Playing For Forever: An Erotic Love Story (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

by J. C. Grant

  Crap… Looks like I’m going.

  David was going to be furious.

  ****

  As soon as we arrived home, I told Fergus he could have the weekend off. He had been with me for the past five days without any time for himself—we both needed a break. And since he knew of my weekend plans, he agreed.

  While Fergus checked the house over, I packed for a long weekend. Once he was gone and the gate was shut behind him, I called David.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” David sounded partly relieved, partly excited. “You on the plane yet?

  “Hi, babe. I thought you had a game tonight?”

  “In it right now, brought my phone into the dugout.”

  “Well... how much longer do you think it'll be?” Baseball games were absurdly long, and normally I found that irritating, but at the moment I was counting on it to save my ass.

  “Couple more hours probably.” His words were slow, measured. He knew something was up. “Why?”

  I hesitated. “I have a last-minute party that I have to go to.” I held my breath waiting for his response.

  “Our deal was as soon as you finished, you come here,” he accused, none too subtly. After a moment of silence, he asked, “What's this last-minute party for?”

  “It's a wrap party. And I feel like I should go—I don't want to seem antisocial.” That was the truth. I had no desire to go without David, which was alarming in itself.

  “You are antisocial. You think you should be setting expectations for future behavior you won't be able to meet?”He had a valid point.

  “I think I should this season, and then next season I can be my normal antisocial self,” I explained, hoping he would understand work was the only reason I wanted to go.

  “Where's this party at?”

  “The director’s house.”

  “You're not going.” His tone was final.

  “David—”

  “Austin, you're not going.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but the demand was clear. “You don't—”

  “David,” I cut him off, not willing to allow him to dictate to me from another state. If he wanted to control what I did, he had to be here. “Alec is going too. I feel like if Alec thinks he should go, I definitely need to go. It will be fine. I'll be there for like an hour—hour-and-a-half—and then I'll be on a plane and headed down there. Okay?”

  “Sweetheart, you don't—” he started, his tone gentle.

  “Babe,” I interrupted what was sure to be a very effective directive in that tone—his I-love-you-more-than-anything-and-would-do-anything-for-you tone. “I gotta go.”

  “Austin—”

  I could hear the announcer in the background, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “I'll see you after a little while.”

  “Austin—” he repeated, his tone hard, gruff, all sweetness gone.

  I ended the call before he could say anything else. I knew it was rude, but I needed to socialize with these people, at least until I got to know them a little bit better.

  I fed Chance, then took advantage of the time I had to get a mani-pedi, hoping that would help make me not look as overworked and tired as I felt when I saw David.

  By the time I got home, it was almost nine and my plan had been to attend the party from nine thirty to ten thirty, and then get on the plane and spend the next four days with David. While sacrificing a few hours away from David sucked, I knew it was something I was going to have to do occasionally, and I hoped attending this party would help soften the blow when I didn't attend future gatherings.

  Because truth be told, I'd rather stay home and fuck David all day than socialize with other people.

  I hopped in the shower quickly, not bothering with washing my hair. Minutes later, I was pulling on some cropped skinny ripped jeans, a black V-neck sweater, and a pair of nude platform flip-flops.

  The director said it would be casual, and I was only half taking him at his word. I called for car service, quickly packed Chance’s bag, then got him settled with the TV on his preferred channel. I was setting our bags by the front door—wanting to leave as soon as I was done serving my time, making a public appearance—when my phone rang.

  It was David.

  “Change your mind about the party?” he asked as soon as the call connected.

  I couldn’t deny his rough voice was enough to make me reconsider.

  “No, I'm getting ready to leave now, but our bags are packed and ready to go, so I should be on the plane in two hours.”

  When he didn't respond immediately, I started to get nervous. Then I heard something in the background.

  A woman's voice.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, a chill racing down my spine as my heart stilled. “David, where are you? Are you at the house?”

  “No, when you changed your plans, I had to change mine a little bit.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Mad? Not mad.” He paused. “Don't worry about it, sweetheart. Everything's fine. I'll see you soon.”

  Then the call ended.

  Before I could fully process what had just happened, my phone rang again. It was the car service.

  Quickly, I locked up the house and headed down the driveway to the waiting car. I found the crumpled-up piece of paper in my purse with the director’s address and handed it to the driver.

  With it being a Friday night, navigating from the Hollywood Hills through West Hollywood took longer than usual, but once we arrived, there was no mistaking which house was having the party.

  I tipped the driver before stepping out onto the street. High squeals, laughter, and splashing could be heard coming from the backyard of the massive Beverly Hills estate as I made my way up the driveway to the front door—a front door that was wide open with no one in sight.

  Entering someone's home when you have never been there before was an odd feeling, and there was always that moment of feeling like it might be the wrong house. But before I could fully process that feeling, one of the extras I'd seen earlier in the day came streaking through the living room.

  “Hey, you want something to drink?” the director asked as he entered.

  I wasn’t sure what my expectations were, but finding Sam Massey, my director, wearing swim trunks and nothing else was not it. Maybe it was because I was accustomed to David's body, but I wasn't intimidated by Sam anymore, wasn't impressed. I'd been so nervous around him, the Oscar-winning director, but now he seemed extremely average without his shirt on.

  "If you have flat water, that would be great,” I answered, scanning the room, completely relaxed now.

  “Coming right up. I'll be right back, and I'll give you a tour of the house.”

  “Sounds great.”

  David

  Austin was out of her fucking mind if she thought I was gonna sit in Arizona and wait for her while she went to a Hollywood party.

  Correction... a Hollywood house party.

  No fucking way.

  Austin was still green to this level of fame; she didn't know what to look for. And she tended to be uptight around strangers. Odds were someone would slip her something to get her to relax and have fun. To get her to stay.

  That type of thing was common.

  Extremely common.

  I knew something was up when she asked about my game, that’s why I lied—the game had just ended. I didn't blame Austin for ignoring me about the party. I wasn't happy about the show, and I hadn’t been hiding it. I’d been riding her ass all week. Complaining about every little thing.

  I thought for sure she knew what I was up to when she asked where I was. And I wasn't the type of man to hit a woman, but the flight attendant saw I was on the phone and felt compelled to talk to me anyway, which left my wife thinking who-the-fuck-knew-what. Judging from the way she asked, “Where are you,” it wasn't anything good.

  We'd already landed. I should've waited till I got off the plane and in the car to call.

  Was I happy that she
was possibly pissed at me, thinking I was with a woman while she was on her way to a Hollywood party? No.

  Could I have explained? Yes.

  But I wanted to see what was really going on.

  She spent more time with these people during the week than she did me. She let Fergus go for the weekend, even packed in front of him before he left, made sure he was long gone before letting me know about the party. And I knew she went to the salon before the party.

  Who did she want to look nice for?

  But there was a real possibility that she just felt obligated to make an appearance.

  Either way, I was going to find out.

  And it wouldn't be long.

  I couldn't help but wonder if she'd forgotten that I could track her phone. Or that she could track mine.

  Austin

  After the tour of the house, I went outside to be social. Sitting on one of the pool chairs, I sipped my flat water, watching the craziness unfold before me. The only person there I knew beside the director was Matthew. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since that night a drunken Tara humiliated him over the phone in front of David and me.

  Not until his audition tape landed on my desk, and technically that was from his agent. Mathew was the casting choice David was pissed about. And aside from him, not a single other cast member was there.

  Thirty minutes later, I realized Alec wouldn't be making an appearance. Everyone was half-dressed or completely nude. It was not the kind of party I'd thought it was. Just as I was about to get up and quietly leave, Matthew called to me.

  “Austin, come here.”

  Matthew and I had come to a truce. For one, he was a really good actor. Two, he was only going to be in six out of twelve episodes for this season. Three, after what happened with Zach, I was confident Mathew’s behavior toward me would completely change.

  Standing up, I walked over to the hot tub where Matthew was sitting with two topless girls.

  As I approached, he pulled away from them and came over to the side where I was.

  “Sit down. You already have enough power over me. You don't have to stand over me, too,” Matthew said as he gripped my foot.

  Still hyperaware these were people I'd be working with every day, I played it cool, not wanting to come across as a major bitch.

  “Okay, okay, fine.” My tone was teasing as I slid my flip-flops off and sat at the edge of the hot tub, letting my feet dip in.

  “Here.” Matthew tugged me closer, until my calves were in the water.

  “Oh, leave her alone,” the director said as he scooted over.

  I hadn't even realized he was in there. And honestly, him being in there with topless females was not something I wanted to witness. Definitely not a scene I wanted to be a part of.

  “Guys, I appreciate you inviting me, but I haven't seen my husband, and he's waiting on me.”

  “Oh, come on. He can wait a little longer. Relax. Just chill for twenty more minutes. You make us feel like we're not cool enough for you.”

  That was true.

  They were not cool enough for me, but in the interest of work, I decided to stick it out. I sat there continuing to sip my water, nodding and pretending like the two topless girls weren't actually there.

  It wasn't long before I started feeling really tired, unnaturally tired.

  Minutes later, or maybe it was seconds, the director grabbed my thigh, squeezing, and said, "Do you want to take these off and get in?"

  Then everything snapped into place. I'd been given something. Again. But that euphoric arousal was absent.

  I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier. I tried to focus. I needed my phone. I needed to get my ass up, but my legs felt heavy and numb.

  “Get in, hangout with us. You can see your husband anytime,” a different guy said, a guy I didn't recognize.

  Then that guy moved next to me, his hand moving to my hip, trying to pull me closer. I felt another hand tugging at the neck of my shirt, fingertips crazing my breast. I tried to push them away, but my movements were sluggish and weak.

  “Get your hands off her.” David's deep voice boomed behind me.

  Abruptly, the hands disappeared.

  “David?” I asked, hopeful it wasn't my imagination as I tried to turn around, but I could barely control my speech, much less my body.

  I felt his warm palm cupping the back of my neck. Then he was in front of me, squatting down next to me.

  “Yeah, sweet girl. I'm right here.” He looked at me for a long moment, studying me, then turned to Sam.

  “What the fuck did you give her?” David demanded, his voice dark and threatening.

  “Chill, it's just some Xany's,” Sam replied, annoyed.

  David didn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around me and standing me up. When my legs gave out, he scooped me up, tucking me into his chest.

  I could tell he was furious from his voice and the rigid muscles holding me, but I was too tired to care.

  David barely jostled me as he grabbed my purse.

  Next thing I knew, he was putting me in the truck. I barely registered him buckling me in and lowering my seat back. I heard his door shut, then he said something, but it was getting harder and harder to hang on to consciousness.

  Eventually, I gave up.

  *****

  I felt something stroking along my jaw. Then it moved up the side of my face, pushing into my hair. That something turned into several somethings, and I realized it was David's fingers weaving through my hair, cupping the side of my head in his large hand.

  “Austin?” he rumbled in my ear. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

  A low moaning sound left my throat as I tried to speak.

  “Hey,” he whispered, sounding relieved. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

  I tried. Then I tried again. But I couldn't keep them open.

  “It's okay.” His deep rasp was soothing, comforting. “There's food in the fridge. You'll have to heat it up. There's not a warming drawer here. I have a game, but I'll be back in a few hours. Okay?”

  “’Kay,” I murmured, my voice rough from disuse.

  “I love you.” His tone was alarmingly fierce.

  “I love you more,” I murmured, making another attempt at opening my eyes and failing.

  He let out a harsh breath. Then he pressed a firm kiss to my forehead. After a long moment, those lips moved, trailing firmer kisses down to my jaw until his face was buried in my neck.

  “I'll be back soon,” he murmured into my hair before pulling away. His heavy boots thudded against the floor, a floor that sounded nothing like ours. A moment later, he said something to someone, but I couldn't make out the words. It felt like an eternity before I heard a door in the distance open and shut. Then heavy bolts clicked into place.

  It took a minute for my brain to put it together. I was not in my house. Then the events started slowly coming back to me. The party, David showing up, and the hum of jet engines.

  I was in Arizona.

  And after what happened at the party, I knew I wouldn't be going back to LA until David did. It was a good thing I had the week off.

  That was my last thought before I slipped back into oblivion.

  The first thing I noticed when I finally woke up, Chance was cuddled up to me, back to back. The second thing, I was bizarrely alert and feeling great. I didn't have a clue what they'd given me, but this wasn't the aftermath I would've expected.

  Getting to my feet, I headed to the bathroom. It still smelled of David’s body soap; coconut oil, honey, and vanilla. A warm musky fragrance that combined with his natural scent created that cotton candy, ocean smell. I took my time, breathing it in, taking comfort in it.

  As I went through my morning ritual, David’s whispered words started resurfacing, piece by piece.

  He’d been sweet as hell.

  I felt terrible.

  I'd completely blown him off, for what? A stupid house party I was roofied at? Making him come chase me, take care o
f me because I wouldn't listen?

  I was an idiot.

  Noticing Chance staring at me, I shook it off. I would deal with it later.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  At my voice, his head jerked up, tail wagging.

  "Let's see what Daddy left us to eat," I enticed him as I made my way to the kitchen.

  Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I stilled. Four thirty. I had been out for roughly seventeen hours.

  What the fuck did he give me?

  Opening the fridge, I discovered David had understated when he said there was something for me to eat. The fridge was not only full of my favorite foods, there were take-out boxes from four different places.

  Checking each container, I found a cannoli cheese situation, a margarita pizza, and a huge piece of dark chocolate cake with some sinful goodness drizzled all over it. And finally... Ice cream cupcakes.

  My man was fucking awesome.

  I placed the pizza in the microwave, letting it heat up while I fixed Chances food. As soon as the microwave dinged, I headed to see what was on TV.

  Four hours later, I heard the bolts in the front door being unlocked. Then the door opened and David's large body was filling the doorway.

  “Hey, sweet girl,” he growled through a growing grin.

  I was off the couch and running to him before I realized what I was doing.

  He didn't hesitate, holding his arms out, catching me just as I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him. His hands caught my thighs, holding me effortlessly as our lips met with wild abandon. The kiss was reckless, desperate, and frantic, as if we hadn't seen each other for weeks.

  He carried me to the bedroom as our lips continued to seek the other’s out. He kicked the bedroom door shut, and then my back met the bed as his body pressed down on me.

  His large hands slid up my sides, then he paused, pulling back enough to ask, “How do you feel?”

  “Really good, actually.” My fingers twisted in his hair. “I felt really refreshed when I woke up.”

  A low hum left his throat and his hand moved up the side of my neck, his thumb grazing my lower lip.