Playing For Her Heart

by Megan Erickson

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll tell your father you said hello. Have a nice day, sweetie.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  Chloe hung up the phone and tossed it onto the counter with a clatter. She’d made it through that conversation in one piece, and yet, she wanted to crawl under her covers. Or throw herself into work. Other than anonymous sex, being an introvert and working her ass off were the only skills she excelled at.

  But the older she got, the more she wondered if there was more to life. There had been for her at one time, before everything crumbled around her.

  Instead of retreating to a bedsheets cave, she took a bath, in the middle of a Saturday morning, like the grownup she was, using a bath bomb that made her whole bathroom smell like lavender. She loved her claw-footed tub, which she’d brought from her last apartment and had installed immediately.

  She wrapped her e-reader in two plastic storage bags and read a romance novel full of sweet kissing and heavy petting.

  In the past, that would have been enough to get her hot, to maybe touch herself with pruney fingers beneath the water. But now, her eyes glossed over the words, wanting to read something dirtier with a hero who talked like Breck, who handled a woman’s body as deftly as he’d handled hers.

  She dropped her kindle on the mat and closed her eyes, leaning back in the tub as she imagined Breck was sitting in the opposite side of the tub. First, he’d tell her to bend over and clutch the edge of the tub, so her ass was facing him. He’d smack it, play with her, running his fingers over her slick flesh until she was begging.

  Chloe ran her hand down her belly and stroked her folds under the water, feeling the slickness that was her own making. She swirled the pad of her middle finger over her clit, imagined it was Breck’s hand.

  He’d tell her to straddle his waist, and she would, impaling herself on his cock as he sucked on her nipples and palmed her breasts. She’d ride him, hard. And she’d change the angle until she found that spot that he’d awakened that night in the hotel room. The spot inside that had made her see stars.

  Chloe opened her mouth, groaning, feeling the orgasm start in her curled toes. Breck was urging her on now, pulling her hair, gripping her ass tightly under the water as she cried out. He’d bite the tender skin at her shoulder as he came inside of her.

  When Chloe opened her eyes, there was water sloshed out on the floor all around the tub, and the remaining water had cooled.

  She laughed to herself, thinking that while that had been a poor substitute for the man, it’d been the best self-love session she’d ever had. “Thanks for that, Breck,” she muttered as she stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel.

  In her bedroom, she was dressing in a pair of loose gaucho pants and a large T-shirt, because she sure as heck wasn’t going out in public, when the doorbell rang.

  With a towel wrapped around her head, she made her way to the front door and peered through the peephole. As suspected, her brother stood at the door, holding a white paper bag, staring expectantly at the doorknob.

  She thunked her head on the door, making a note to buy a secret cabin somewhere no one could find her, and then opened it. Ethan brushed past her, eyes scanning the apartment. He sniffed the air as he placed the paper bag on her kitchen counter. “What smells so good?”

  “Sausage tortellini soup.” He made an eager face and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, you can have some.”

  Ethan smiled, and Chloe thought that she’d make that soup every day of Ethan’s life if she got a smile like that out of him. He didn’t do it nearly as often anymore, which sucked because he used to be the fun one of the three of them, the carefree daredevil. He teased Chloe, and joked with her and Samantha about boys.

  And then the accident happened, Samantha died, and it was like Ethan had a personality transplant. And because she loved him, she let him fret over her like a mother hen, knowing he felt like he had a debt to repay. Taking care of the sister who was still alive was the way he coped, and although it was unhealthy, it was the only mechanism he had. He’d refused to go to counseling, and she couldn’t fix him, even through she’d tried. So she avoided any topics that would make him anxious, did everything she could to keep him happy, and let him fuss and dote, as long as it made him feel better.

  Which was exhausting, to be honest.

  He gestured to the bag. “I brought you some of those chocolate chip sugar cakes you like.”

  That got her feet moving. In a flash she was at the counter, peering into the bag. “Really? You didn’t have to do that.” She took out a sugar cake and bit into it immediately. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. Sugar cakes were like a large cookie but softer, more like a dense cake. And the top layer had the perfect sprinkle of sugar that had melted and cracked in the oven so there was just the slightest bit of crispness. She moaned. “You’re my favorite brother ever.”

  His smile didn’t fade, and she beamed at him. He was a handsome man, beyond handsome. Every single one of Chloe’s and Samantha’s friends had crushed on star baseball pitcher Ethan Talley.

  Despite the visible scars, he was just as handsome in Chloe’s mind, even if he didn’t think so.

  “I’m having dinner with my new business partner, Grant. He was a friend of mine in college.”

  She vaguely remembered the name. “Okay.”

  “I’d like you to come.”

  The sugar cake didn’t taste so good anymore. She moved to the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk, buying time. She hated saying no to Ethan. “Why do you want me to come?” She’d never gone on any business dinners before. Ethan had his hands in a lot of pies, always had. He’d gotten rich quick in college by commentating while playing video games and uploading the videos to YouTube. He had the personality and the skill to cultivate a huge following, which turned into a huge source of income from advertising revenue. Turned out, that money was more of a curse than a blessing, at least in Chloe’s mind. She wasn’t sure how Ethan felt. He’d only seemed to have gotten richer since then, although he wasn’t reckless anymore, and didn’t flaunt it. His car and his house were his only visible splurges.

  Okay, he had some great clothes, too. And that watch looked new.

  “I think it’d be good to get you out of the house.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ethan, you don’t have to spend so much effort getting me to be social. I don’t need a keeper.”

  He frowned. “Well, I’d also like to include you in what I do. In my life,” he said.

  She drank down her milk and studied Ethan. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, admitting that he wanted his little sister involved in his life. And even though attending one of his business dinners sounded like torture, she was touched he wanted her involved in his life. “When is it?”

  “Thursday.”

  “Dress code.”

  He hesitated. “It’s a nice place. Men wear jackets.”

  Great, so no gaucho pants. Thank God for online shopping. “Okay.”

  There was that smile again. “Great, I’ll text you place and time.”

  “Is that why you bought me sugar cakes? To butter me up?”

  He smirked. “Nah, just thought you were getting too skinny. So, when’s the soup going to be ready?”

  Chloe turned around to gather bowls, thinking she had a good couple of days to gather up the energy for this dinner.

  After Ethan left, Chloe figured she’d procrastinated long enough so she sat down at her desk to begin work for the day.

  She had her ritual—Sari mug, which she turned so that the illustrated Breck was not visible—her Wonder Woman mouse pad, and her Game of Thrones background on her desktop Mac. Because Daenerys was awesome and so were her dragons. Chloe remembered when Samantha was alive, she’d ordered a latte from Starbucks and told the barista her name was Daenerys. The barista had written Mother of Dragons on her cup. Chloe and Samantha had laughed about it for weeks.

  Chloe smiled at the memory, and ran her lip over the rim of her coffee
cup.

  Maybe she’d cosplay as Daenerys next year, or maybe Sansa, another character from Game of Thrones, because their dresses were gorgeous.

  Chloe closed her eyes, the hair on her arms rising as she thought of Breck. It would be a long time before she forgot about him, before she could have another man touch her and not wish it was him.

  For now, she took a sip of her coffee, opened up her email, and lost herself in her work. This was Chloe Talley at her finest, when she knew what the hell she was doing and did it with confidence. Code was black and white. Websites were secure or not. She recently left the software company she’d been working for and struck out as a freelancer, one of the best in the business, hired by banks and other institutions to penetrate their sites and find the weak spots.

  She could do that, but the weak spots in her family? In her own life? Too numerous and complicated to figure out, like a cancer.

  Except in Breck’s arms. She’d sure as hell knew what she was doing then.

  “Stop it, Chloe,” she muttered to herself. “Forget him.”

  It didn’t work.

  Chapter Four

  Grant sat at a table in Carrington’s waiting for Ethan Talley, one of his friends and his new partner in ownership of Gamers Magazine.

  For the last decade, Grant had owned Gamers with his best friend Austin Rivers, but Austin had decided to sell his ownership of the company, and Ethan had picked it up. Their new partnership gave Grant the excuse to get Ethan out of his penthouse. If the guy had his way, he’d stay locked in there all the time like a fucking hermit, playing video games and uploading his comments online.

  Grant usually found an excuse to meet Ethan for dinner or some other type of social arrangement. He had met Ethan after his sister’s death, when he was already a grouchy recluse, but Grant got the sense that Ethan hadn’t always been like that. Sometimes Ethan told him stories of things he used to do, the places he used to travel, and it broke Grant’s heart a little bit that Ethan did none of those things anymore.

  Grant checked his phone. No text from Sydney so all must be okay. At a mature fourteen, she was old enough to be left home alone, plus, she’d shown herself to be responsible. She had a paper to write, so he knew she’d be busy until he got home.

  The chair across from Grant scraped across the floor. He dropped his phone onto the table and looked up. Ethan sat across from him, pale blue eyes stark in the dimmed light of the restaurant.

  “Nice of you to join me, Mr. Talley.”

  Ethan scowled. Sometimes Grant amused him but apparently this was not one of those times. “Traffic is a bitch.”

  To the point, that was Ethan. “So—”

  “Whisky neat,” Ethan ordered to the slim waiter who’d appeared at their table like a ghost.

  Grant smiled at the guy, who was clearly startled by Ethan’s abrupt order. “I’ll take another Riesling, thanks.”

  The waiter vanished as quickly as he came. “Would it kill you to say thank you?” Grant asked.

  Ethan ignored him. “My sister will be joining us.”

  Grant cocked his head. Ethan had two sisters, and only one was alive—the younger one—whom Grant had never met. “What’s her name again?”

  “Chloe,” Ethan said.

  “That’s it. I was wondering why they seated us at a table for three.”

  “I called and changed the reservation.”

  “And what’s the reason for your sister coming?”

  The waiter returned with their drinks. Grant spun his glass on the ivory tablecloth while Ethan sipped his whiskey. “She recently moved here. I”—he swallowed—“prefer her close. And she’s a freelance software debugger so she can work anywhere, really.”

  “I didn’t realize that’s what she did.”

  “Yes, and she’s very good. In high demand.” Pride was evident in Ethan’s voice.

  Grant smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Since she’s new to the area, I wanted to invite her out.” Ethan paused and leaned forward, pinning Grant with a glare. “I had thought this didn’t need to be said, but on second thought, I believe it does.” Grant braced, not liking the ice shards in Ethan’s eyes. “You touch my sister or look at her wrong and so help me God, I’ll dismantle you.”

  Grant’s stomach felt hollow, the force of Ethan’s words stealing the breath from his lungs. Ethan was blunt and a little cold, but never threatening. “Jesus, Ethan. I’m not some caveman. I’m sure I can control myself from rutting against her in public.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Grant.”

  “And I’m not laughing, but what is she, twenty-eight? You’re not her protector.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could shove them back in.

  Ethan’s entire body was one giant iceberg. Grant swore he could see his own breath in the chill.

  “Don’t tell me how to treat my family,” the man said through gritted teeth.

  Grant swallowed, his hackles immediately lowering. Ethan had already lost one sister, a death he blamed on himself. Sometimes Grant wondered how Ethan got out of bed every day with the weight of the guilt he’d placed on himself. Grant purposefully kept his gaze away from Ethan’s neck and jaw, where the burn scars marred his skin. “You’re right, Ethan. And I’m sorry. Either way, I’m looking forward to meeting Chloe.”

  Ethan didn’t move for a minute, then slowly, his body seemed to thaw. He picked up his whiskey and drained it. “She’s a little shy, but I’m very proud of her.”

  Heels clicking on the tile floor announced the arrival of shy-but-smart Chloe. Grant was midsip of his wine when he spotted her feet, encased in a pair of flesh-colored heels. Something about her ankles, the delicate bone. He flashed back to his princess, the way her breasts rose and fell as he licked at her ankle bone.

  His stomach flipped.

  He let his gaze travel up, his skin heating as he took in her knees, the way her thighs and hips shifted beneath the thin pencil skirt.

  His fingers itched, remembering how they clutched Sari’s hips in a bruising grip, how she’d arched her back and rode his cock.

  Chloe’s steps faltered, and Grant continued up, up, up until his gaze locked with hers.

  His beautiful warrior princess’s green eyes met his. And Grant almost spewed his wine across the table. Instead he swallowed it, and wished he had an excuse to take the glass and gulp down the rest of it until he couldn’t remember a damn thing.

  Sari was Chloe.

  Two weeks ago, Grant had fucked Ethan’s sister. He’d slapped her tits and licked her clit and stuck his cock in her mouth before he’d gripped her hair and rode her while she squirmed under him, begging him to fuck her harder.

  He was going to hell. Although, hell might be better than what Ethan was going to do to him. Any minute now, Chloe was going to mention they’d met. Then the questions would start, and Grant wondered if he had his will all set, because his life was flashing before his eyes right now.

  Except Chloe hadn’t said a word. She stared at him, those green eyes completely terrified, unless he was reading her wrong. Her hair was short now, only brushing her shoulders in a cute bob. She swallowed, her voice trembling a little as she held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Chloe Talley.”

  Grant thought maybe she didn’t recognize him, but there was a pleading in her eyes, and they were a little wet, her thick, dark lashes blinking rapidly.

  He didn’t know if she was doing this for herself or for him, but he was taking the life preserver she was throwing him. He’d clutch it to his chest until this fucking storm of a dinner was over.

  He realized he was still sitting, staring at her like she was a circus freak. He discretely rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and stood up. “Grant Osprey.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Her voice was firmer now, and she sat down in the chair that Ethan had pulled out for her. Ever the vigilant brother, his gaze was ping-ponging back and forth between them.

  Grant settled into his seat. �
�Nice to meet you, too. Ethan is happy to have you in town where he can practice his stalking tendencies.”

  She blushed prettily and ducked her head, the ends of her hair brushing her chin. She kind of looked like a Russian Bond Girl or something with that haircut. Fuck, this was bad. So bad. Why couldn’t she be ugly? A bad lay? Something?

  “It’s nice to be back near family,” she said. And Grant’s heart pulsed in sympathy. The family had been through a lot with the death of their sister. Chloe didn’t look any less broken up about it now.

  Great, so not only did Grant want to fuck Ethan’s sister, but he wanted to console her, too.

  They were snug at a round table, the three of them. Chloe was so close the heat of her body warmed his side. The fabric of her skirt swished when she crossed and uncrossed her legs. The bracelets on her wrists jangled as she picked up the menu and looked over it.

  When the waiter arrived again, he took Chloe’s drink, as well as their food orders. She was quiet, sipping her merlot while Ethan talked about Gamers. Grant contributed to the conversation as best as he could, but half of his mind was on Chloe. She was quiet, almost too quiet. Where was his brazen princess? The one who was bold enough to approach him, who flirted shamelessly in a tavern, and who undressed in front of him with barely a hesitation?

  The woman beside him now was soft-spoken and nervous. The waves of anxiety rolling off her were making him anxious. And Grant didn’t get anxious.

  There was a lull in the conversations as their food arrived. Grant knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t stop poking it to see if it’d flare up. God, he was like a little kid with fireworks.

  “So Ethan says you’re one of the best at what you do?” he asked.

  Chloe cut a small piece of chicken from the breast. “I-I have no trouble finding work.”

  Grant frowned, wondering why she had to hedge it like that.

  “She’s just being Chloe. Modest as always. She’s extremely talented,” Ethan said. “She recently performed penetrative testing for a large bank in…where was that, Chloe?”

  “Germany,” she said.