The Player's Club: Scott

by Cathy Yardley

  She cried out, arching like a bow handle, and he shuddered as he moved lower, pressed deep, her already slick pussy encompassing him.

  She gasped at the feeling of his hard, long length filling her, and for a second, her mind went blank. It had been too long since she’d had sex. Way too long. And she couldn’t remember it ever feeling like this.

  He moved back, then surged forward, the friction against her clit and G-spot nearly made her scream. She tilted her pelvis up, her knees hooking on his hips as she dragged her nails down his back, crushing her breasts against his chest.

  “Amanda,” he groaned as he moved into her, with long, slow, gliding strokes that drove her mad.

  More, more, more, her mind chanted, and she lifted herself to meet each thrust. She urged him forward, shifting, kissing whatever she could reach.

  His measured strokes got faster. Their breathing was ragged, urgent.

  Soon, they were moving with crazed energy. She could feel it starting in the pit of her stomach, that quivering pleasure that seemed to radiate like an explosion.

  Then the orgasm tore through her, and she shrieked in pleasure, clutching around him spasmodically, the amazing sensations propelling her mindlessly forward in unbelievable pleasure.

  He shouted in response, and his hips rocked into her, pounding against her…and to her shock, another orgasm blasted, an aftershock of the first, almost as powerful. She bit his shoulder, shuddering against him as he drove against her.

  In the quivering aftermath, she felt stunned. As though she might wake up, at any moment. He held her tight, then eased out of her, heading to the bathroom to take care of the condom.

  Now what?

  She was wide-awake, even though she wondered if she was still dreaming.

  Would he just leave via the window? Pretend that it was just a dream?

  She’d never done a fling before. Isn’t that what they usually did?

  He came back to bed, still naked, climbing in beside her. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, his voice husky, “but I’m exhausted.”

  “It’s almost four in the morning,” she conceded, thrilled that he wouldn’t be leaving. “Of course you’re tired.”

  “Aren’t you?” he said, yawning.

  She realized immediately that she was. Her limbs started feeling heavy. Now that she was relieved to know what was going on, she felt all the tension seep out of her. She blinked heavily, then smiled in the dark as his arm wound around her waist.

  “Consider this an appetizer,” he murmured, pressing hot kisses against the back of her neck. “After a few hours of sleep, I’ll do that right.”

  Her smile broadened. “I’ll hold you to that.” She snuggled against him.

  She heard his breathing going slow, heavy, even.

  “Scott?” she breathed.

  “Hmm?”

  She swallowed. “Scott…are you in The Player’s Club?”

  “Just joined,” he muttered.

  Her eyes flew open, and her body tensed. So did his, she noticed.

  “G’night,” he said quickly, releasing her body, then rolling away from her.

  She noticed it was a while before either of them went to sleep.

  SCOTT WOKE UP DISORIENTED. The sun was slanting over the bed from the wrong angle, shining in his face. The bed was nice, but it wasn’t as large as he was used to.

  And there was a very soft body next to him.

  A very soft, very naked body.

  Amanda, he thought. She was still sleeping, her eyes closed, her cheekbone a wonderful curve to a strong chin, her pale hair in loose tangled waves across her ivory pillow. He leaned down, breathing in her perfume.

  His body went hard in a flash.

  He ought to wake her up, he thought. Maybe they should talk. About what happened last night. About moving forward. He didn’t know if that was something she did on a regular basis—did she even want him there, still? Did she wake up with guys?

  He frowned.

  As if sensing him, she scooted backward, her curving buttocks nuzzling against his cock. She let out a breathy little sigh and rolled over. Her raspberry tipped breasts jutted upward.

  He grimaced. Then he leaned down, pulling another condom out of his pants on the floor. Rolling it on, he stroked her body with his fingertips gently. He tasted her silky skin, pressing tender kisses down her stomach.

  Then he moved between her thighs.

  She woke up with a jolt, then a low growl of pleasure as his tongue worked her. He felt her clit tighten and tasted the sweet wetness as her body got ready. He stroked her, then kissed her thighs, grazing them with his teeth.

  She moaned, arching her back, her head pushed into the pillows as her hips lifted to meet him.

  He stretched on top of her, his cock throbbing as he positioned himself at her entrance. Her eyes were sloe-eyed and sexy, her pouty lips curved in a come-here-you smile. He nipped at her neck, sucking hard as his cock slid in. She was tight—wonderfully, mind-bendingly tight, and he moved slow, almost afraid he’d hurt her. She gasped, her legs curling around his, her hips angling up to take even more of him.

  “Scott…” she rasped. “You feel…so…good…”

  He didn’t trust his vocal chords to answer. Instead, he withdrew, then flexed, pressing deeper into her. He slowly got into a rocking rhythm, stopping only to lean down, feasting on one breast, then the other.

  “Yes,” she hissed, then pushed to roll him onto his back. She rolled her hips and his mind went blank with pure pleasure for a shocking moment. He inhaled sharply, then shuddered as his fingers dug into her hips, stilling her.

  “How, woman,” he panted. “How do you move like that?”

  Her smile was pure, wicked sex. To demonstrate, she rolled again…one sweet, slow gyration that seemed to put all his sensation right in his cock. He sat up, holding her tight as her legs wrapped around his waist.

  He kissed her hard. She bit his lower lip, riding him in a steady, relentless rhythm, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. He gripped her hips, driving himself upward.

  Their movements were less controlled—more intense. She was gasping softly, her breath getting choppy and harsh as her body moved against his. Her thighs clenched around his waist, her nipples like pebbles against his chest.

  “Scott!” she finally screamed, her head back, her whole body convulsing.

  He felt her body milking him, and he couldn’t have stopped from coming if a gun were to his temple. His release tore through him savagely, and he groaned loud against her throat, his body jerking upward as she kept clutching him, rubbing her body against his.

  It seemed to go on forever. When it did let him go, he collapsed against the bed, her on top of him.

  After a long moment, he felt her trembling against him. Alarmed, he looked up.

  Her blue eyes danced with merriment. “I guess that’ll teach me to leave my window open.”

  He laughed hoarsely. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

  “Care to teach me anything else?”

  He smiled. “Anything you want,” he heard himself say. “As soon as humanly possible.”

  Her smile was like the sun, blinding him. Chuckling, she rolled off him. He got up to clean himself up.

  He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. And right now, he really did not care.

  Just as long as he got to touch this woman again.

  “Um…Scott?”

  “Yeah?” he called from the bathroom.

  “About last night.”

  “Yeah,” he echoed, smiling to himself. “Last night certainly was something…”

  “It was a Player’s Club meeting, wasn’t it?”

  He froze, staring at himself in the mirror.

  You’re not supposed to tell anybody, remember?

  He ran the water, splashed his face, rinsed his mouth. Then slowly walked out. “Sorry. What?”

  She tilted her head, studying him like a curious bird. A curious, tenacious bird. “You
said last night that you were a member of The Player’s Club.”

  “The…what club?”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Really?” she murmured. “You’re going to go that route. Really.”

  He sighed. He could lie if he had to—it was just that he frankly sucked at it. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m not judging you. I’m just… I just wanted to know—”

  “I don’t know much,” he interrupted. “I mean, I don’t know really anything. I’m not even really involved.”

  She still looked skeptical. “Do you know how to become a member?” she pressed. “Because I want to become one.”

  He stared back at her, hard. “How did you wind up there?”

  She blushed—he could see it spreading over her pale skin, her cheeks, even down her neck and her chest. “I followed you. I pretended I was a dancer.”

  He gaped. “You faked your way in?” The sheer moxie of the move floored him.

  She shrugged delicately. “I’ve been fascinated with The Player’s Club,” she admitted.

  Suddenly, it all made sense. Her cornering him at the club…inviting him back. Making love to him like some kind of feral sex goddess.

  She’s some kind of hell-raiser. Adrenaline junkie.

  And she thought he was one, as well.

  He sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it. Anyone hears that I blabbed, I’m getting kicked out.”

  “I’m not going to tell a soul,” she promised.

  He sat down on the bed. “Good.” Disconcerted, he started reaching for his clothes. He had to think about this.

  Was she using him?

  Does it really matter?

  She tapped his shoulder. “How do you join? Because I want in. I’ve always been fascinated by it, and…it’s just what I need.” A determined expression crossed her face. “I mean it. I want in.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I sort of fell into it, myself. But I think people can, um, vouch for people. Bring people in. Although I don’t remember seeing any women involved.”

  She smiled. “I know it’s a huge favor, but…would you vouch for me?”

  He stopped what he was doing, staring at her over his shoulder. “Is this what all this was about?”

  Now, she looked offended. “I have sex because I want to have sex,” she said, and her voice trembled with anger. “I wanted to have it with you. If you’ll recall, I was the one who approached you, before I even knew you might be in the club.”

  Her eyes were an incandescent blue, like a welder’s torch. “I believe you,” he said. “But right now, I’m not even sure I’m in.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I have to do three challenges,” he said, remembering the sleep-deprived haze of the previous night. “In one month. Tough, weird challenges. If I make it, I’m in.”

  “And if you’re in, you could vouch for me?”

  “I don’t even know that I can make it.”

  “You’ll make it.” She smiled brightly. “I can help you with that.”

  He stared at her. “How do you know that?”

  “Trust me. I’m resourceful,” she said, her face shining with confidence. “Especially when I want something badly. Believe me, I want this more badly than I can remember wanting anything for a long time.”

  He stared at her.

  Including me?

  She cleared her throat. “So, what are the goals?”

  He wracked his fuzzy mind, trying to remember what he’d agreed to. “I need to do a vision quest in the Mojave. Crash an off-the-hook, epic, impossible-to-get-into party. And, er…run.”

  “Run?” she repeated, frowning.

  He rubbed his hands over his face. “With the bulls. In Pamplona.” He sighed again. Then he pulled on his pants. “You know, this is a bad idea.”

  “This sounds perfect,” she pressed. “I think—no, I know I can do this. I can help you out, and then you can help me out. We’ll help each other!”

  He knew that feeling. Which was why he didn’t want anyone—even a gorgeous, hell-on-wheels-in-bed blonde—to possibly jeopardize his chance. “Sorry. I just don’t think it’s going to work.”

  She frowned. She wasn’t pouting—as Kayla might in her place—she wasn’t using passive-aggressive techniques, guilting him or seducing him. Although honestly, part of him wouldn’t mind it if she tried seducing him to change his mind…

  Knock it off, he scolded his penis. Let me do the thinking for once.

  She sighed. “Well, you’ve got a right to do what you want.”

  He nodded, feeling a little guilty anyway. “Um…well.”

  “Well.”

  She just wanted him because of his connections, he thought, bitterness stabbing at him like a switchblade. He lashed out.

  “Guess I’ll be staying away from windows, then.”

  Her eyes widened, and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear she looked hurt. She sat up straight like he’d pinched her.

  Then her eyes narrowed. She leaned down on the bed next to him, lanky and nude. Her smile was sweet…somehow too sweet.

  “Well, with all these adventures, you won’t have time to climb through any windows,” she mused. “And since I’ll have nothing better to do, I guess I’ll just hang out with my best friend.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head, standing up. He made for the door.

  Her next words stopped him cold.

  “Did I mention my best friend’s a reporter?” she asked. “One who’d probably love to do a feature about The Player’s Club?”

  5

  AMANDA SAT UNCOMFORTABLY cross-legged on the hard-packed sand, wondering absently how in the hell she’d ever considered this a good idea.

  You wanted to be here. You used blackmail to do it.

  A little fact she was still regretting.

  “Fine,” Scott had said. “You can go with me to the Mojave. And if you make it—if you don’t complain or chicken out—then I’ll vouch for you. But if you don’t, then you can’t tell anyone. Not your reporter, not anyone.”

  She’d agreed, and one weekend later, she was here in the Mojave.

  She was in this position partially for her desire for adventure, she admitted, but the rest of it was out of pure spite. The thought of him sleeping with her, then saying he wasn’t going to anymore because she’d asked about the Club, had struck her as horribly unfair. Maybe he was the adventurous type, maybe he went through women like bottled water.

  Whatever, she thought with hostility. She was tired of being the “nice” girl who was understanding, kind. And boring.

  Well-behaved women rarely make history.

  “Now, we’re going to enter the mindset of the vision quest. Please take a deep breath, and listen to the sounds of nature,” the dreadlocked guide, Rebecca, said in her best earth-goddess impersonation. There were seventeen other people there with Amanda and Scott. From what Amanda could tell, there were several people who had done this particular camping adventure several times. Their backpacks were well-worn, their hiking boots covered with dust. A few wore tie-dye T-shirts and sported pleasantly vacant smiles, suggesting either a state of camping Zen or perhaps an herbal enhancement. Other people were more like Amanda. Several looked like business types—they had brand-new camp equipment and kept sneaking peeks at their watches. They did not look amused by Rebecca’s encouragement.

  Amanda tried, she really did. She closed her eyes. The stillness was startling. She heard all the other campers’ slight shifts of movement, nervous coughs.

  After what seemed like forever, Rebecca sighed. “All right. You’ve picked your camping spots. Today, I’m sending you out to go three days and nights into the wilderness. Some of you will find wisdom. Some of you may even have visions.”

  Amanda glanced at the guy to her left, who smiled at her with low-lidded, red-rimmed eyes. Ten bucks says this guy already had a vision, Amanda thought, then shook
her head.

  “Drink your water. Blow your whistle if you run into any trouble, and remember, you’ll be leaving a check-in note with your camp buddy every morning, to ensure that you stay safe all three days. All right? Great! Get to it!”

  Scott walked alongside Amanda, not looking directly at her. “Doing okay, camp buddy?”

  She nodded. They’d scouted sites together the day before, and she’d tossed and turned her way through the night in her new sleeping bag. “Hanging in there,” she said.

  He nodded, and they kept walking silently.

  Why couldn’t he have gotten a four-star hotel in Bali as an adventure?

  But of course, she didn’t have to be here. She’d forced, connived and coerced her way here. There was a big, fat “Be careful what you wish for” proverb here, but she didn’t want to think about it.

  They reached the canyon that split their two “camp” sites. “I’ll leave a note checking in,” she said woodenly, starting to strike out toward her solitary plateau.

  “My site isn’t too far from yours,” Scott called to her, stopping her. “So yell if you get into any trouble, okay?”

  The fact that he actually said it warmed her. “I won’t get into any trouble,” she answered him, lacking the confidence to mean it.

  She went off to her campsite, watching with concern as he vanished through a canyon not far away. He was camped on top of a small mesa, but one of the conditions of the vision quest was that they couldn’t be in eyesight of each other. So once he disappeared, she was completely alone.

  She frowned. Okay. Three days and nights. No music. No, er, food. She put down her gallons of water and her backpack, and got to work setting up camp.

  After an hour, she’d already cut her thumb on a sharp rock. The tarp she was supposed to be using as a tent had become an unwitting parasail, dragging her across the desert before she could get it under control. Her stomach yowled in protest at all the exertion without food. She wished she’d smuggled in a few energy bars or something. Maybe chocolate.

  Her stomach really yowled when she thought of chocolate.