You’ve obviously got a firm grasp on how I should spend my time. What do you suggest?” Her lips were swollen and parted.

  “Fuck if I know.” Dante could only think of one thing he wanted to do. He crushed his mouth to hers. Frustration spilled through the kiss, blooming into need.

  Julie whimpered when he pressed his body to hers. She dug her fingers into his chest and ground against him, her hip teasing his cock.

  “As completely enticing as this is to watch”—Christopher shattered the moment—“it’s also a bad idea.”

  Dante stepped back from Julie, trying to put enough space between them to clear his head. He stopped about a foot away, when he realized being on the opposite side of the globe wouldn’t do that for him right now. Christopher had a point. There was too much emotion in the room, and it was all wrong. The confusion and lust on Julie’s face mirrored Dante’s thoughts. Things had to stay physical with her. Removed. Unemotional. The thick air in the room wasn’t affection, but it was as toxic.

  “What would it take to make it a good idea?” Julie licked her lips, and the sight traveled straight to Dante’s groin.

  “Nothing. There’s never a point where this is smart.” Christopher’s voice was heavy.

  Dante shook his head. “He’s right.” Because last time they thought it was okay to let things get emotional, Dante ended up divorced, and Christopher still blamed himself for it. Rachel would have left either way; she wasn’t happy being married to a man who had the nerve to admit she wasn’t the only attractive person in the world. Which Dante supposed was reasonable on some level, but didn’t work for him.

  “We should get some sleep,” Christopher said. “Long day tomorrow, and all that.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Irritation dripped from Julie’s words.

  Dante turned to him, ready to agree. Instead what came out was, “It’s an outlet.”

  “It’s stupid.” Christopher furrowed his brow. He wanted to have his mind changed.

  Dante knew him well enough to recognize that. “She’s not the same.”

  Christopher clenched his jaw. “Look me in the eye and tell me all of you believes this won’t end badly.”

  “I’m standing right here. I can hear you talking about me in the third person.” Julie’s voice carried from behind.

  *

  Christopher stared Dante down, searching for answers he wasn’t going to find. He ticked off pros and cons in his head. Or tried. Dante was right, though. Julie wasn’t Rachel. This wasn’t going to become a relationship, because they were all going their separate ways in a few weeks.

  Julie turned toward the bedrooms. “You two keep doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing. I’m going to bed.”

  “Wait.” Christopher snapped the word out before he could overthink his decision.

  Julie paused, her back to them.

  He stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her hips. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips along the outside of her ear.

  She hissed.

  “How do you feel about pain?” he asked.

  “As a general notion? I’m not fond of it.”

  Dante moved to stand in front of her. “No. As a very specific notion.” He scraped a nail down the side of her neck, along her collarbone, and over her chest, pulling away when he met the edge of her shirt. The journey left a faint white line. “Administered for a very specific purpose.”

  “When you put it that way,
I suppose the only way to find out is to try it,” Julie said.

  Christopher kissed along the back of Julie’s neck, up to her ear. Under most circumstances, he’d rather participate than watch, but Dante had a unique and delicious talent for administering punishment.

  Dante stripped off Julie’s shirt and bra with little fanfare. Christopher glided his hands up her ribs and over her breasts, barely touching skin, while Dante kissed her again. Each time Dante did that, Christopher’s blood surged hot and fast. It was as arousing to observe as to be a part of.

  In a flurry of limbs and groping, clothes were shed until every item lay on the floor and all three were naked.

  “Fucking gorgeous.” Christopher nipped at Julie’s earlobe. He skated his fingers up her spine, and she arched her back. Following the same path down, he glided between her legs, along her inner thighs, drawing near her pussy, but not making contact.

  He saw Dante mimic the touch in front of her, circling her breasts, but bypassing her nipples. Dipping below her waist, then trailing back up to her stomach.

  Christopher would be disappointed he didn’t have the full-frontal view of Julie, but Dante, muscled and hard, was always an intoxicating sight.

  Julie reached for Dante, and Christopher grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back. She squirmed against his grip but didn’t try to pull away. With his free hand, he fisted his dick and teased the head over her ass cheek, leaving a faint trail of precum behind.

  It was tempting to bend her over now and thrust inside her. He wanted this to last, though.

  “Does this come with a blindfold again?” A hesitant quaver ran through Julie’s playful question.

  Dante shook his head. “No. This time you come without, because I want to look you in the eye.”

  “Is this another lesson in control? Or lack thereof?” Julie asked.

  “Control’s not my thing, but you can call it a lesson if you want. Mostly, this is me, pleased I’ve found a willing playmate for the evening.”

  Christopher grasped Julie’s hand and led her toward the bed. “Lie down.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She lay in the middle of the bed, posture stiff and arms pinned to her sides.

  Christopher traced a path along her body, resisting the urge to kiss down her breastbone and flick his tongue over her nipples. He raised her hands above her head and took the silk scarf Dante handed him.

  The slatted headboard was one of the selling points when they decided to rent this house furnished. Christopher looped the fabric around Julie’s wrists, then bound them to the wood.

  Would this be the candlewax kind of play or the belt? Christopher’s pulse throbbed in anticipation of the show and the unspoken promise he’d participate before the night was up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dante drank in Julie’s naked form with his gaze and fingers, studying her curves and trailing over her soft skin. Each time he brushed a sensitive spot, she twisted and moaned.

  As he spent more and more time with her in these intimate settings, it occurred to him he’d pushed her away for so long for two reasons—first, she was entirely too much like him, and second, he was infatuated with her, and admitting that terrified him.

  “Before we go further, you need to know how to stop me if this is too much,” Dante said. He should have covered that first, but she jumbled his thoughts, and he was willing to admit his dick was doing as much of his thinking as his brain.

  She licked her lips. “Like, a safe word or something?”

  “A lot like that, but nothing so complicated you’ll struggle to remember it tonight.” He dotted his nails along her body, then drew lazy, pale lines. “Yellow means you need me to slow down. For whatever reason—to catch your breath, to figure out if it’s too much...” He increased the pressure of his touch and dragged his fingertips up to her breasts. “Red means stop. Full on. No argument.” He pinched her nipple hard, twisted, and pulled.

  She let out a half-hiss, half-chuckle. “Yellow means slow, red means stop. I can remember that.”

  “Good.” Dante reached into the drawer of the bedside table, pulled out a candle, then grabbed the lighter that sat next to the lamp. He lit the wick.

  Julie sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as she eyed the dancing flame.

  “We haven’t even started yet.” Dante held the wax high above her body and drizzled a short path down the inside of her upper arm.

  She flexed her hands above her head. A faint smile danced on her lips.

  He risked moving lower, drawing a trail along her breastbone with soy wax. As he paused, to allow it to cool, Christopher leaned over the mattress and kissed along her breast, then sucked at her nipple. He pulled away long enough for Dante to lay a new line of melted red down to her stomach. They alternated—Dante painting her skin, and Christopher laying light touches and kisses in between. With each new application, she squirmed and whimpered, but never protested.

  Dante couldn’t pull his gaze from hers longer than it took to decorate the canvas of her skin. Her eyes shone bright, captivating him. The scent of burning wax mingled with her soft perfume, teasing his thoughts and racing over every nerve. Her hisses and moans were as intoxicating as fine liquor.

  He licked his fingers and pinched out the candle before setting it aside on a waiting saucer. He traced the inside of her thigh, light enough to tickle—an intentional contrast to the pain. He glided his palm up and dipped between her folds, slipping easily along the slick surface. She was as wet as he was hard. “What does it for you?” he asked, nudging her opening before moving away. “The sharp sting or the being watched by two pairs of eyes?”

  “All of it...” Her words melted into a groan when he slipped two fingers inside her and hooked them.

  Christopher sucked along her neck, while Dante worked his way up to her clit, to trace tiny circles.

  Dante was tired of dragging things out. He reached above her head and untied the slipknot of the scarf holding her arms in place. At the same time, he whispered in her ear, “I want to watch you ride me.”

  “I like that.” She sat up, rolling her shoulders. The dim light in the room reflected off the patterns of wax along her body and the hints of red that lay underneath. She was a stunning work of art.

  He pulled two condoms from the drawer, handed one to Christopher, and rolled one on himself.

  Julie raised her brows at the exchange.

  Dante dove in to kiss her and gripped her hair tight, yanking and holding her captive at the same time. She bit his bottom lip. When she dug her nails into his chest, intense need blossomed over his skin.

  He rolled, tugging her with him, and she straddled his legs. The lamp cast an ethereal halo around her as she hovered over him. Her heat teased his cock, but she didn’t lower herself.

  The scent of sex mingled with the others filling the room. Dante burned it all into his thoughts as he glided his hands up her stomach, thumbs trailing over cold wax and knocking some loose.

  He traveled back down, to grip her hips, held tight and thrust up.

  Julie sank onto his shaft with a groan that sang to his soul. She rocked against him, eyes half closed and lips barely parted, to expose the tip of her tongue clenched between her teeth.

  Dante slid his palms to her back and pulled her forward, so her chest pressed into his. “Can you take a little or a lot more?”

  “I’m not sure.” She gave a breathy laugh. “But I’m willing to try.”

  The bed moved with the weight of a new person. Christopher had joined them. Seconds later, Julie squealed. Cold lube hit the base of Dante’s shaft, and Christopher spent a few extra moments teasing the sensitive skin before pulling his hand away.

  Dante spread Julie’s ass. She grimaced.

  “You all right?” Christopher asked.

  “Perfect.” Her voice was breathy.

  Dante felt Christopher enter her, slow and steady, until his balls rested against Dante’s.

  Dante thrust inside her again,
pumping against her slick walls, sinking into the stimulation of Christopher moving at a separate pace. Shifting to tilt his head up, Dante closed his lips around one of Julie’s nipples. He scraped the skin with his teeth, then flicked his tongue rapidly over the nub.

  Julie’s gasps grew more punctuated and increased in volume toward the melodic crescendo he’d remembered from the hotel. Her pussy clenched around Dante’s cock, in short bursts at first and then in rapid-fire spasms. She cried out when she came, digging her fingers into his arms hard enough there would probably be marks there in the morning.

  Her climax threatened to milk his orgasm from him, but Dante wanted to stretch this out as long as possible. When he heard Christopher’s familiar grunts of pleasure, felt the bounce of the mattress, and saw the rapid thrusts of his boyfriend’s hips, he knew Christopher had peaked as well.

  Dante couldn’t hold back any longer. He pounded hard and fast, head growing light. A blanket of velvet pinpricked with light danced behind his lids, and he lost himself in all of it as he came.

  The three collapsed in an awkward pile of limbs and heavy breathing. Dante bit playfully at Julie’s neck, reveling in the taste of salt on his tongue mixing with the scents in the room.

  She pulled away to roll off him, and a strange emptiness sank inside. Dante shooed it away. Now was the wrong time to get attached. Or to admit he already was.

  *

  Christopher marveled at how natural it felt for Julie to be lying between Dante and him. If he thought about it too much, he’d have to admit he wanted it to become a regular occurrence. Fortunately, the endorphins flooding his mind kept him from doing dangerous things like thinking. He could enjoy the moment for what it was—a snapshot in time.

  Julie sighed and pushed into a sitting position. It felt like they were only here a few minutes, but a glance at the clock told Christopher they’d all been curled up together for nearly an hour. “I need to check my phone,” she said.

  “That’s sweet. You’re tethered to your electronics.” Teasing filled Dante’s words, and no malice ran underneath.

  “I am, but that’s not why. I turned off my phone last night, and it freaked out Andi, so I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”