The Games We Play Vol. 2 (Riley Grayson) (6 page)

Riley grabbed Marissa’s hand and dragged her out of the bar. “Wait!” She tugged back. “First we have to dance. I love this song!”

Riley rolled his eyes and agreed. He’d have to prove he was trustworthy first.

After an hour of dancing and small talk, Riley gave a quick nod to Jackson who held up his beer bottle in salute and smiled. Riley had kind of hoped Jackson would’ve hooked up with one of Marissa’s friends so that the four of them could’ve gone back to Jackson’s place—which was currently empty. Instead, Jackson was busy with a whole new set of girls.

***

An hour later, Riley was buried balls deep in Marissa, pounding the shit out of her, trying desperately to fuck the image of Ali from his mind. It wasn’t working, and for the life of him he couldn’t reach orgasm. No matter how hard he thrust into her, how tightly she squeezed around him, how good it felt when she squeezed his ass cheeks, he just couldn’t come. Well, this was fucking great. He thought for sure their similar looks would have made it easy.

“Oh, God, Riley, yes!” Marissa screamed, demanding more from him as she grew close to coming.

He frowned and grunted. Closing his eyes, he imagined it was Ali beneath him. Her long, brown hair draped across his pillow. Her soft, sweet body taking him. Her melodic moans ringing through his ears.

God, how he tried to imagine it was her. And it was starting to work. He could feel his balls getting tight and his cock swelling.

But then his cell phone rang, jerking him out of the moment. “What the fuck!” He stopped moving inside of Marissa and reached for his phone.

“Seriously? You’re going to answer your phone
now?
” Marissa shrieked, smacking her palms on his chest.

“Might be important,” he mumbled. The truth was, he was still hoping Ali might call him since he hadn’t been able to call her. He glanced at the screen. It was a local number, but not one he recognized. Pulling out of Marissa, he swiped his finger across the screen. “Yeah?”

“Riley?”

The sound of her voice was like a cattle prod to his genitals. It was so much softer and sweeter than he’d remembered. “Yeah, gimme a sec.” He put the call on mute and looked down at Marissa. He was done with her. There was no way he’d be able to continue after this phone call. “I’ve gotta take this,” he said, climbing off the bed and leaving the room. He went to the bathroom and locked the door, completely ignoring Marissa’s annoyed look.

He un-muted the phone. “Sorry about that.” He took the condom off and threw it in the trash.

“Oh, that’s okay. If I caught you at a bad time, I can call—”

“No,” he said much too quickly, “it’s fine. I was, uh, just getting out of the shower is all.” He grabbed a clean towel from the shelf and wrapped it around his waist, trying to catch his breath.

“Okay then.” There was a moment of awkward silence before she said, “I thought you were going to call.”

He laughed. A genuine, happy laugh. Not a sarcastic one.
If she only knew.
“That’s kind of hard to do when you give me the wrong number.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You most certainly did.” He read off the number she’d saved into his phone and then compared it to the number she’d just called from. She’d entered a five instead of an eight.

“Oh my gosh!” She laughed and then it became muffled. He could just see her putting her hand over her mouth to stifle herself. He momentarily closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. What he wouldn’t give to taste her lips right now. He couldn’t believe he thought she gave him a wrong number on purpose. “I am so sorry, Riley. I must’ve hit the wrong number. I swear it wasn’t intentional.”

He sighed and realized he was grinning like a damned idiot. He tried to stop himself but he couldn’t. So she hadn’t intentionally given him the wrong number. It was an honest mistake. He was much more relieved about that than he wanted to be but felt a bit guilty for jumping to conclusions so quickly. And thank fucking God she was the type of girl to call a guy—if for no other reason than to give him shit about not calling. His smile grew even bigger.

“No worries. We’re cool,” he said calmly even though his heart took off like a runaway freight train. He sat on the edge of the tub. “So, what’s up?”

“Not much. I was thinking maybe we could get together again sometime.”

And there it was. The one thing he’d been waiting for since he’d met her. The woman who talked so deeply about his painting had called and she wanted to see him again. It was tempting to give her an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah!” but he didn’t want to seem too eager. He had to play it cool. Like he always did. Make her think it was no big deal.

“Work is keeping me real busy right now, and I’m apartment hunting with Jackson.” That last part was a total lie but he wanted her to think he was a hot commodity, that his time was valuable, which wasn’t untrue. His time really was valuable. Yet, once the words were out of his mouth he felt crappy. He realized he didn’t like lying to this girl.

“Yeah, okay, I understand. Well, now that you have my real number, give me a call sometime when you’re free,” she said. Her voice had lowered, lost that bubbliness it’d had only a second before. His own mood dropped in response.

“Sure.” What the fuck was wrong with him? He wanted this girl and she was offering herself up. Why the hell wasn’t he jumping on this opportunity?

Because she scared the living hell out of him. She made him feel things he didn’t want to feel—feelings Riley could only explain as those of genuine love. She made him want to be someone he wasn’t—a good, honest man. She wanted to change him but nobody changed Riley Grayson but Riley Grayson.

“All right then. Have a good night.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Ali. Wait.”

“Yeah?” A tinge of hope laced her voice and it made him smile.

“How about next Saturday night?” That was a full week away, which would give him enough time to get his act together and not totally fall apart by the mere thought of this girl. “We’ll go out for dinner. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up around seven.”

“Okay.” Her voice had picked up again, full of excitement.

Riley smiled again. “I’m really glad you called, Ali.”
Shit. Why did I have to go and say that?
He didn’t want to give her the impression he’d been waiting for her to call, even though that was exactly what he’d been doing. Only chumps said shit like that and those same chumps never get laid.

“Me too,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes against the sensation her whisper sent through his body. It was the same feeling he’d had the first time he kissed her. A shiver that rocked his core, made his knees weak, an unexplainable thought that she might be the one. Maybe he should ask to see her tonight. Right now. Why wait a full week? He wasn’t usually a glutton for punishment, but that was what he was setting himself up for.

No. He needed more distance, more time to make sure he wasn’t going to do or say anything stupid around her. Plus, he needed to finish this current painting and get the rest of his payment before he could afford to take her out like he wanted.

He wanted to really impress her. Wine her. Dine her. Spoil her. Show her that he could take care of her outside of the bedroom too. Then he was going to spend the rest of the night exploring her body. Fucking her. Hell, he might even splurge on a hotel room just so they wouldn’t get any interruptions. A nice hotel room. Those were sexy.

“All right. Then I’ll see you Saturday,” she said. “And now that you have my number, don’t be afraid to use it.”

He chuckled. He thought maybe she was telling him to call her this week, sometime before their date. “You keep using mine, too.” When was the last time he ever encouraged a girl to call him like this? He honestly didn’t know. Jessica, maybe? That was back in high school. It seemed as of lately, he would do anything in his power to not get a girl he had just slept with to call him. “Good night, Ali.”

“Good night, Riley.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

Reluctantly, he ended the call. He was more of a text message kind of guy but he had a feeling he could spend a decent amount of time on the phone with her and not think twice about it. That was another difference that separated Ali away from the rest of the herd. He actually liked talking to her.

Standing, he unlocked the door and left the bathroom. He went to the kitchen for a drink and a snack when he remembered.

“Oh shit!”

Marissa was still in his bed. Naked. He quickly made his way back to his room, intent on telling her to leave. After hearing Ali’s voice, talking to her, he was in no mood to be with Marissa any longer. He opened his bedroom door and was shocked to see the room empty. He looked around, even checked the closet. Empty.

“What the hell?”

He let out a short laugh of disbelief. Marissa was gone. She must’ve snuck out while he was on the phone. He wasn’t gone more than five minutes. Well, this was a first for him. He was usually the one kicking women out of his bed. He’d never had one leave on her own before. Maybe she was worth pursuing . . . nah, who was he kidding. She didn’t even know that he was an artist. She never bothered to ask. It was all about her, her, her. He shrugged and climbed into bed, tucking his hands behind his head. Made his night that much easier. He yawned and closed his eyes. Letting sleep overcome him.

Ali was in such a better mood since talking to Riley. She’d been so worried he wouldn’t want to see her or talk to her, because in her mind, that was the only reason he wouldn’t have called. But then she found out it had been her fault for entering her phone number incorrectly. She’d almost cried with relief. And she’d made poor Hilary sit through almost an hour of Riley talk.

But Ali didn’t care. She was floating on cloud nine right now. She had a date with him. A week away. She frowned. It sucked having to wait that long, but at least she knew she’d be seeing him again. That was enough to keep her sane for the time being. The thought of not seeing him was, well, she didn’t even want to go back there again.

She pulled into her parents’ driveway and got out of her car. The new semester would be starting soon and tuition was due. Her father had left her a message letting her know there was a check waiting for her. She had to pick it up and take it to the business office at school. Why he wouldn’t just mail it was beyond her, but he had this crazy fear that the check would get lost in the mail and then she wouldn’t be able to attend classes.

“Hand it to them in person and get a receipt,” his message had said. So she’d spend at least two hours in the car fighting traffic between her apartment, school and her parents’ house. Just so her dad could be hand delivered a receipt.

It was kind of a pain in the butt but it gave her something to do today other than sit around her apartment and think about Riley. Of course, she’d probably just think about him while driving. God, she couldn’t wait to see him again, to kiss him, to have his hands on her body—assuming of course, that he would want to do that again.

“Mom, it’s just me,” Ali called as she entered the house. Sure enough, there on the foyer table was an envelope with her name scrawled across the front of it. She grabbed it and tucked it into her purse. Then she walked further into the house, wanting to say hi to her mom, but she didn’t appear to be home. It was odd that her mom wouldn’t be home in the middle of the day during the week. She was probably out shopping or something.

Ali grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a package of cookies from the cupboard and left, being sure to lock the door behind her when she did. Her father was adamant about keeping the door locked at all times, even when they were in the house. Ali never fully understood it, but it had carried over to her apartment. She was constantly locking the door. It drove Hilary nuts.

Getting back in her car, she cranked up the radio and backed out onto the road. That was when she noticed the light on her cell phone blinking. She had an alert. She picked it up, brought the screen to life, and saw it was a text message.

From Riley!

She let out a squeal of excitement. Honestly, she hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. Hilary had insisted this would be some sort of game where he would pull away and wait a few days, and that Ali should do the same. Well, take that Hilary! Ali read the message.

Hey there sexy
.

Ali grinned broadly.
Sexy
. The message was so simple and probably didn’t mean a damn thing, but to her it meant everything. She couldn’t even recall Pat ever calling her sexy. She never felt sexy. Hilary, she was sexy. Not Ali. She was tempted to text him back and tease him, tell him he was the sexy one. But that would probably scare him off. Instead, she typed back a lame:
Hey there yourself
.

She rolled her eyes.
I’m so lame at flirting
. But in her defense, she hadn’t needed to flirt because she’d been with Pat for so long. Clearly she’d lost all of her skills in that time, and with all of these things Hilary was saying she had to do, the game had clearly changed.

Well, it wasn’t like she had to convince Riley to sleep with her. He’d already done that. But, God, would he do it again? How she hoped the next time would be just the two of them. Not that she didn’t have fun with the other girl involved, but she wanted all of Riley’s attention next time. The threesome was a good experience, but never again. That wasn’t the way she saw her romantic life ending up. She wanted a relationship like what her parents had; caring, loving, a true partnership. They were the couple she looked up to when seeing how she wanted her future to be.