Flawed (Eternal Combat Book 0)

by Kitty Cox

For the first time in his life, Chance heard Dez giggle. "See that tree? Yeah, that's his."

  "One tree?"

  "Something like that." She spun the sucker in her sweet little mouth. God, he wanted to steal it. "He made it possible for that tree to be there, at any rate."

  He had to pull Lydia away or he was going to ruin everything. He couldn't keep his damned eyes off Dez, and the brat knew it. She was taunting him right there in front of Lydia, teasing him, egging him on. He was so hard they both had to know.

  "You want to drool over Silk, or see the rest?" he whispered in Lydia's ear, letting his hands slide up her back.

  The moist sound of lips made him look to Dez again, aware that she had complete control of him. Her dark mouth twisted deviously. "Show her the conference room?"

  "That's confidential."

  Dez shrugged. "Who will she tell?"

  Lydia turned, pressing herself against his chest, using her body to beg. "C'mon, Rob, lemme see?"

  "The boss won't care," Dez assured him. "See what she thinks."

  Chance took a deep breath. He'd never played this game before and Dez was too damned good at it. She was controlling him like a puppet with just those dark eyes and luscious lips. Lydia was pouting at him, teasing, using her body to demand his attention. Chance pulled his eyes from Dez and turned them on his little fawn. If she wanted to be devoured that badly, he'd certainly oblige.

  He pressed his fingers into her silky hair, tilting her head up. "You're gonna owe me for this," he said softly, his voice rough with the need pressing against his zipper. "Only eight people even know about it."

  She reached up, stretching, her soft breasts crushed to his chest. "Please?"

  Chance kissed her. Only feet away from his dream girl, he crushed Lydia's lips with his, teasing her mouth apart. She gasped, sucking air over his tongue, and he held her there, refusing to let her go, his hand locked in her hair. She fought back with passion, invading his mouth, her hands pulling his hips into her as she ground her body against the sensitive flesh, only a thin layer of denim between them.

  "God, you make me hard." His words weren't for Lydia, but she didn't know that. He kissed the edge of her jaw, tasting the tang of her cosmetics, working his way down her neck.

  "Gonna fuck me right here?" she asked.

  He chuckled. "Gonna let me?"

  "Think your coworker might have a little complaint."

  "Go ahead," Dez assured her. "Just don't lie on the keyboards. Probably wouldn't be the first time a dev did it." She pushed her chair back and climbed out, walking to her desk.

  "Just two!" Chance called after her.

  Dez turned back and lifted her hands. "Sucker. I'm making an effort. Show her the room."

  He shifted, pulling Lydia with him. "I've been ordered. C'mon." Dez wasn't trying to get high? What the fuck?

  His little fawn followed willingly, getting a small reprieve before her slaughter. He was throbbing, so ready for her, but he could wait. Oh, he could wait if it's what his little taste of sugar wanted. As they crossed the warehouse, Lydia taunted him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her hand sliding into the pocket of his jeans to tease the flesh of his hip. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew he was ready to throw her on a table, and she was intrigued because he hadn't yet.

  Then he turned the corner into the Flawed Think Tank. The lights had been dimmed, half the fluorescent bulbs sleeping for the night, the other half ready for new ideas. Everywhere he looked was the logo. First attempts at the lettering, concepts, and finally, taped on the white board, the accepted text. Lines stretched down from the A and up from the W, like spikes trying to secure the word to reality. Flawed.

  "What is this?" Lydia asked.

  "This," Chance told her, "is how a game starts. The name, the concept, and the goal."

  She saw the list of issues, but there was no way she'd ever guess it was his team's own problems. Aggression, illness, obesity, addiction, fear of touch. Each was written by a different hand, the last cramped and oddly masculine like the fingers had forgotten how to operate a pen. Chance decided to add his own. He pulled the cap off a red marker and stepped to the board. Need for approval.

  "Can I?" Lydia asked. He passed her the pen without a word. She smiled at him gently, then wrote, Fear of Rejection.

  "Not tonight," he assured her.

  She shrugged and dropped the pen back onto the waiting rack. "Think it'll make the game?"

  "I think it's the theme of the game, so yeah. We're all flawed. The project won't be announced until F5."

  "When's that?"

  "Middle of August. It's a big convention where we show off our latest toys. Deviant Games will announce the Silk beta and our next project." He gestured to the chaos of ideas. "And all of this will start to take on a form."

  Lydia pressed back into him. "Now, this table I won't say no to." She tilted her head as her hands pulled him closer.

  Chance obeyed, kissing her, but wouldn't let her pull him down. "I will. Call it superstitious, but this room is sacred. I do have an apartment upstairs, though."

  "Not sure I can wait that long," she whispered, sucking at his neck.

  He lifted his hands, brushing across her nipples intentionally as he reached for her face. "You're gonna have to do a lot more than just talk dirty to me to make me break." He heard the flick of the warehouse lights shutting down. "And I think my partner just went to bed. I've only got a few hours before I'm on shift."

  "She lives here?"

  "Downstairs. I'm upstairs. We babysit the thing all night. Gaming is serious business." He kissed her again and stepped back, drawing her with him out of the room. It was Dez's room, not hers. "Don't worry about her."

  "She going to turn you in to your boss?"

  He smiled at that. He was the boss. Dez was his partner. There wasn't anyone to complain. "No. We ignore each other's flaws. It's our deal."

  Lydia made a pleased noise and stepped into him, her hands grabbing the waist of his jeans. "Good. Because that desk looks like it needs a little attention." She popped the button free.

  "I will fuck you in the warehouse, don't tempt me." He took another step back, moving slow enough that her hands wouldn't leave. If she reached just a bit farther, she'd be stroking him. He wanted her to. He was daring her to. God, he needed her to.

  "I'm tempting you," she purred, then pushed him back against the wall.

  The glare of twenty-four monitors lit the large empty space and nothing else. It was dark, the lights out in his apartment. Over the door in the back, the exit sign glowed, a line of yellow light seeping up from the stairs to the server room. The space felt private, secluded, and oh so daring. If his little fawn wanted to make a show of it, he was more than willing.

  She kissed him, devouring him, and it was all he could do to keep up. Their tongues clashed, both looking for control but neither finding it. Chance let himself go, savoring the softness of her skin, wanting more, so much more. He needed the rush, the power and pressure, and ultimately the release that he could only find in her body. His hands found the tiny button straining between her breasts and eased it free before sliding inside the fabric to cup her breasts. Round, heavy, she spilled over his hands. When his thumbs slid under her bra to brush over her hard little nipples, Lydia moaned, the sound shooting straight to his loins.

  "God, you're wearing too much," he growled, fumbling with the rest of the buttons.

  She said nothing, just tugged at his shirt. He resisted until he had her free, then ripped his t-shirt over his head, dropping it at his feet. He wanted her now. Every touch of her skin made him ache. Her mouth found his chest, kissing him, flicking her tongue over his nipple, and her hands stripped away her shirt so she could release her bra. Only then did she give him what he really wanted.

  She grabbed one side of his jeans and pulled, the zipper sliding down on command. Her other hand grabbed him. Warm and hard, her fingers held him so tightly. Chance sucked in a breath, but he needed the
taste of her. He licked at her lips then kissed her jaw before sucking the salt from her neck while she stroked him.

  "Rob." She pressed long fingers to his chest. "Lean back."

  Oh, he did. He knew where she was going. Letting the wall hold him, he pulled his hands away, groaning softly as she kissed ever lower, then lower still. When her mouth traced the fine line under his navel, he looked up, waiting, knowing, needing her to move just a bit farther down.

  By the door, something shifted. Red light illuminated pale skin, then it was gone. He looked harder, forcing the darkness to separate, and saw her. Dez stood in the shadows, a ghost of a thought, ready to slip away in a moment. The light of the monitors hid her perfectly, but she was there, with him, sharing this in her own way.

  "Oh, Sugar," he moaned a breath before Lydia's mouth swallowed him. "Oh yes, that's what I wanted." He leaned his head back and imagined it was her red lips around his dick. Her hand cupping his balls. Her body brushing him gently.

  His hands found her hair – too long, but he could ignore it – and guided her. Slowly, then faster, then slower, he wanted this to last. He was panting, barely able to wait, but she was loving him and he wanted it to never end. Then Lydia pressed her tongue harder, dragging across the most sensitive spot, and he knew he was done.

  "Honey, do that again and I'm cumming in your mouth."

  Her velvet lips slid down him again, and she moaned, the sound like vibrations into his balls. She did it again and again, and Chance broke. He closed his eyes and grabbed the back of her head, his dick deep in her throat, and he exploded, filling her mouth as he throbbed with the release. For those few heartbeats, everything was silent, perfect, completely still. He could feel her and think nothing. His little fawn sucked every last drop from him, and he thought about absolutely nothing. Then he had to breathe again.

  He opened his eyes and saw Dez still hiding in the shadows. A smile found his lips. Delirious with his own pleasure, he looked at his conquest. Crooking his finger, Chance begged to her stand and reached to help. His jeans hung open, exposing half his ass, but he didn't care. He wouldn't need them at all in a second. Lydia was barely on her feet before he turned her, walking her to the closest computer, and pressed her hands to the desk. She arched into him, tossing her hair over her back. Chance leaned over her, kissing her neck, easing her jeans open, pressing his bare chest along her spine. Skin to skin, she was ready and willing, moaning and writhing as his mouth found every sensitive area: her neck, her shoulder, the curve of her lower back. He pushed her jeans even lower, enjoying the swell of her hips and the tension in the fabric. Then he pressed against the bare skin on her back, bending her before him. His mouth moved to the top of her ass, kissing the tiny dimple while he found the condom in his pocket.

  She heard the package open and looked back. He found her mouth, shoving his tongue inside it as he rolled the latex on. God, he was still fucking hard. This bitch had better enjoy it. He was going to rock her world.

  He knew she was ready; he could smell it. The scent of sex hung in the air like a taunt. He reached around to slide a finger between her legs, caressing the hard knot. Then he turned, pressing his cheek to her shoulder, and stroked her again, his eyes finding his girl. Lydia gasped, her hips bucking at his touch, but he wasn't watching her. He didn't need to; he could feel her.

  His eyes were on Dez. "You like that, Sugar?" he asked. In the darkness, she shifted, silently begging the wall to hold her. Oh, she liked it. Dez was probably as wet as Lydia. Chance pressed his mouth beside her ear, nipping the skin gently as he drove her body higher. "I want you. I want you so damned bad."

  "God, yes," Lydia whispered.

  He wanted to shut her up, so plunged his dick deep inside, grabbing her hip to pull her all the way down. God, she was hot. He groaned and slid out, feeling every ridge and muscle, then back in. His finger moved again as he stroked her inside and out. She reacted, clenching down on him. Chance smiled, shifting his hips to press against her from the inside, moving his other hand higher. One on her shoulder, one on her clit, his rock hard dick beneath it, he was making this little fawn feel so damned good, and he got to watch Dez while he did it.

  Listening to Lydia's body, feeling her gasps, begging for her moans, he rocked inside her. God, he wanted to feel Dez. He wanted to hear her pleasure. He wanted to taste her lips. She'd be so tight and timid, so vulnerable. Chance could imagine the way she'd look, her eyes closed, her face relaxed, her back arched. He'd kiss every one of those wounds, inside and out. He'd love her so completely that she'd never feel alone again.

  And neither would he.

  Beneath him, his fawn was almost ready. She needed just a little more, just a bit of coaxing, but his Dez wouldn't. Oh no, she'd throw herself into it. If she could just take the first step, she'd lose herself in him completely. He pressed, rubbed, kissed, and thrust, knowing just the right buttons to push, and felt her clench, heard the air slide into her lungs. Lydia gave herself to him and came, a primal sound stuck in her throat, soft like she tried to hide it. That's how his Dez would sound. Oh god, that's exactly how she'd sound in his arms. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to Lydia's back as his mind saw only Dez and his body worshiped the dream, spilling into the wrong woman.

  He sucked air from her skin, holding her against him. "I have to go to work," he whispered.

  Lydia chuckled softly, evicting him with a tilt of her hips. "Aren't you already?"

  "Technically, but I'm pretty sure I can't back up the server and keep going." Chance slid off the condom and dropped it in a small grey waste basket at the edge of the desk, making a mental note to clean that up as soon as Lydia left.

  Bending to grab his jeans, he tugged them higher, then turned for their shirts. Lydia was doing her own job of dressing, unwinding her little panties from the twists of denim. While she dressed, she watched him, trying to find a way to keep his interest. Chance refused to laugh. The poor thing had no idea. She was just like every other woman: beautiful, sultry, and completely forgettable.

  "Can I see you again?" she asked.

  He passed over her shirt and bra. "Possibly. I wouldn't count on it."

  That was not what she'd expected to hear. Her eyes widened and her jaw clenched. "You planned to just fuck me and go?"

  "No, technically I planned to just fuck you and then you'd go." He wiped his shirt across his chest. "Or did you forget that part?"

  "Thought I was the one conquering?"

  Chance palmed the side of her face and stepped into her, kissing her again. "Consider me conquered."

  "Bullshit."

  "Yeah. If you'd managed, I would have considered seeing you again. Honey, you're damned good, but you're not exactly special. Go home and bitch about me or something. You liked it."

  "I should slap you." She shoved her arms through the straps of her bra then yanked on her shirt.

  He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably. Would it make you feel better?"

  "No." She focused on the buttons.

  He reached over and moved her hair away from her neck. "I like you. Next time I'm on the prowl, if I see you, I sure as shit won't say no."

  "I'm not looking for a boyfriend or anything."

  He nodded, accepting that. "I'm working on a girlfriend. Otherwise, I'd want to see a lot more of you."

  "Last fling while single, huh?"

  "Something like that," he agreed, knowing it was nothing at all like that. "I'll make sure your flaw gets into the game, though. Deal?"

  "Gonna put my name in the credits?"

  "Sure."

  She took a breath and straightened her shirt. "It's not really Lydia."

  "Mine's not really Rob."

  "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." She tilted her head, daring him.

  Chance chuckled. "No. You'll figure it out, though. Want me to walk you to your car?"

  "I know the way." She turned, stepping before him, one leg on either side of his. "One more kiss."

  H
e obliged, savoring the last moments with his little fawn. Oh, he loved her – almost as much as he hated her. Mostly, he just hated that he couldn't refuse how good it felt when she became his for a moment. She touched him like she meant it, like he was real, and he enjoyed it, refusing to think about his little taste of sugar so very close.

  "Good night," he breathed against her lips.

  "Yes, it was."

  She didn't even look back as she left. Dez picked the deadly ones.

  Chapter 15

  On Braden's computer, the security cameras showed Lydia leaving. She made it to her car, the lights came on, and she pulled onto the deserted country road, heading back the way she'd come. Chance was wet and sweaty, his body glistening in the light, and Dez wished she could touch him. Her high was fading and her body ached all over, begging her for more, but she was trying to wait.

  "Still alive over there?" he asked in her direction.

  She moved closer, heading for the employee door. She needed to lock it. "I'm not the one who looks like he ran a marathon."

  "Mm," he agreed. "I need a fucking shower."

  She twisted the deadbolt. All of the developers had keys, but the people who hated her didn't. It had to be locked. Dez turned and saw dark smudges on his neck. Chance was watching, his expression so sweet and longing, but in a safe way. Biting her lip, she headed right for him.

  "You have lipstick on your neck."

  He held out the shirt in his hand. "Wanna wipe it off?"

  She looked at his hand, then his neck. Yes, she wanted to. She wasn't sure she could, but for Chance she'd sure try. "No promises."

  He lifted his chin, exposing his neck. "When I ask, you're allowed to say no, Sugar."

  "You called her Sugar."

  He chuckled. "No, Dez, I didn't. I called you Sugar. She assumed I was talking to her. I wasn't."

  The pounding in her chest was like fear, but different. How did he always manage to do this to her? She should be terrified of him, but instead, she trusted him completely. She'd also just seen that he really was the asshole she'd thought. He was just never one to her. Using a wad of his shirt, she smeared the lipstick even more, removing only some of it, but the act was gratifying. It felt almost normal, personal, like they were sharing something.