Game (Gentry Boys #3) Read online

Page 3


  “I never had any doubt that she wouldn’t come.” Say’s eyes misted over. She cried more easily these days and I knew it had something to do with the changes coursing through her body. The other day she’d cried for ten minutes when I failed to wash out my cereal bowl.

  I handed Saylor a napkin and she dabbed at her nose. I considered making some kind of wisecrack designed to lighten her mood a bit. It’s what I was best at and she might have even answered with a weak smile. It would also be painfully short of what she needed.

  My hand touched her shoulder and her green eyes lifted. I cleared my throat. “Say, I know it seems like you’ve lost something on the day you were supposed to get everything. It’s not fair. But babe, you didn’t just get Cordero today. You’ve now got two brothers who would crawl over broken glass for you. So hopefully knowing that makes it hurt a little less.”

  Saylor smiled, forgetting her tears. “There’s no one luckier than me, Chase. With the Gentry boys next to me, how could it be otherwise?”

  Cord appeared, putting his hands on Saylor’s shoulders and shooting me a curious look. “I know you’re hard up, Chasyn, but don’t go trying to run off with my bride.” He noticed Saylor’s red face and knelt down next to her. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  Saylor stood up and gently held his head against her belly. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I just got lost in my own happiness for a minute.” She ran her fingers along the back of his neck. “Know what would make me even happier?”

  Cord looked up at her, his hands surrounding her delicate hips. “Name it.”

  She smiled, slow and sexy. “Starting our honeymoon.”

  “And that’s my exit cue,” I said loudly and started to back away. I wondered what that was like; to know that every night there was sex waiting, sex with the only girl you wanted to have sex with.

  That reminded me I’d had ambitions tonight. Steph had probably scampered back to her room but I wasn’t going to give up so easily this time. Of course it wasn’t the Cord/Saylor story of true love and other madness, but I’d been lusting after Stephanie longer than I was used to lusting after a girl. It was time to stop wondering what would happen when her pissed off glare melted into orgasmic quivering.

  I was already walking briskly to the elevator when I realized she was only about twenty feet in front of me, tripping on that stupid dress with her arms crossed. I paused while she pressed the elevator button. She craned her neck and glanced toward the buzzing casino but still stepped into the elevator when it opened. I waited for the space of a breath and before the doors could close I jumped in there with her.

  “Chase,” she said and looked surprised. She also didn’t have time to hide the way her eyes raked me over as a blush crossed her face.

  I grinned. “Stephanie.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Stephanie

  “So what floor are you on?” I was standing closest to the elevator panel and we were the only two people in there.

  Chase peered at the panel. “Nine,” he said mildly. That was actually my floor. I had already pressed the button.

  I faced the doors and crossed my arms again. Chase didn’t have much of a concept of personal space. The elevator wasn’t exactly roomy, but he really didn’t need to stand so closely that our arms touched. I wasn’t going to let on that it bothered me. It would only amuse him.

  “You having fun?” he asked.

  “It was a nice wedding. Saylor and Cord look very happy together.”

  Chase smiled. “You didn’t answer my question.” He was wearing a light blue button up shirt and he’d rolled the sleeves over his muscular forearms. The shirt was tucked into black trousers. The musky scent of his aftershave filled the elevator. It wasn’t overpowering but it was enough to remind me that he was all male. As if the heat of his body right next to mine wasn’t enough.

  “I’m having fun,” I told him.

  “What are you going back to your room for then?”

  “Why are you going back to yours?”

  “I have to take a piss.”

  “They have bathrooms downstairs.”

  He pretended the concept had never occurred to him. “Do they? Well shit, I didn’t even think to look. Too late now though. I’m already up here.”

  The elevator doors opened. A pair of giggling women stood on the other side. They were heavily made up, wore clothes several sizes too small and looked half wasted already. The brunette stared right at Chase with interest but he didn’t seem to notice. He followed me down the hall.

  I stopped. “What room are you in?”

  He looked around. “I forget.”

  “No you didn’t. What the hell are you trying to pull?”

  He changed the subject. “How are you doing in psych?”

  “What? You want to talk about psychology in the hallway of the Excalibur? I’m getting a B if you’re really that interested.”

  Chase nodded. “I’m getting an A. I could tutor you. You seem like you might need some help parsing out the id, the ego and the superego. I’ve got quite the astounding intellect, you know.”

  “Do you? Did your mother tell you that?”

  His expression darkened. “No, she didn’t.”

  I crossed my arms more tightly around my waist and the strap of my purse slid off my shoulder. Before I could react, Chase reached over and slid it back up my arm, his fingers brushing across my skin on the way down. I heard the way my own breathing shuddered to a stop as all kind of wild things happened to my body. Chase noticed. His blue eyes fastened on my face. I tore my arm away.

  “Chase,” I said sharply. “Cut the crap. This isn’t happening. I’m not some nasty skank who’s going to be grateful for an hour of your attention.”

  His eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Stephanie? I can offer you way more than an hour.” He moved closer, spoke more softly. “I can offer you the whole goddamn night, sweetheart.”

  I gathered my dignity, ignored the heat between my legs, and stalked away from him. I realized immediately that he was following me but I chose to ignore the fact until I reached my door.

  “Why didn’t you let me in last night?” he asked.

  I paused with the card key in my hand. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Yes you do,” he laughed, swiping the card key away from me. “I saw your shadow cross the peephole. I know you saw it was me.”

  All day I’d struggled to suppress the moment of temptation I’d suffered last night. I had seen him at the door. I had wanted to open it for him.

  Chase was holding the card key out of my reach. I had no intention of grabbing for it or begging for it. It’s what he wanted and someone had to show Chase Gentry he couldn’t always have whatever he wanted.

  “I’ll wait,” I said, leaning against the wall.

  He got close, facing me and resting his palms on the wall on either side of my shoulders. He didn’t touch me though.

  “Wait for what, Steph?” he asked slowly, seductively.

  “For you to leave. You’ll tire of this fucking game when you realize you’re not getting anywhere.”

  Chase appeared to be considering that. He leaned over and ran the card key through the slot, opening the door.

  “Fine,” he sighed. “Would have been amazing though.”

  I had no answer for that. Chase didn’t know me well enough to know how tough this was for me. Truly couldn’t have told him anything because I’d never even confessed to her how many mixed feelings I had about sex. I wanted it, fantasized about it, but was too self-conscious to enjoy myself when I got it. Sometimes I wondered if I had some kind of hormonal deficiency. Plus, thanks to Xavier, I was extra messed up now. These days the thought of getting naked in front of any man was revolting.

  Honestly, I was very attracted to Chase, no matter how much of a conceited prick he seemed to be. But if we did anything about it, I knew I’d never be able to keep up with him in that area. I couldn’t stomach the idea of
having him running around telling everybody how much I sucked in bed.

  Chase dispensed with his raunchy attitude as he held the door open. “Hey, I really do have to piss. You mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Help yourself,” I grumbled, following him inside the room.

  The first thing I did was turn the game on. The Dodgers were still on top but the score had narrowed. The Cubs were only two runs behind now. In spite of the fact that I had nothing at stake here I found myself rooting for the Cubs. Who doesn’t love a perennial loser?

  Chase exited the bathroom less than a minute later. He nodded at the game. “What inning is it?”

  “Bottom of the eighth. Cubs are down by two. If the Dodgers win they’ll go to the World Series. If the Cubs win there will be another game.”

  Chase chuckled. “I understand the way it works, Steph.” He perched on the edge of the bed. He did it in such a way that it didn’t seem lewd. He sank down as if it was just a convenient place for him to sit.

  I was still standing awkwardly by the television “You a baseball fan?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Sometimes I lose track of the standings during regular play but I always watch the post season. Hey, you mind if I stick around and watch the end of the game?”

  I hesitated. I was worried that if I didn’t push Chase out of there right at that moment then I might lack the will to do it later. I watched him as he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, causing the bedsprings to creak slightly. He looked very youthful and intent on the screen in front of him.

  “Fine,” I sighed. But I couldn’t stand being in this dress a minute longer. It made me feel like I was participating in some kind of comical masquerade. I just wanted to get back into my regular clothes. There was a commercial break between innings and I headed to the bathroom, grabbing my backpack off the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

  Chase nodded, his eyes on the television.

  Once I was behind the bathroom door I took a deep breath. Chase had officially rattled me. As I pulled the zipper of the dress down I kept imagining it was his hands instead of mine tugging the fabric down, cupping my breasts, feeling between my legs-

  STOP!!

  I felt shaky as I picked the dress up from where it had puddled on the tile. I hung it on a hook behind the door. As I leaned against the cool surface of the wall for a minute I caught sight of myself in the vanity mirror.

  I knew I wasn’t ugly. My body had never filled out enough to catch the interest of most men, but my face was all right. My hair was dark blonde, curly and long. It was the only feature I was even a little proud of, even though it was so unmanageable it drove me crazy half the time. But it was the exact same style I’d had since I was a little girl and I never did anything other than trim it. It was also exactly the same shade and texture as my mother’s hair. She had lost her hair shortly before she lost her life.

  With a sigh over the sad turn of my own thoughts I dug around in my backpack for a t-shirt. It had the Arizona State Sun Devils logo on the front and was a men’s large. It was huge on me. That was how I liked my shirts; billowy and shapeless. I pulled on a pair of raggedy elastic gym shorts and figured that would be the end of my appeal to Chase, who could probably pork a gaggle of supermodels if he felt like it.

  When I opened the door I was a little startled. That feeling quickly turned to suspicion. Chase was still sitting on the bed, in the same position I’d left him in. Only he’d dimmed the lights. And removed his shirt.

  “Top of the ninth,” he called, not looking over at me.

  I approached him with my hands on my hips. “What the hell are you up to now?”

  “Shush. Dodgers have the heart of the order coming up.”

  “And you can only enjoy baseball while shirtless?”

  He looked down at himself absently. “I was hot.” He finally glanced over at me. There was no hint of anything other than mild friendliness in his expression as he checked me out. “Sit down. Enjoy the end of the game.”

  He was playing with me. I knew it. I should order him the hell out of my room and slam the door. He could go mess with someone else’s head. There was one problem though.

  I didn’t want him to leave.

  Still, I couldn’t bring myself to sit on the bed with him. Chase clapped loudly when the first batter hit a fly ball to left field. I grabbed the armchair in the corner and tried to drag it over to where I could see the screen. It was heavy. Chase didn’t offer to help. Feeling ridiculous, I gave up. The bed was a king size so I could sit on it and still manage to remain a good three feet away from him. I gingerly rested on the edge.

  “Bet you ten bucks this guy strikes out,” he said, pointing.

  “That’s a crappy bet. The count is already oh and two.”

  He glanced at me curiously. “I heard you know about that shit.”

  “What shit?”

  “Betting. Games.”

  “Maybe,” I said darkly. For some reason Xavier’s cruel laugh came back to me.

  Chase turned to me, bringing his knee up on the bed. “Not asking for your trade secrets, but I’d listen if you want to discuss the particulars.” He smiled, reminding me how fucking hot he was, lest I could forget with his broad, tattooed chest staring me in the face. “I’ve got some cash I can part with for the opportunity to make more.”

  “Then you’re a fool,” I said flatly. “If there was any real opportunity for bettors then there wouldn’t be bookies. We’re the ones who make the cash, mostly off the backs of suckers who believe that a lucky win or two means they know what the hell they’re doing. They don’t. They’ll keep coming back, thinking they know how to beat the odds and before they know it they’re upside down.”

  Chase was watching me carefully. For the first time I saw a real sign of his often-hyped intelligence. It was in his eyes. They were sharp, like he was carefully appraising every word.

  “You know,” he finally said, “that’s the most you’ve ever said to me at once, Stephanie.” He jerked his head at the television, not taking his eyes from my face. “Told you he’d strike out.”

  “And I told you that was a shitty bet.”

  Chase reached into his pocket. I was puzzled when he pulled out a deck of cards.

  He casually began shuffling them. “You want to take a different bet?”

  “Do you just carry those things around with you all the time?” I frowned. “What kind of bet?”

  Somehow he’d managed to creep closer to me. He cut the deck in half and set the two stacks side by side. “Kind of like War. But we’ll each only pick one card. High card wins.”

  “What are the stakes?” I already knew. He didn’t want money. He only wanted one thing.

  “If I win, then you let me kiss you.”

  “Kiss me?” I was a little surprised, figuring the prize would be something disgusting, something involving genitalia. ‘Let me kiss you’ sounded so innocent. And Chase Gentry was the rank opposite of innocent.

  He smiled slowly, holding my gaze and melting my heart. “Yeah. I just want to kiss you.”

  I didn’t believe him for a minute. “And what do I get if I draw the high card?”

  “Same thing,” he answered.

  I found myself staring at his lips, wondering what they would feel like against mine. It had been a long time since I’d been kissed by anyone. Screw it; I could pretend I was like everyone else for a little while. I put my hand over one of the card stacks. “Count of three?”

  He nodded. “One. Two. Three.”

  I flipped my card over. It was the Queen of Hearts. Chase had the King of Spades.

  “I win,” he smiled.

  I swallowed. “I guess you do.”

  When his hand went to my shoulder I flinched. Then his other arm circled me, bringing me closer. I felt his grip move to my neck, twisting into my hair. He kissed me lightly at first. His lips grazed mine in a soft way that was nearly chaste. There was a sweet taste to his mouth, reminding me of the c
hampagne. He nibbled lightly and I heard a soft moan escape my throat as my mouth relaxed, letting him in.

  Chase changed tactics and started going harder, pulling me tightly against him and kissing with zealous urgency, as if he could sense that was exactly what I wanted him to do next. He was right.

  He eased me onto my back and I felt his full weight on top of me. I felt something else too. His huge erection pressed into me, trying to make demands. It was enough to make me panic somewhat.

  “Chase,” I gasped, pushing him away a little. “Wait, we shouldn’t do this.”

  He pulled back a few inches and raised an eyebrow. “We’re just making out, Stephanie. That’s all.”

  “That’s all,” I repeated. “Don’t try for more because I swear that’s all you’re getting.”

  “Noted,” he whispered and flicked his tongue past my lips.

  Something was happening to me as we kept kissing. I badly wanted things to keep moving. The vague throbbing between my legs had grown into a full-blown ache. But when I felt his hand trying to sneak under my shirt I stopped him, pushing his hand away and shaking my head. He seemed vaguely irritated but accepted it and returned to kissing.

  Tentatively, my arms went around his shoulders. Chase was all muscle. Hard, smooth muscle. He never stopped kissing me as he started doing something with his hands. A few seconds later, as I felt the whole length of his dick, I realized what it was. Chase had taken his pants off. He still had his boxers on, however there was nothing but flimsy cotton between us. It wasn’t enough to keep him from finding the most sensitive area on my body as he started pushing in a steady rhythm. I gasped when I felt the full hard force of what he wanted.

  “Chase,” I whispered, breaking away even as my legs began opening.

  He put his hands all over me, groaning. “Shit, just let me do this, Steph. Let me feel you.”

  I relented, giving in to the heady ecstasy of having him touch me everywhere. He felt too damn good and I couldn’t stop myself from responding. I was kissing him back with every bit as much passion as he was giving.