Winning the Game

by Leesa Bow

  Opened something for sure.

  My heart is pounding so hard my pulse thrums behind my ears. My skin is hot, and I’m scratching my arms, thinking …

  I switch off the television so I can clear my mind to think of an excuse to visit the set.

  I’m still thinking of an excuse an hour later while driving to the hotel.

  Rash? Yes. I no longer care. Rhett will listen to me, as his mentor … who happens to be his girlfriend.

  TORI

  Meet you in the lobby. I need to talk to you.

  After sending the text, the repercussions of being caught cross my mind. I park fifty metres from the main gate, away from the security cameras. Considering it’s nearly ten, I’m not surprised to find the hotel shrouded in darkness. I punch in a code at the side gate to gain entrance into the grounds. Coloured garden lights glow along the sandstone path, lighting the way to the main entrance. To my right the vans and trucks are in darkness, except for a flickering light coming from inside Ethan’s van. I keep to the pathway along the western fence, lined with tall eucalypts and native shrubs, not at all like the pretty, exotic plants of the central gardens leading to the main entrance.

  It’s so eerily quiet it almost gives me chills. I’m twenty metres away when I reach into my clutch to locate my security card to the main entrance.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I jump at the sound of Rhett’s muffled voice. He’s standing by one of the gum trees, and in the dark I barely see him.

  “I told you in the text I need to speak to you about your behaviour on screen.” He steps towards me, takes my hand, and gently pulls me off the path and into the garden bed. In a quick swoop I’m in Rhett’s arms and, for a heartbeat, he’s kissing me, softly and tenderly. He smells fresh, a hint of citrus. I’m lost in the trees, in his smell, and the taste of mint on his breath.

  Yet his precaution raises alarm bells in my head and I struggle to find a valid excuse for why I’m here. “Do you have any idea how shocking it looked that you were almost fucking Emma on a day bed. Clothes or not,” I whisper.

  Even in the dark, I perceive his expression as a pointed look. “You said you trusted me.”

  “This is not about us. You looked like your … old self.”

  The dark doesn’t hide the whites of his eyes, now more noticeable. “Keep your voice down. Do you want us to be found?” he whispers, yet the accusation is there.

  “No,” I whisper. “It’s just that …” I lower my gaze.

  “Hey.” A strong hand rubs my arm. “It happened over a week ago,” he explains in a gentler tone. “Emma told Paige she thought I wasn’t interested and wanted to pull out. She felt ostracised by the other girls. I was showing her I cared for her, as much as the other girls.”

  “You could have used words,” I offer.

  “Words.” Rhett rubs his hand along his chiselled jaw. “You know what they say about action speaking louder than words.”

  I’m aware of the phrase, and sure; one look from Rhett could excite a girl in seconds. I let out a sigh.

  Rhett’s strong arms tighten around my waist. “You’re jealous.” It’s not a question.

  “Not at all. In fact I—”

  “Where’s your car?” he says against my lips.

  “Fifty metres down the road.” Suddenly I’m being pulled through the trees, around thick shrubs scratching my shins. “6359#,” I say when we reach the gate.

  The gate swings open and then we’re striding toward my car. “Back seat,” he says, when the car beeps. Residential homes are thirty metres away, down either side of the road. It’s late and no one is around.

  A nearby street lamp casts light like a candlelit dinner. It’s oddly romantic, despite our desperation. We kiss, and tear at each other’s clothes, getting naked in the shortest time possible. In the moment, the confined space of my medium-size sedan is not a problem. Elbows bump seats and doors. Then I’m straddling his hips.

  I pause and take in the man before me. My hand traces over ripped abs, hard curves, and rounded shoulders. He’s watching me, his eyes glowing like onyx. I reach up and touch his beautiful face, stroke his cheek with the tips of my fingers.

  His eyes close as he leans his face into my hand. Then his hands lift me to raise my hips. I feel the tip of his cock nudging my clit. I moan and sink, taking all of him. Rhett slides his rear over the leather to adjust his position to move with me. His action is slow, controlled. I groan and lift my hips, needing more. Anchoring my hands to his neck, I’m clinging as desire floods my body. I stare into hooded eyes, blue fire, restraint slipping. He lets out a deep moan, thrusting into me, and the thrusting doesn’t stop. Tilting my head back I muffle a scream, too consumed with pleasure for further concern. Meeting his rhythm, I rock against him. Every stroke, every kiss, we nip and tug, pushing each other to a dangerous edge in unrelenting lust. Like addicts, we search for our ecstasy within the other’s body. I’m almost there. He quickens the pace. My sensual spirit soars higher. Behind my eyes I shatter into bright colours. I gasp and Rhett covers my lips with his mouth, muffling the sound, and then I’m inhaling his ragged breath as he comes, stilling after a final deep thrust.

  “Fuck, Tor. That was amazing.”

  “Yeah.” Even my feet tingle. We stay like this, holding each other, and I don’t want to let him go. He moves beneath me. Time is not our friend. Rhett helps me up, and I’m sitting beside him, staring at his semi erect dick as he pulls me into his chest. The pleasure fades in record time, because my whole body freezes over.

  “You didn’t wear a condom.” I gasp and move away.

  “No, but we’ve spoken about this before and you said you were on the pill.”

  “Yes but … fuck.” My throat tightens. My thoughts are back to the Bahamas.

  Rhett jerks. “What? I’m clean. You know that.”

  No. This can’t be happening. “I never have unprotected sex. Nothing is fool proof,” I say too loud. “So bloody irresponsible.”

  We both balk when a light flashes. Rhett turns to the door and then the bright flash captures his expression … and bare skin.

  “Fuck!” He uses his body to cover mine. He protects my face and naked body from the camera. More flashes light the car interior before footsteps scurry away. His chest heaves, his breath hot on my face. It’s not until he lifts his head from my shoulder to check it’s safe that I realise how much he’s crushing me.

  It all happened so fast that only now does the panic really set in. My throat burns, and I think I’m going to cry.

  I inhale sharply. “Is he gone?” I croak.

  “Appears so,” he snaps. Rhett is up and dressing quickly. “Fuck!” he says again.

  “I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

  He takes my face in his. “It’s not your fault. I just hope it was some kid.” His hands fall to his sides as he shakes his head. “Because how? Who knows I’m here?”

  “Why do you think it was a kid?” I say, confused.

  Rhett picks up my crumpled jacket from the floor near his feet. “Because he had a hood over his head. And it was a phone camera.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders relax a little.

  “Hopefully he doesn’t know who I am.”

  I’m clothed again, yet I still feel naked. Exposed. So I can only imagine how Rhett is feeling, knowing a kid’s damn prank could undo all his hard work at redeeming himself. I shudder, realising the position I’ve put him in, and curse myself for getting jealous. If only I had stayed away.

  A scream from inside the grounds has us both jerking. Rhett shoots me a look. “Go,” he says in a gentle voice. He kisses my forehead. “Before the rest of the entourage get here. I’ll text you later.” Rhett darts out of the car and I watch him run toward the gate.

  I scramble from the back to the front seat. My bag is on the passenger seat, my keys beside it. I lower my head onto the steering wheel before starting the car. My gut clenches, thinking of the fallout if any of
this goes public. My eyes water and a sob escapes my throat.

  What the hell have I done?

  I haven’t acted this rash—carelessly and stupidly—since Tait.

  RHETT

  After leaving Tori with my heart sitting in my throat, I come upon Sally and Fleur in the central garden, and as I get closer I realise they’re high.

  Hell, I don’t need this shit right now. “Did you smoke a joint, Sal?” Her bloodshot eyes glaze over. “Sal? Who gave it to you?”

  She giggles. “Um. What?” She hands me the remains of a rollie. “This is hers.” Her gaze lowers to Fleur, picking at her fingers. She jitters more than Sally.

  “Fleur.” I hold up the rollie. “Who gave it to you?”

  “Do you think the kitchen will be open? I’m hungry,” Fleur moans. “Can we go get something to eat?” She’s unbuttoning her blouse, and I lurch forward to stop her.

  “What are you doing?”

  Fleur tugs at her clothes. “I’m hot. I’m really hot.”

  Sally giggles again. “Let’s go skinny dipping!” She pulls her tank top over her head. Round breasts bounce free and I grab her wrists, then pull her top down to cover her.

  “Fuck, Sal. Not cool. You girls need to get upstairs before Ingrid or Grant see you.” I tuck each girl under an arm. After a couple of paces, Fleur wriggles, struggling against my grasp.

  “No. Don’t touch me. I’m itchy.” Blonde strands stick to her face. Christ, she could be running a temperature.

  I blink, watching her dig her nails into her arms. “Have you ever smoked weed before?”

  She shakes her head vehemently, while scratching at her wrist.

  Shit. She might need medical attention, but I’m torn between doing the right thing and alerting Grant, or taking her to my room and waiting for her to settle down. The cameras will reveal her in my room, but the outcome might be better than divulging the truth. In her case.

  A light flickers in the window of Ethan’s van, catching my eye. The other four trailers are in darkness. “Stay here,” I demand, then sprint to his van. I rap on the door. The rickety door swings wide to a red-eyed Ethan. A god-awful smell wafts over me. “Je-sus.” I stop myself and curse, rather than finger pointing. “Fleur needs help. Now.”

  “What’s wrong with her, man?” He zips up the fly to his jeans, and I avoid peering into his van in case he has company.

  “You should know going by the smell in here.” I run ahead to make sure both girls are where I left them. Sally is singing in a soft voice, looking up at the stars and twirling a piece of hair around a finger. Fleur is hunched over, coughing.

  Resting my arm gently on Fleur’s back I make little circles. “You okay?”

  “It’s because of you they’re like this,” Ethan spits out in a gruff tone. “Sally saw footage of Lucy and you on the boat and feels cheated. Because Fleur is the last to have a family visit, she thinks you might evict her before it happens. Thinks you’re not interested. Sally agreed with her and said you show Fleur the least attention.”

  “And you know this because?” I glare at Ethan. “Didn’t happen to give them a joint by any chance?”

  “This isn’t on me, mate.”

  “It will be if Fleur has an allergic reaction.”

  Ethan goes rigid. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Take Sally. Get her to her room. Check she’s okay.”

  “She will be. She takes the stuff all the time. When I questioned her about barfing in the loo every night—” I shoot him a look “—cameras—she said she’d been suffering withdrawals. Thought I was helping her. Tonight’s the first time she asked for two joints and brought someone else to my van—”

  Fleur throws up over the garden bed of petunias. I pat her back before turning back to Ethan. “I’m not going to get into it with you. Get Sally to her room. Do it quietly so no one sees you. I’ll take care of Fleur.”

  Fleur leans into my side. My arm is wrapped around her so she stays close to me. Guiding her through the main doors, we head to the elevator. I don’t bother looking up at the camera.

  Close to midnight. I know what it will look like. So I make sure Fleur’s face is partially obscured by angling her away from the camera. “Where are we going?” she mumbles once we’re inside the lift.

  “To your room.” I bend so she can hear me. “Sh.” The weight of her head pushes against my shoulder. Shit. “We’re almost there. You can do it,” I whisper.

  “I’m so tired,” she mutters.

  The lift opens and I walk her along the long hallway to her room. “Where’s your key?”

  Fleur retrieves her entry card from inside her bra and hands it to me. When we’re inside, I guide her to the bathroom. “I’ll wait out here. Bring out some body lotion when you’re done.” She stumbles in and closes the door without question.

  Fleur’s room is neat, and what I expected. I open her cupboard to clothes hanging in coloured sections, with no sign of nightwear. Closing the cupboard, I contemplate what to do. I grab two glasses of water and place one on each of the bedside tables. I’m going to have to make this look like an act of seduction more than a babysitting service, so I pull back the covers and strip down to my boxers.

  Ingrid is going to have a field day with this footage.

  I’m under the bed covers by the time Fleur reappears. Her gaze lands on me, wide-eyed. “I’m going to stay with you. Okay?”

  “Yes but won’t—”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re worth it.” I smile and pull back the covers on her side. Nothing we have said will reveal the truth.

  She strips down to a navy bra and modest white panties before climbing in beside me. Thank fuck there’s nothing sexy about her underwear. It’s only now I realise how thin she is, with her ribs protruding beneath her bra. I pull her into my side and kiss her forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She doesn’t settle. Instead, Fleur scratches her arms and moans.

  “Did you get the cream?”

  “Yeah.” She leans towards the table, sees the water and empties the glass before grabbing the tube. She hands it to me.

  I’m watching her as I squeeze the cream into my hand. “This might help cool you down. Try not to say much,” I whisper. “Cameras.”

  She stares at me for a moment before nodding. “I’m sorry.”

  Turning onto my elbow, I press a finger to her lips. “Not another word. Okay?” She nods, then I kiss her on the lips. The coy way she kisses me back is tender, sweet and innocent. With a quick couple of pecks I pull away, not wanting to string her along. This is about Fleur feeling good about herself, not a make-out session. “Give me your wrist.” She lifts her hand and I massage the lotion into her wrists and up her arm.

  Fleur’s eyelids flutter. “That feels good,” she whispers.

  After a few minutes her breathing changes to a heavy, slow rhythm. I keep the charade going a little longer by brushing her short hair away from her face and kissing her nose, then her forehead. Lying on my side so I’m looking at Fleur, I stroke the side of her pretty face. When I’m sure she’s asleep I turn out the light and roll onto my back to stare up at fragments of light dancing on the ceiling.

  My thoughts flash back to Tori, to what happened in the car, and her reaction.

  My stomach plunges when I think about the kid with the camera. As bad as it is, my thoughts are stuck on Tori freaking out about me not using a condom. Christ, she said she took contraception, so what was her problem? Does she think I’m a bloody whore? That I’d really put her health in jeopardy by having unprotected sex without regular check-ups? My gut clenches, remembering the disgusted look on her face. There has to be more to it. Then I remember her reaction when we first met, how she said she knew my type. She had actually thought I was a bonehead, who slept around. An idiot.

  Letting out a long sigh, I accept it’s going to be a long night, because there’s no way I’ll get any sleep wound this tightly. It’s probably a good thing, in case Fleur need
s to barf again.

  I’m going to be here for her. It’s the least I can do.

  Over the past few weeks, there have been moments where I’ve been completely lost for words, realising what these girls have given up to have a shot at love with me.

  Fleur was dealt a shitty hand when her husband left her with nothing, after gambling away their memories, and her trust. I doubt she even trusts me. But the courage it’s taken for her to be here is admirable. So, yeah, I owe her tonight. I want her to see I’m not another bastard and do genuinely care for her. I care for all the girls, only not in the way they hope.

  So I guess I’m a bastard after all.

  The phone rings at six, stirring Fleur from a deep sleep. Her eyes flutter open and it takes her a moment to register. The phone stops ringing. It’s not my place to answer her phone.

  “Hi,” I say, sliding strands of hair away from her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  Fleur licks her lips. Her eyelids close slowly, before opening in awareness. “Okay. Kind of.” She looks down as she lifts the top sheet. “Did we?”

  “No.” I roll over, like I’m cuddling her in the morning, for the cameras. Tori had mentioned the cameras would capture everything, but the sound is of poor quality, which is why they like us to wear our microphones around the hotel. “No one needs to know the truth,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll get reprimanded for spending the night in your room, but the cameras will reveal that nothing happened between us. I can handle a slap on the wrist.” I kiss her cheek. “More importantly, you’re okay. And I needed to stay with you to make sure of it.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “But we will have a little chat sometime about why you thought you needed to do this.” Fleur lowers her eyes, and her cheeks flush with colour. “Are we good, me and you?”

  She nods, still avoiding my gaze.

  “We should get up, because that was your wake up call. If you’re okay, I’ll head back to my room.”