Flawed (Eternal Combat Book 0)

by Kitty Cox

  When he reached the game area, he saw her. From the moment his eyes slid over her shoulders, he knew she'd be perfect. Chestnut hair hung to the middle of her back, loose like a badge of honor. She turned her head to glare at the guy who'd just tried to caress her leg with a pool cue, and he took in the dark rusty lips and smoky black eyes. Behind thick, fake lashes were piercing green eyes, most likely contacts. She was making a point, not trying to recreate herself. Her makeup was a mask, and he loved her just a little for the honesty in her lies.

  She said something, the look on her face making it clear she was turning the fool down, and turned. Her white blouse hung open just a bit too much, the swell of her breasts more than ample. It fit tight across her body, showing her soft stomach and well-rounded hips. She was definitely curvaceous. Not the type of curves that models had; this woman had curves that fit a man's hands and the flesh to comfort them. Oh, she wasn't fat. She was beautiful and, from the way her eyes flashed, vicious.

  She'd be a challenge, or so he hoped. Chance tipped his bottle, tasting the bite of cheap beer, and leaned back against the wall to watch. His little fawn tried to return to her game of darts, but another guy saw his chance and stepped up. When she hit the edge of the cork target, he was ready to demonstrate how to do it better. The fawn didn't act like she cared. She handed over the three darts in her hand and turned away, looking for an escape. Her eyes roamed the crowd and fell on his.

  The corner of his lip lifted but he wouldn't look away. He also wasn't going to invade her space. Oh, not this beauty. The only way he'd catch her was if she thought she caught him. Her eyes flicked across him, trying to decide if she liked what she saw. When she made it back to his face, he returned the favor, making sure she saw him look. Then he turned to the other side of the room.

  It wasn't at all what she'd expected. Men had been chasing her all night. She was used to it, thinking she'd get her pick of the litter and tired of them all. Chance had just offered her something new. His little deer was going to have to become a predator, but she would. Two beers, he decided. That's how long it would take. While she thought about the lure, he'd just enjoy a little scenery.

  On the far side of the room was a cluster of black. Spiked hair, a collection of piercings, and clothes just like his sweet Dez, they were split evenly between men and women. Unlike the frat boys, the darker crowd was more honest. They didn't play the same game. Their style prevented so many of the subtle signals people relied on and gave them a little shelter from rejection. They also avoided anyone that didn't fit with them. The thought of that challenge appealed to him both because it wouldn't be easy and because they reminded him of his girl. In a different life, she might be with them, laughing with black painted lips, waiting for him to kiss the shadows away.

  He turned back to his fawn. She was waiting, her friend looking as well. Chance laughed, ducking his head at being caught. He hadn't expected the friend. She'd managed to out-maneuver him. Damn, she was good. He lifted his beer, caught her eye, and took a drink in salute, then looked for the next beauty. Not that he was giving up on his fawn. She'd just upped the ante, and he was game for it.

  On the other side of the entrance, a chubby girl laughed at something. The spark in her eye was so honest, so unconcerned with appearances. He admired the flush on her throat and the dimples in her cheeks. The girl turned, her eyes flicking over him. They flared, widening when she realized he was looking at her, and she looked away quickly. He waited.

  If Dez hadn't set the standard, he'd take her home. The only problem was that she'd probably get hurt. She didn't look like her heart had been walled off. He wondered what her laugh would sound like directed at him. He wondered if her kisses would be timid. The sweet girl looked up again and Chance smiled, this time breaking the look first. He wanted her to know that someone out there found her gorgeous, because he did. He honestly did, even if she didn't fit society's narrow view of perfection; he thought she was perfect in her own way.

  He tipped his bottle one more time and found nothing but swill. He swallowed it, glancing back to his fawn. She was leaning over the tiny table, a drink between her elbows while her friend tossed darts at the board. His eyes roamed the swell of her ass and the curve of her back. She still wasn't alone. A pair of guys hovered a bit too close, both of them posturing, sure that she'd go home with one of them. Chance wanted to laugh. She'd chew them both up and leave them broken. They had no idea what kind of woman they'd found.

  He did.

  The fawn looked at the boys, unimpressed. With a sigh, she looked back over her shoulder at Chance. He caught her eyes, daring her to look away. Slowly she turned toward him, admitting that she knew the game. He looked at her nearly empty drink, then right back to her eyes, and lifted a brow. She grabbed the cup, lifted it to her lips and drained it, then licked the last drop from her lip.

  Oh, she was going to be amazing. If he could guess the right drink, he wouldn't be here long. If he failed, he'd have to make up for it. College girl, so probably one of the staples. She tilted the glass again, letting an ice cube trickle into her mouth, and he smiled, seeing the cherry. She tilted her head, admitting she was caught off-guard, and he turned, tossing his beer bottle in the trash, heading to the bar.

  "Bud Light and an amaretto sour?"

  The guy behind the counter nodded and listed a price. Chance paid it, then dropped an equal amount into the tip jar. That always got the drinks spiced a bit nicer. He was dancing with a real woman tonight, so he needed all the advantages he could get. When the bartender poured, he drizzled a little extra over the ice, and Chance knew he'd made the right choice. Cradling his cold beer and the plastic cup, he wove his way to her table, ultimately aiming for his spot on the wall.

  The pair of boys had gotten closer, their attention obviously on her even as they tried to pretend it wasn't. She wasn't impressed. In fact, she looked tired of it all. Chance blatantly pushed between them and her table to set the glass down before her, his face as calm as if he did this every night. Then again, he kinda did.

  "Amaretto sour?" he asked.

  Her lashes lifted in surprise. "Yeah, thanks."

  He just nodded and kept going. Round one to him. Not much longer before his delicate fawn decided to become a fox. He'd also just beat the competition, and they weren't happy about it. Guy number one glared. The second guy adjusted his ball cap then marched over. From the look on his face, he'd had a couple too many and hadn't thought this through.

  "Hey, carrot top, don't think a girl like that would have a thing to do with you!"

  Chance couldn't help it. He laughed. "That's the best you got?"

  He pulled himself away from the wall, standing up to his full height. Easily three inches taller than Ball Cap, his shoulders were just as broad and his body a lot more toned. None of these kids would guess what he did for a living. He stayed fit because he knew the state of his body fed his addiction, but the side effects were nice, too. The drunk college kid took a step back, deciding he wasn't quite ready to pick a fight over a girl that hadn't even made a move. Chance shrugged and leaned against the wall again.

  And his fawn had noticed. It was a fine line that women wanted him to walk. Not too aggressive – he shouldn't pick fights – but not too meek, either. Strong, but smart. Once she realized he was both, she'd be all his. He'd already hinted at the first, and the idiot had just given him the second. Now it was time to seal the deal. He had to let her know he was actually interested but not desperate.

  He checked his watch, knowing she was still watching, then took a sip. Every movement was calculated, but some of them had a double purpose. In this case, he wanted to make sure he didn't drink too much. He still had to drive home. Chance looked at his fawn then shifted his eyes over her shoulder, watching her friend go to collect her darts. He smiled. Her turn now. She'd be giving every man in the room a show when she tossed the little piece of plastic to the wall, letting her ass bounce with each attempt.

  But she decided to
change the rules. Her friend came back to the table and the fawn leaned to her ear, saying something. The friend glanced toward him, and Chance shrugged, admitting he knew he was the subject. They both giggled. He'd just won.

  He took one more sip, counting down in his mind, then the fawn grabbed her drink and crossed the distance, heading right for him. Half the guys in the room watched her, wondering who she'd just chosen. Chance made sure he didn't look smug or shocked. He just waited for her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  It kinda was.

  "You were close. It was an apple sour," she said, moving to stand just at the edge of his hip. Her voice was light, like the bells of angels. She could seduce a man just with the sound.

  He tilted his head slightly. "I guess I'll have to make that up to you next time. Just thought you might need the distraction from your fans."

  "Aren't you one?"

  "No. They think you're some trophy to win. I know better. Woman like you? You aren't the prize, you're the victor."

  From the look in her eyes, he'd just pushed the right button. "So, does this mean you're the prize?"

  "Isn't that your call, not mine?"

  "What if I wanted you to be?" She leaned into him, her chest brushing against his.

  Chance slid his arm to her back, his fingers sliding just above her waistband to brush the bare skin under her shirt. "I wouldn't be ashamed."

  Once again he'd changed the rules. She expected him to be timid and impressed with her attention. His words said she was winning, but his body proved to her that he could take everything she'd give. He touched her like he already knew her body and she responded without even knowing it. Her head tilted, exposing her neck slightly and the brush of his fingers made her lips part. He stroked the soft skin of her back, teasing her but giving her the next move.

  "So, what's your name?" she asked, falling back to the basics.

  "Rob. You?"

  "Lydia. Grad student?"

  Chance smiled. "No. Just wanted a drink. A long, tall, refreshing one."

  "Ah," she started to dismiss him. "So just wishing you did the college thing, huh?"

  "More like reliving the glory days. Masters in programming, bachelors in business, associates in finance. You?"

  He knew it was an impressive resume. His parents had been adamant that he get the best education, and thankfully had the money to make sure it happened. It had also proven to him that while college was important, he would never make it a requirement for his staff. His little Dez was a perfect example. She could have gotten a full ride to MIT with her brains, but life had kicked her in the ass instead.

  "Working on my sociology degree," she told him. "Graduate in June."

  "Nice. Guess that means you know exactly how all this works." He felt the twitch in his lips and wondered if she realized what he meant.

  Lydia smiled and ducked her head. "Yes. And I think you're the only other person in this room who can say the same. We going to your place or mine?"

  He blinked once. She'd just bested him again. He didn't mind letting her know it, but he wasn't going to lose his advantage. He checked his watch. Almost two. "Well, I have to be at work in a couple of hours. I'm in town setting up a program, so I’m on call."

  "Hotel?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "Loft in the shop."

  That caught her attention. "What kind of shop?"

  He twisted his mouth. Better to stay close to the facts. "I'm not supposed to say, but it's a game company."

  "Video game?" She reached up to trace the muscle across his chest. "Which one?"

  "Signed an NDA. I can't tell you."

  Lydia smiled deviously. "No, but if you're living at the shop, that means I can figure out what company, huh?"

  "It's possible. No rules against guests."

  Her fingers slid up his neck, moving to the back. "Then I guess it's your place. You have any freaky kinks?"

  He leaned closer to her, pressing her hips against his thigh. "Lots of them."

  She sucked in a breath and twined her hand in his hair. "Anything dangerous?"

  "Not if it's just one night," he promised, feeling his body responding to her. "You want to make me your conquest, I'll let you. Tonight. After that, I'll take every ounce of your pride and devour it." This was the point where she let him know if it was worth the trouble. Would she take the one night stand or expect more?

  Lydia pulled his face to hers until their mouths almost met. "You're not that good."

  "I am," he promised, then stole the inch between them.

  He kissed her, his palm moving to the side of her face. His thumb caressed her cheek as his lips proved that he had the patience of a man, not a boy. Amaretto clung to her tongue, sharp against the beer on his, and she gave in. For all her bravado, Lydia wasn't ready for him. She thought she'd won. She'd been so sure, but there, in the middle of the bar, he made lazy love to her mouth, driving her body senseless with subtle caresses on her back and tender touches on her face. He loved her for what she gave him and returned it all and more. When their lips parted, she was panting, ready to give him anything he wanted.

  "I am," he said again.

  "Damn," she breathed. "Stay right there. I need to tell my roommate I'm leaving."

  He pulled out his keys and checked his watch. "Ten minutes."

  "I just need two."

  She turned back for her friend, swaying with the first step. Oh, she was going to be fun. He wondered if Dez would want to hear about his little conquest, or if that would be too much. He never really knew with her, and that was the best part. He couldn't play her. She didn't accept the rules. Dez was a wild card, and he was completely and totally addicted to her. Addicted enough that he'd leave Lydia begging if Dez asked him to, and he knew it.

  He finished his beer just as she returned, a cluster of keys in her hand. "I'm parked behind the building. I'll follow you," she said.

  "Me too." Chance gently touched her back, reminding her of that soft, sensitive area, and guided her to the door. "You know where the old Murphy warehouse is?"

  Her feet slowed. "Holy shit, Deviant Games?"

  Chance nodded, but inside he was cussing. He'd found a damned gamer. Of all the girls in the bar, the one he'd picked up knew his company. "That's the one."

  Lydia smiled and let her eyes roam over him again. "I'll give you the best blowjob you've ever had if you tell me the scoop on Silk."

  "You were going to do that anyway." He pressed the button to unlock his truck.

  "Rumor is the game isn't working."

  Chance laughed. "Oh, it's working. Just started building the demo for F5. It's working just fine."

  She turned for a small blue compact. "Then I'll meet you there. I know the way."

  Chapter 14

  She beat him, but just barely. Chance parked his truck in the regular spot, right by the side door, and got out. Lydia was looking around in awe. Walking up behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and finally got to enjoy her curves. The press of her body let him know she truly was willing. His dick twitched in anticipation.

  "Does this mean I need to give you the grand tour first?" He guided her toward the side door used only by employees.

  "Oh yeah," she agreed.

  And it gave him more chances to seduce Dez. That he could handle. He didn't think Lydia would mind having him kiss her in front of another woman, and she'd never guess that it wasn't her skin he was trying to reach. No, she was using him to prove she could get a real man. He was using her to prove that he could make his little taste of sugar feel something.

  The warehouse lights were still on but the main room was quiet. Only faint key clicks proved Dez was waiting. Waiting, and probably creating something amazing without even thinking about it. He steered Lydia up the narrow hallway and into the developer area with his arms close around her. They rounded the corner and he saw those dark eyes watching.

  Her eyeliner was thick, like a shield between her and the world. Her l
ashes were unnaturally long but real. He'd seen them in the morning; he knew they weren't glued on. Her red lips were edged in black, pressed into a hard line around a tiny white stick of cardboard. Dez said nothing, just pulled the sucker from her lips and smiled. It was his turn to be on stage, and she was waiting.

  "This is where the developers work," he told Lydia. "And that's Dez, the brains behind the whole thing. Pretty sure she only works at night."

  He reached up and swept the long thick hair away from Lydia's shoulder, baring her throat. With one arm around her stomach, he kissed a line up the back of her neck, but his focus was on Dez. Her liquid chocolate eyes drank it in, only the slight narrowing of her lashes proving that he'd pleased her perfectly. Oh, his sweet Sugar wasn't easy. He'd really have to work this. He kissed toward that sweet spot behind her ear, guiding her toward the bank of machines. The tiny corner of Dez's lip tilted up.

  "With everyone in the same room, it's easier to share ideas." He let his teeth graze lightly across her ear, hoping Dez was listening. "And the development software makes it easy to implement the work, even if it's not completely finished. In other words, there's a lot of teasing going on as we see partially completed goals."

  Dez turned her screen and leaned back, slowly pushing the candy into her mouth, her tongue meeting it before her lips closed. She crooked her finger even as she rolled her chair out of the way, inviting him into her space while she retreated from it. "Braden got the numbers right. Early tests show that strafing will trigger increased dodge modifiers against vehicles. He's treating tab damage like heat seekers, and it's working."

  Lydia grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the monitor, Silk displayed proudly across it. "Oh my god," she breathed. "It's gorgeous! What part do you do?"