Текст книги "All or Nothing "
Автор книги: C. C. Wood
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All or Nothing
Wicked Games, #1
by
C.C. Wood
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Copyright Crystal W. Wilson 2015
Kindle Edition
Cover by
Jena Brignola, Bibliophile Productions
Editing by
Libros Evolution
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Mi Cocina, Starbucks
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Part One: The First Move
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part Two: Dirty Trick
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Part Three: The End Game
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Contact C.C.
About C.C.
Titles by C.C. Wood
Part One
The First Move
Chapter One
Three Years Ago
‡
Girls Night Out was my favorite night of the week. Ashley, Katie, and I had a standing date every Thursday night at a local bar. We’d indulge in $4 margaritas then call for an Uber ride home before the bar turned into an overcrowded meat market.
Tonight began no differently than any of the others, but the end of the evening would change the course of my life.
We’d been in the bar for a little over an hour when Katie began glancing over my shoulder. Then she prodded Ashley with her elbow and they both stared at something behind me.
“What are you two looking at?” I asked, turning to take a look at whatever had captured their attention.
They grabbed at my arm. “No, no, don’t look,” Katie exclaimed.
“What’s going on?” I asked, already tipsy from two exceptionally strong cocktails.
Ashley leaned forward. “There’s a guy at the bar and he’s staring at you. And I mean, staring. He’s also hot. Like, really, really hot.”
My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”
Katie nodded. “Oh yeah.” Then she shook her head at me. “Girl, if I didn’t love you so much, we’d have a bitch smack down for that tall drink of water. Seriously.”
I couldn’t prevent the laugh from escaping me. “As if you’d win,” I scoffed.
She shrugged. “I may not win, but you’d feel me tomorrow.”
I giggled harder. “Well, maybe he isn’t staring at me. Maybe he’s staring at one of you.”
“Oh, no, Jena. He’s staring at you,” Ashley insisted.
“Are you sure?”
Men might take one look at me, but few approached. I knew I wasn’t ugly, but I also wasn’t anything special. My dad always described me as striking. I figured that was a nice way of saying I wasn’t a supermodel, but I also wasn’t hard to look at. My long brown hair was wavy and thick and I always liked my dark brown eyes. I did my best to keep my naturally curvy figure in shape. I worked out a few times a week and watched my diet most of the time.
“Oh yeah,” Ashley drawled. “Don’t turn around either, because he’s headed this way.”
My eyes bugged out. “What?”
“Oh, that man has some balls,” Katie murmured. “He’s approaching you with both of us sitting here.” Her eyes flicked to me. “I mean it, Jena. If you don’t want this one, I’m taking him. Any man with that kind of gumption is the man for me. At least for tonight, anyway.”
I laughed at her words, still doing so when the man in question stepped up to our table. I looked over and then up, and up. He was tall, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, and packed with lean muscle. When my eyes hit his face, I swallowed a gasp.
My friends weren’t exaggerating when they said he was gorgeous. He was. Totally. Utterly. Golden blond hair, honey brown eyes, and bronzed skin. He looked as if he’d been gilded. A golden boy.
He grinned down at me, a small dimple adding an irresistible charm to his gorgeous face. “Hey, my name’s Justin.”
I blinked up at him, my mind completely blanked by his male beauty. One of the girls kicked my ankle lightly, bringing me out of my hot guy stupor. “Hey. I’m Jena,” I answered, holding out a hand.
Justin took my palm in his, squeezing gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Jena,” he said softly.
I smiled up at him, entranced by the sound of his voice. The timbre was as honeyed as his hair, smooth, sweet, and Oh-so-Southern. Very sexy.
Still holding my hand, he inched closer. “Beautiful Jena, can I buy you a drink?”
When he said it like that, in that deep drawl, I believed him absolutely when he said I was beautiful. I liked hearing it when he said it.
I didn’t realize that I was staring up at him, not speaking, until one of the girls kicked me again.
Jumping, I answered, “I’d like that.” Belatedly, I realized I was being rude by not introducing my friends. “These are my friends, Katie and Ashley.”
Justin looked over at them, still smiling and holding my hand. “Ladies,” he said with a nod.
They murmured a greeting back, but didn’t say much else.
He studied us for a moment. “I’ll tell you what, how about I buy you all a round?”
This offer was immediately and enthusiastically accepted. Ashley even grabbed a chair and pulled it up to our table.
The next hour flew by. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had such a great conversation with a guy. Justin and I chatted, but he made an effort to include Ashley and Katie. The conversation flowed easily and he was funny. Really funny. I laughed a lot and so did my girlfriends.
The closer it got to eight o’clock, the more reluctant I was to leave, but we rarely stayed past happy hour because the bar tended to get rowdy as the night went on. Also the $4 margaritas became $8 margaritas and I had no interest in paying that tab because the girls and I could drink when we put our minds to it.
Eventually, Ashley noticed the time and suggested we should pay our bill and arrange for our ride home. Justin nodded as if he understood, then got up from the table.
“I’ll be right back, ladies.”
The three of us watched him walk to the bar, all loose-hipped grace and latent strength. I turned back to my girlfriends.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Am I imagining it or is he into me?”
Ashley shook her head as though she thought I was hopeless. “Girl, he is way into you. Are you seriously that blind?”
I shrugged. “Well, hell, I don’t know. I’ve had five margaritas. Or was it six? I don’t know.”
Katie giggled and leaned over the table toward me. “You should let him take you home,” she whispered loudly. Although her drunken whisper was more like a yell.
“Jesus, Katie, I may be tipsy, but I’m not reckless or stupid. I don’t even know him.”
Ashley nodded, shoving Katie’s shoulder. “She’s right. No sleeping with guys you just met.” Then she looked at me. “Now, after he’s taken you out to a nice dinner, then you can take him home and boink his brains out.”
I rolled my eyes. “Y’all need a refresher in single women’s safety,” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.
“Girl, you need to see if that bulge in his pants is real or not,” Katie retorted. “The sooner the better. It has been a while for you, remember?”
Her outrageous statement made me choke on my margarita. Coughing, I leaned over, trying to suck in some air past all the liquor that was suddenly clogging up my windpipe.
“Jesus, Katie,” I snapped. “Are you trying to kill me?”
She smirked. “I’m just saying you should take advantage of that while you can. You need to get laid, it’ll relax you.”
I shook my head at her. “Not everyone finds one night stands and fuck buddies relaxing, Katie.”
She laughed. “Hey, I’m only twenty-six, I intend to live it up until my biological clock starts ticking so loudly that I can’t ignore it.”
We all laughed. Katie liked to pretend she was worldly and sexually adventurous, but her last dry spell was almost as long as mine.
“I’m not going there tonight, Katie,” I stated firmly. Then I looked at Ashley. “And I’m not going there on the first date either, Ash.”
I drained the last of my drink, shooting a look over my shoulder to see Justin sauntering back toward us.
I faced my friends. “However, I might consider it after the third date.”
We all burst into laughter, and were still guffawing when Justin sat back down at the table.
“What’s so funny?” he asked genially.
“N-n-nothing,” I stuttered, gasping for breath.
As we all started to calm down, Ashley said, “We should pay the tab. Our ride will be here in about five minutes.”
Justin shook his head. “No need. It’s taken care of.”
As one, the three of us gaped at him.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I took care of it.”
Normally, I would have found this type of behavior charming in a man that I was dating, but I didn’t know Justin and it was presumptuous, which annoyed me. I was gearing up to say something, when Ashley gave me wide eyes and shook her head slightly.
With a single look, she basically told me to shut the hell up and accept his generosity with a smile.
“Thanks, Justin.”
He grinned at me when I thanked him, and the irritation in my belly died. He looked so genuinely happy that he did something nice that I couldn’t be upset.
Facing Ashley and Katie, he asked, “Do y’all mind if I borrow Jena for a minute?”
“Take her!” Katie squealed.
I barely managed to control the roll of my eyes. Jesus, she was a cheap drunk.
Chuckling, Justin helped me out of my chair, grabbed my hand, and led me toward the hall at the back of the bar. The hallway split, one side going toward the restrooms, the other corridor leading to a door marked ‘Employees Only’.
He pulled me down the hall that led to the employee door. When we reached the end, I noticed a small alcove on the left, about three feet deep, and another door. Justin guided me into the alcove, maneuvering me until my back was against the wall and he was leaning over me.
“I wanna see you again,” he whispered.
Standing this close to him, I could smell his cologne and it made my head spin. He smelled amazing, like citrus and herbs. It reminded me of sunshine.
“Okay,” I answered.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Then you need to give me your phone number so I can call you.”
“Okay.”
His smile widened and he reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. I watched as he fiddled with the touch screen.
“All right, what’s the number?”
I gave him my cell number, repeating it twice to be sure he got it. However, I didn’t ask for his. I knew if I had his number, I wouldn’t have the discipline to wait until he called me. I understood that some men really didn’t like a woman to make the first move, but, in his case, I didn’t think I’d be able to resist.
I was the type of person that saw something I wanted and went after it. While I wouldn’t call more than once or twice, I wouldn’t hesitate to contact a man before he called me.
This aggressiveness probably had a lot to do with why I didn’t date much. A lot of men, especially Southern men, were turned off by women who horned in on the chase. They wanted to make all the moves and couldn’t deal with a woman who expressed honest interest and acted upon it.
I decided to try something different with Justin and see where things went.
After he entered my number into his phone, he tucked it into his back pocket. Then he leaned in closer, close enough that all I could see were his golden brown eyes.
“Okay, this may be too forward, but I’m gonna kiss you, Jena,” he murmured.
My eyes widened. It was forward. Still, I liked it and I liked him, so I didn’t say anything. I wanted him to kiss me.
Slowly, he leaned forward, his lips gently touching mine. He didn’t try to shove his tongue down my throat or put his hands all over me. Instead, he nibbled at my mouth, his lips tugging at mine. His tongue touched my bottom lip, sweeping across it lightly.
My hands lifted and clutched his biceps, clinging to him for balance. Gradually, Justin lifted his head, his eyes on mine. My head fell back against the wall as I stared up at him.
For a split second, I thought I saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly I decided it must be a trick of the dim light in the hall.
“Your ride should be here by now,” he said, his hand lifting to touch my cheek.
“Yeah,” I breathed, still a little dizzy.
Justin took my hand and walked me down the hall. When we returned to the table, Ashley and Katie were staring at us, both of them grinning like idiots. Obviously they knew what we had been doing.
As we said our good-byes and I picked up my purse, Justin stood next to me, his hands tucked in his pockets. My girlfriends moved away, heading toward the door, and he grabbed my arm.
“I’ll call you soon,” he stated softly.
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
Going on impulse, I rose up on my toes and kissed his cheek lightly before I walked away. As I was about to step outside, I glanced over my shoulder, but Justin was gone.
Chapter Two
Two years and six months ago
‡
“Be right back, baby. You want another?”
I smiled up at Justin. “Please.”
He kissed my forehead and walked toward the bar across the room. I watched him go, enjoying the way he moved through the crowd, smooth and easy. In the last six months, I’d learned that he had that same athletic grace both in and out of bed, and he used it to his benefit. And mine.
When Justin was out of sight, I turned my eyes back to him. King Sloan.
Holding a squat glass in one fist, he watched me with hooded black eyes. Everything about him was dark; black eyes, black hair, and even the clothes he wore.
He was Justin’s best friend. Hell, my man told me he considered him like a brother when he introduced us.
I didn’t like King. One reason was the fact that I’d never heard of him before tonight. If he and Justin were so close, why was I only finding out about him now? Justin and I had been damn near inseparable for the past six months. He met my friends and most of my family, yet King’s name hadn’t come up once.
The other reason, a very large reason, was his wandering eyes. Currently he was eyefucking my chest, something he’d been doing covertly all night.
I didn’t like it and I’d had enough.
I snapped my fingers in front of his face, and his gaze drifted up from my chest to meet mine.
Crossing my arms over my breasts, mostly for protection, I leaned forward and hissed, “Stop it. Now.”
“Stop what, darlin’?” he drawled.
“Staring at me like that.”
He leaned forward too, putting our faces a few inches apart. Though I didn’t know him well, I recognized his type. Retreat wasn’t an option if I wanted him to show me an ounce of respect. If I backed down, King would run roughshod all over me.
So, I held my ground and spoke bluntly. “Keep your leering eyes off my body,” I growled. “I’m your best friend’s woman and, I gotta tell ya, you’re not much of a friend if you’re gonna stare at my chest like that.”
King’s black eyes hardened and his face took on an expression that scared the pants off me, but I clenched my teeth to prevent myself from giving that away.
Unflinchingly, I met his stare, even though his anger felt like a thousand pissed off bees stinging my skin. It burned, but I’d be damned if I reacted.
My bluff worked because the terrifying expression vanished from his face and he relaxed back into his chair, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth.
“Now, I really wanna fuck you,” he rumbled, tossing back the rest of his whiskey.
My scalp burned as though my hair had caught fire from the force of my fury.
“WHAT?!”
“All that hair, those tits, and you’re a ball buster. It’s sexy as hell and I like it.”
My muscles went rigid with rage. He was fucking lucky my drink was empty or he would have gotten a face full of margarita. While I was controlling the urge to leap across the table and claw at his cheek with my nails, I wondered if any of the self-defense moves my cousin Tia taught me would be good for breaking his nose.
Instead, I decided I was done. Justin’s friend or not, no man spoke to me like that.
I stood up, kicking my chair back so hard it fell over with a bang. “It was really not nice meeting you, King,” I spat. “Let’s not do this again!”
Snatching up my purse, I didn’t even notice that every eye in the bar was on me or that the crowd parted before me as I moved through it.
Preoccupied with my furious retreat, I nearly ran head first into Justin on my way out.
“Jena, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked after taking one look at my face.
“I’m leaving,” I snapped, marching past him, pissed off at him and King and pretty much everyone on the planet.
Justin dumped the drinks on a nearby table and followed me out.
“What happened?” he asked, falling into step beside me.
“Why in the hell do you call him King? Raging asshole is a better fit!”
Justin released a bark of laughter and I stopped, whirling on him. “It’s not funny, Jay! He said he wanted to fuck me!” I shouted.
The smile disappeared from Justin’s face. “What?” Then he shook his head. “Jesus, he hasn’t changed,” he muttered.
“What does that mean?”
Justin grabbed my arms. “He was fuckin’ with ya, baby. Playing mind games. He didn’t mean it.”
“What?” I yelled, even angrier.
“King’s like that. He’s seen too many women kissing my face while their hands reached into my wallet. He pulls this shit as a test.”
“A test?” My voice was laced with disbelief, and my chest heaved.
“Yeah,” he answered, nodding. “He thinks of it as protecting me.”
That explanation calmed me down somewhat. But only a little. Justin had family money and a decent sized trust fund. I wouldn’t have cared one way or the other how much money he had. All I cared about was the way he treated me.
The way King went about it was messed up, but I was glad his friend looked out for him.
“Seriously?” I asked, my arms crossed.
Justin nodded. “King has a fucked up way of doing things, but it’s for the right reasons.”
I sighed because it made a convoluted sort of sense. “I’m still pissed, Jay,” I warned him.
“I’ll go tell him we’re leaving. You can wait in the car if you want. Maybe we can do this again after he apologizes…”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to get the hell out of here, not stand in the parking lot arguing about a complete douchebag that Justin considered his friend.
He handed me the keys. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he could take a step away, I grabbed his arm. Even though I was furious with King, there was something I was curious about.
When Justin introduced him, he’d shaken my hand, also holding it way too long, and said, “Just call me King.”
“Is King his real name?” I asked Justin.
“No.”
Although I wanted to know what his real name was, I knew now wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, I queried, “Why do you call him that?”
Luckily, Justin answered my unspoken question when he answered the one I said aloud. “His real name is Alaric.” He chuckled at my wince. “Yeah, it’s a shitty name. His mom chose it because it means king and she thought it was classy, so….”
“Got it,” I muttered. No wonder King was a dick. He probably faced teasing and bullies every day at school growing up.
“Go get in the car. I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for me to get to the car safely, something that often bothered me when it came to Justin, he turned and went back inside the bar.
Quickly, I made my way to his Camaro and locked myself inside. As I sat waiting for him, I couldn’t stop thinking about King and the things he said to me.
I hoped I never saw the bastard again.
Chapter Three
Two years and five months ago
‡
I stared at the casket as it gradually disappeared into the ground. The wind was icy and biting as it hit my face and body, cutting through my coat and dress as though they were nothing.
I had no tears left. None.
The man I loved, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with was dead. At twenty-eight, I felt like my world was ending.
He had been murdered. Carjacking gone wrong, the cops said. Justin wasn’t the type of man to just give someone his car, he would have put up a fight. So, they shot him in the face.
I didn’t like the idea of viewing the body of a deceased person, but I would have at least liked a chance to see him, hold him, and kiss him one last time before they put him in the ground.
“Hey.”
That single word broke through the haze of grief that clouded my mind. I tore my eyes away from the casket descending into the earth and looked up.
King was standing next to me, again in all black, but instead of jeans and a tee, he was wearing slacks, a button down shirt, and a leather jacket.
“Hey,” I whispered, turning back to the open grave, shutting him out. The whirring of the machine died and I knew that the casket had reached the bottom, the place where Justin would rest for eternity.
I stood there, unseeing and unmoving, until King cupped my elbow in his hand.
“Jena, it’s time to leave.”
Listlessly, I allowed him to pull me away from the yawning hole in the earth. Inanely, I thought that it matched the one I felt in my heart. It wasn’t until I was in the passenger seat of his truck that I realized what was happening.
“Wait, I rode with Ashley.”
“I sent her home.”
That cut through the fog. “What?”
“Babe, she’s a good friend, but she wasn’t gettin’ through to you.”
“What?” I ask again, feeling the haze lifting even more.
“You were standing there at the funeral home and then at the cemetery like a zombie. Have you even eaten today? Or slept in the last week?”
I turned my face toward the window, not answering his questions, because I hadn’t done either of those things. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate and I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours at a time since the night King called me to tell me that Justin was gone.
“I’m takin’ you home and you’re gonna eat, take a couple shots of tequila, and get some sleep.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue with him as I normally would. “Whatever.”
It wasn’t until he drove passed the street that would have taken us back to my apartment that I spoke again. “You missed the turn.”
His eyes shifted to me, but he didn’t respond.
My own eyes narrowed. “King, where are we going?”
Again, he didn’t answer.
“King!”
“I’m takin’ you to my place.”
Oh hell no he wasn’t. I sucked in a deep breath so I wouldn’t shriek at the top of my lungs. “Take. Me. Home.”
“Jena,” he said, his tone warning.
“I mean it, King. You take me to your house, I’ll walk home, I don’t care if I have to do it barefoot over broken glass.”
He must have heard the honesty in my voice because he muttered, “Fuck.” Then he found a place to make a U-turn.
“Do you even have any food in your house?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
He grunted. After passing a few other restaurants, he pulled into the parking lot of a fast food joint. I didn’t say a word as he went through the drive thru and ordered for me without even asking what I wanted.
Surprisingly, he got my favorite.
Ten minutes later, he turned into my apartment complex, parked next to my car, and helped me out of the truck. I didn’t argue as he followed me up to my second floor apartment and took the keys from my hand to open the door.
I followed him inside and watched as he carried the food into my little kitchen. Sighing, I dropped my bag on the table by the entryway.
Ignoring the way King was making himself at home, I trudged to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and kicked off my shoes. I stripped off my thigh high hose, unzipped my dress and dropped them both on the floor. A pair of flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt were lying across the foot of the bed, so I yanked them on before adding a pair of thick, woolly socks. After spending close to an hour at the graveside in the bitter January wind, I was chilled to the bone.
Closing my eyes, I rubbed my hands over my arms. It wasn’t just the weather that made me cold. It was the empty bed I slept in, the lonely nights, that had leeched the warmth from my body and my soul.
I jumped at the knock on my door. “Just a sec,” I called.
Quickly, I pulled my hair back into a messy knot on top of my head and opened the door. King stood there, with his shirt untucked and his arms crossed over his chest.
He looked me over from top to toe and his mouth got tight at the corners. “Come eat.”
Once again I didn’t argue and did as he said. The quicker we got this over with, the quicker I’d be rid of him. Hopefully forever.
We ate in my living room in complete silence. King didn’t even turn on the television. I finished about half of my cheeseburger and that was it, but he didn’t say anything.
Silently, he took my plate and disappeared into my kitchen. I heard him moving around in there, opening and closing cabinets, searching for something. I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, wondering how much more I could take.
The clink of glass brought my head up. King sat next to me on the couch, two shot glasses and a bottle of Milagro in his hands. I realized he wasn’t joking about drinking after lunch.
He plunked both glasses on the table, topped them off with the clear liquor, and handed one to me. “To Justin.”
I lifted my glass slightly in a toast then tossed it back. As soon as I was done, King took the glass from me, refilled it, and handed it back. We did this three more times before he whisked up the glasses and bottle and carried them into the kitchen.
I realized I needed to pee, so I stood up and staggered slightly. The booze was hitting me hard since I’d barely eaten anything in days.
“Shit, Jena, let me help you,” King commanded as he came back into the living room.
I held out a hand to stop him. “I got it, I got it,” I mumbled.
Though I was clumsy, I made it past him and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, when I came out, King was standing at the end of the hall.
“It’s time to sleep, Jena,” he murmured.
Pretending he wasn’t there, I plodded toward my bedroom, weaving slightly, and collapsed on my bed. I lay there, quietly, staring at the wall and waiting for him to leave so I could get up.
“Fuck,” King whispered.
Once again, I ignored him. I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. Having him in the privacy of my home, seeing me like this, only made things worse.
The bed dipped behind me. I heard one shoe hit the floor, then another, and turned over.
“King-” I began.
“Shhh, Jena. You need rest and you’re not gonna get it starin’ at the wall like that.”
I quickly turned away from him when he unbuttoned and pulled his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the black tank beneath it. My entire body was taut as he rolled into me.
Then I went completely rigid. “No, King-” I started again.
“Shut up and go to sleep, Jena,” he demanded, curving around me, his chest to my back, hips cupping mine, and his legs bending so that his knees tucked behind my own. His face was so close to my neck that I could feel his breath on my skin.
His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me close to him, and I lost all will to argue. It felt so good to be held that I no longer gave a damn who was doing it. I just needed the comfort. Between the warmth of his body surrounding me, my exhaustion, and the tequila, I was asleep within seconds.
