Side Game (Men of Trance Book 2)

by Nicole Loufas

  “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

  I beeline to the locker room to change. I’m so off my game, the safest place for me right now is home.

  ***

  My computer is ringing as I walk through the door. Only one person calls at this hour—Antonia. I could have answered it, but I’m not in the mood. I won’t be able to muster the enthusiasm she requires. Pretending I’m jacked about moving to Brazil just ain’t happening right now. I don’t want to admit this, but Rico was right: I’m not feeling Brazil. It could be Leeyan or my parents losing their home, but I need time to refocus before I talk to Antonia.

  I set the pizza box on the kitchen counter and go to the bathroom to shower. All of Leeyan’s things are gone. Seeing the empty slot where her toothbrush should be stings in a way I never thought possible.

  It’s just a fucking toothbrush!

  I’ve never had a roommate and I’m an only child, so flying solo comes naturally. Now that I’ve had a taste of companionship, the thought of being alone makes my eyes burn.

  Fuck it. I’m just going to admit it.

  I like Leeyan.

  She’s messy in every way a woman can be: in the bathroom, in life, in love—especially love—but she’s also fun to be around. I wonder where our lives would be if we had been friends from the jump, if I was a better friend to Theo. If I had supported his relationship with Leeyan instead of resenting it, things might have worked out between them. Theo might have stayed in school. I would have stayed there with him and never worked at Trance. My father wouldn’t loathe me.

  An overwhelming feeling of loneliness hits me in the gut. The only thing saving me from falling apart is the pepperoni pizza in the other room. I toss on a pair of shorts before heading to the kitchen because I don’t eat naked. That’s weird.

  I flip the box open and rip off a slice.

  Come to daddy.

  Grease runs down my hand as I fold the gooey slice in half. The few seconds before the pizza hits my tongue is torture. I can taste the spicy sweet sauce on my lips, but before I can shove the entire thing into my mouth, someone knocks on the door.

  Fred is supposed to announce all visitors. Whoever is at my door must live in the building, and since I’m a shitty fucking neighbor, I ignore the knocking.

  I stuff the slice in my mouth, and it tastes better than sex feels.

  I pick up another slice.

  Another knock.

  Fuck off, I’m eating pizza!

  Another knock.

  This one is in code. Three short knocks, slight pause, two knocks, and then one more. That was Theo’s secret code. He came up with it in college. My time there was brief, but my sexual conquests were many.

  I drop the pizza and open the door.

  It’s Leeyan.

  And she’s crying.

  “Are you all right?” I pull her inside and close the door. “What happened?”

  I just made a fool of myself.” She walks to the kitchen, opens the cabinet, and pulls out the whiskey. She doesn’t even bother with a glass, just shoots it right out of the bottle. “He’s in love with Sylvie.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Theo, he’s in love with Sylvie. They’re together,” she spits out—literally. Whiskey sprays my chin. She opens the cabinet again and removes a glass. “I went there to beg for forgiveness. I was ready to swallow my pride for a chance to be a family,” she cries. “But the truth is, I don’t want him. I just want Lulu.”

  “You don’t have to be with Theo to have a relationship with Lulu.”

  She takes a drink like her glass is filled with ice-cold water, not room-temperature whiskey.

  “I thought if he took me back, if he forgave me, maybe Lulu would too.”

  “Did you see her?”

  “Yes.” She’s crying even harder. “She’s so amazing. Why didn’t you tell me how incredible she was?”

  “You have to witness Lulu firsthand to really get it.”

  “I want to hate Theo, but he knocked it out of the park with that little girl.” She shakes her head in dismay. “Does he do anything wrong? Tell me he’s a porn addict or something. He can’t be the perfect father.”

  “Other than being broke and barely making rent, Theo is the best dad I know.”

  Leeyan sighs then wipes her cheek on the sleeve of her hoodie.

  “Honestly, I’m relieved.” Leeyan grabs a clean glass and fills it halfway. She places it in front of me.

  I take a sip.

  “Knowing he’s in love with someone else kind of lets me off the hook. I can just focus on getting my daughter back. It won’t be easy, but now that I’ve seen Lulu, I fully understand what I’ve missed. I was a fool to believe she didn’t want me in her life.”

  I think for the first time in Leeyan’s life, the idea of being a mom feels right.

  “How did Lulu react when she saw you?”

  “She was timid. Sylvie encouraged her to sit with me.” She pulls her phone and shows me a selfie. “We look alike.”

  They do. So much more than I ever realized.

  “Lulu looks happy.” I’m not lying. I know the kid, that smile is one hundred.

  “I only agreed to stay because Lulu didn’t want me to leave. I know what that kind of fears is like. Being afraid your mother will leave and not come back. I won’t repeat that cycle. I’ll fight. I’ll do anything it takes to be with my daughter.”

  Fathers come and go out of their children’s lives. If they're given leniency because they weren’t ready to be parents. Then women should be awarded the same. Just because Leeyan carried Lulu for nine months, that doesn’t mean she was psychologically prepared to be a parent. She’s the first to admit she screwed up. Everyone deserves a second chance. Even the assholes.

  “I’ve spent too much time focusing on the person I don’t want to become instead of the woman I want to be.”

  I see that woman inside of her, the one fighting to come out. "When do I get to meet her?”

  She looks up as if she just realized I’m standing here. Her eyes are all lit, her face is glowing.

  “You helped create her.”

  My phone buzzes; I ignore it. Nothing is going to tempt me away from this apartment.

  “I didn’t do anything—except let you sleep on my really uncomfortable couch.”

  “Your couch sucks.” She tweaks her back in a playful response. “Really, Gio. You gave me time to get my shit together. I really appreciate you.”

  “I was just here to kick some balls.” I try not to blush, but I feel my face warm. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  “Speaking of credit.” An evil grin spreads across Leeyan’s face. “I still need to collect on my dance.”

  I suck in a breath—me, the dude. My breath hitches at the look of playful desire on Leeyan’s pretty face. If there was ever a moment to let feelings take control, this is it.

  She moved out. I’m moving to Brazil.

  On a scale of bad ideas, this pegs the meter.

  I play it cool, like Mr. Grey.

  “All right let me clean up first.”

  “Yeah, cause sloppy seconds ain’t my style,” she sasses.

  “Try sloppy fourths.” I step around her.

  She pushes my hand off her shoulder. “Ew.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I prison shower—only the important areas, and in record time. When I return to the living room, Leeyan has it staged for my performance.

  My desk chair sits in the center of the room.

  The lights are dimmed.

  Music plays on the surround sound.

  A bottle of Jameson sits on the counter beside two glasses, each filled a quarter of the way, a single ice cube in one.

  She springs up from the couch.

  “Wait there.”

  She turns off the light above the stove in the kitchen then picks up the glasses.

  “Cheers.” I toss back the entire glass.


  She’s going to get her money’s worth with interest. Tonight isn’t just about pleasing a client; I have my own fantasy to fulfill. Now that I know Theo has completely moved on, I get my chance. The one I blew the night I was late to the club.

  Leeyan sets her glass on the counter.

  “Where do you want me?”

  I take her hand and lead her to the chair. I make sure the wheels are locked then guide her into the seat. She’s giddy and silly, like someone just pulled her on stage at a magic show. She’s treating this like it’s a joke, but she changed her clothes. She’s in easy-access sweats and a pink sports tank with a built-in bra.

  An Ed Sheeran song comes on, it isn’t something I usually dance to. When I try to change it, she stops me.

  “No, I like this.”

  “I’m not feeling his vibe.” I pick up my phone and scroll through the list.

  “I paid for this, so I should have a say in the music.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, honey.” I’m in full suave mode. “Don’t worry, you’ll be happy with what I choose.”

  “Can you choose something by Ed Sheeran?” Her persistence is cute. It also turns me on. She has a fantasy too, and I’m all about making dreams come true.

  “Okay.” I scroll back to a song I had considered for a routine. It’s bluesy and rarely played on the radio, which is why I didn’t use it. I want my songs played everywhere. I want women to hear them and remember me. Return customers pay the bills.

  The song begins and I spin around in full character. Her silly grin slips into a look of desire. We don’t break eye contact as I cross the room. I stand in front of her, slowly swaying my hips, my hand runs over her head, and then she does something I’m not ready for.

  She stands up.

  Her arms snake around my neck. We hold each other politely and move to the music. Her hand lingers on my neck. The other hand raises my shirt. I take the hint. I pull it off and toss it on the floor then run my hand through her hair, something I’ve wanted to do for weeks. We touch and look at each other in every way we’ve avoided since she got here.

  When I can’t take another second of being this close, I lift her into my arms and spin her around before setting her down in front of the couch. She goes up on her tiptoes to press her lips to my neck. My eyes close and I rub my head against hers like a cat begging for attention. She slides back down to her normal height, her lips tracing my neck. I bury my face in her hair. She smells like me, and a woman who smells like Old Spice Swagger wouldn’t normally turn me on, but she’s the exception.

  We stay in this moment, live in it as the song continues to play.

  My hands on her face.

  Her lips on my chest.

  I don’t even try to hide my arousal. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s pressed against me. I feel her chest rise with every breath she takes.

  “Gio,” she finally says.

  I angle my head to see her face, the face I’ve looked forward to seeing every day for the past two weeks. She places her hand on my cheek, and I mirror her movement. She’s in control—she always has been. I pull her closer and bend at the knees so she has a better look into my soul.

  She doesn’t speak, her eyes watching my mouth. As soon as she makes her move, my eyes close. When her lips find mine, something in my chest unlocks and flutters out. Our lips get acquainted before she introduces her tongue. Her mouth is small, soft, succulent. I could kiss her for hours.

  “I want more,” she whispers.

  I carry her to the bedroom and lay her on my bed. She lifts her hips and pulls her sweats off. She’s wearing plain white panties. When you have a woman in your bed who can rock white cotton panties, you’ve hit the jackpot.

  I crawl up the bed and end up with my face in her vagina. She moans, which tells me I’m doing things right. Leeyan has been with women, who were better at this than me. I twirl my tongue and she arches her back. Her hands find my head. I move my mouth faster, my tongue deeper. Just when I think she’s going to come, she pulls me up for air.

  “Fuck me,” she demands.

  Most of the women I fuck relinquish their control to me. They want to be ravished. I’m the lion, they’re the lamb. Leeyan is not that kind of woman. She is vocal. She’s the alpha.

  I pull my shorts off and kneel in between her legs. I take a few seconds to look at her, watch her. Small lines—stretch marks—stripe her abdomen. Her breasts are small and round, nipples dark and hard. I’ve imagined her naked body while I showered, while she slept, but nothing could have prepared me for the naturally beautiful woman lying beneath me.

  “Gio.” Her voice draws me back.

  I lower myself to kiss her, the head of my dick brushes against her, and my mouth melts into hers.

  “You feel so good,” I moan.

  My words are natural, real. Nothing happening right now was negotiated or paid for. Nothing about this moment is fake.

  She pushes on my chest and I open my eyes.

  “Don’t you think we should use a condom?”

  Oh shit.

  The last thing I need is a surprise baby. I open the drawer on the nightstand and pull out a foil-wrapped lifesaver. I rip it open and slide it on with one hand.

  “Did you practice that move?” Leeyan teases.

  “No—yes.” I’ve had lots of practice, but I don’t want to think about those encounters. They were business; this is pleasure.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, as if we’re about to jump out of an airplane. That’s what this feels like: fear and adrenaline.

  “Are you?” she counters, legs spread open, waiting for me to slide inside.

  I’m hard and ready for what comes next.

  I hope it isn’t me.

  I want this to last.

  I want to be her last.

  This train of thought reminds me of her first.

  The realization that I’m about to go inside of Theo’s ex-girlfriend hits me.

  I’m going to have sex with Leeyan.

  I’m inches away, several inches, from breaking the number one bro code. Leeyan squirms impatiently beneath me. She wants me.

  Me.

  The guy she met on the roof of Oasis.

  I center my hips with hers and push forward. I slip easily inside. The condom is lubed, but mostly it’s her. She’s wet for me.

  We kiss as we make love. It’s new to me. I try not to kiss while I fuck. When I do, the kisses are short and hard, but Leeyan seems to enjoy my tongue just as much as my cock. I feel closer, deeper in her than any woman I’ve ever been with. She’s blowing my mind.

  I kiss Leeyan deeper, pump harder. I hook my right hand under her knee and use it for leverage. She reaches for my head, pulling me back to her mouth. She sucks my tongue and my body goes into spasms as I have the best orgasm of my life.

  She continues to kiss me, knowing I’ve already come. That’s when I realize she didn’t.

  Fuck me.

  I roll off her and remove the used condom. I toss it on the floor and reach into the drawer for a new one.

  “Seriously?” She props herself up on her elbows to inspect my dick. “He doesn’t look ready for round two.”

  “Give me a minute.” I stand and head to the bathroom.

  “Gio, wait.” She sits up. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

  “Do what?” I play dumb.

  She sighs and bites her lip. I feel a confession coming on.

  “I saw the bottle in the cabinet.”

  She doesn’t have to elaborate.

  “I wasn’t going to…” I stop before the lie slips out. Why bother? She knows. “But you didn’t…”

  “It’s not worth taking the pill. I don’t want an altered version of you.” She glances at my limp dick. “Don’t force it.”

  I walk back to the bed and sit face to face with Leeyan. “The little blue pill doesn’t force anything. It’s still all me.”

  Her hand is on my wet, limp noodle so fast I don’t have time to
protect myself.

  “This is you.” She repositions her grip. “When you’re ready, we’ll go again and again.” She kisses my chin then gently bites me. I begin to stiffen in her hand, and she feels it. “See.”

  I grab her arms and force her onto her back, her hands above her head. I lick her neck then move lower to her nipples. I circle them with my tongue, and she bucks in response. I place my knee between her legs so she has something to push back against. I keep licking until her moaning peaks and she comes.

  Now I’m ready for round two. I curse the condom as I put it on and understand, finally, why men hate these slippery little things. I want to feel Leeyan inside and out. Even through the condom, the torturous sensation is almost too much to take; I wouldn’t last five minutes if I were bare. Imagine the feeling you get when your foot falls asleep and you try to walk; it tickles to the point of pain. Sex the second time around, just minutes after coming, feels euphoric, better than any drug or pill could offer.

  It’s nearly dawn when I finally lie down to sleep with Leeyan cuddled in my arms beneath my six-hundred-dollar sheets.

  “These are ruined,” I tease as I tuck the sheet around her.

  “It’s just a sheet.”

  I don’t want to drop the price tag and sound like a douche. I’m a douche for even thinking about it.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last three years, it’s that things don’t matter. I had nothing when I left for the army. Everything I needed, the army provided—food, clothes, a bed.”

  I’ve built my life around things, replacing people with clothes, cars, and money. Those things have never let me down.

  “When it boils down to it, people don’t need much, they want. I wouldn’t lay my life down for this country to protect a man’s car or a house. We don’t fight to protect things—we fight for people. Tomorrow, I’m going to start fighting.”

  I feel like a line is about to be drawn, one I won’t be able to straddle.

  “I want to kick myself for not seeing Lulu sooner. If I had…”

  “Don’t look back. You’re not going in that direction.”

  Leeyan kisses my hand. “Did you read that somewhere?”

  “I did.” I kiss her shoulder. “It was on a sign at the gym.”