Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
WYLIE
Levi: Be dressed and ready by eight tonight. You’re my wingman tonight.
“That’s what he wrote to you?” Sandie asks as she stares down at Levi’s text message from this morning.
“Yes, what does that even mean?”
I’m perched on my bed, curlers in my hair, makeup done, and wearing nothing but a robe because I have no idea what to dress myself in as his wingman.
After Sandie got off work, she thankfully rushed over to my place, where I gave her the entire rundown of the past few days. We shared a large salad and some breadsticks from our favorite Italian restaurant, and I drank a hard seltzer or two to calm my nerves.
Sandie sets my phone down and says, “I think he’ll try to break you tonight. After what happened the other night, I have no doubt that this is the crescendo. Tonight’s the night that one of you is going to give in, and it looks like it will be in his favor.”
We’re both sitting on my bed, me against the headboard, Sandie against the wall, our legs tangling in the middle. I bring my legs into a crisscross position and make sure to cover myself up so Sandie doesn’t have to deal with a free show.
“So you think he’ll flaunt another woman in front of me?”
“Yes.” Sandie nods. “That’s exactly what he’s going to do. Think about what you did to him last time. You dry-humped him, then came loudly in the bathroom so he could hear you. He’s reached his breaking point, and it doesn’t seem like he wants to be the one who gives in.”
“Trust me, if he was the one who gave in, I’d know at this point what it would feel like to have him inside me. This is a battle of wills, and he has the upper hand, Sandie. I don’t think I can go through the night knowing that he might take someone else home.”
“Then make it so he can’t take someone else home. Make it so you’re the one he’s thinking about, not some random he finds at a bar.”
“Yeah, I think I can do that.” An idea pops into my head. “What if . . . what if I ask him to help me find someone?”
Sandie’s eyes light up. “Yes, reverse it back on him. Maybe make some sort of deal where you both help each other out and see who breaks first.”
“Yes, I can do that,” I say, feeling more empowered. “I’m sure he’ll hate if I flirt with someone else in front of him. Unless . . . what if he doesn’t? What if he lets me go off with another guy, and he’s with another girl?”
“He won’t.” Sandie shakes her head. “There is no way he’s going to let you go off with any guy. Trust me on this. Someone will break tonight, and it’s going to be him.”
I smile to myself. “You’re right, it’s going to be him.”
“That’s the spirit.” She pats my leg. “Now let’s get you dressed.” She hops off my bed and goes over to my clothes where she starts looking through my dresses. “I need you to look very indecent tonight. Like, nipple ready to pop out-type outfit.”
“Do you think that’s necessary?” I ask her.
She looks over her shoulder. “Uh, very necessary. Come on, let me try a few things on you.”
I walk over to Sandie, who starts piling outfits onto my waiting hands.
This should be interesting.
LEVI
I adjust my watch on my wrist and look at the time. She has one minute before I go barreling into her room to tell her that she’s late.
I’m all business tonight. I have one thing on my mind, and that’s breaking Wylie Wood. Like I said, this fucked-up game of wills ends tonight.
I chose to wear a pair of black jeans and a black button-up shirt, my typical club outfit.
I styled my hair to look messy but also put together, left my scruff untouched, rolled my sleeves up, and made sure to put on the cologne I know she likes.
I want to make it impossible for her to think of anyone but me.
That’s why I also left a few of my buttons undone so she has a peek of my chest throughout the night.
Now I just have to mentally prepare for what arsenal she’s coming with.
Lord knows she’s going to dress to kill.
I’m not fucking dumb. She’s an incredibly sexy and sexual woman, and she’ll dress provocatively— sensually— to make it impossible for me to look at any other woman.
Lucky for me, I’ve already texted Samantha at the club.
I told her what was going on, and she has no problem helping me out.
Samantha is a regular who I’ve played around with a bit.
She’s devastatingly gorgeous with long black hair, a killer body, and deep brown eyes.
Being naked in front of people doesn’t faze her, and she’s been up on the main stage quite a few times, getting off for everyone to see. She’s excited to play the part tonight.
So I have my bases covered.
Tonight, Wylie will break.
Just then, I hear heels clicking down the hallway, so I brace myself as Wylie appears in the kitchen. And yup . . . fuck . . . me. Jesus Christ, did she come to fucking play.
Her red hair is curled and voluminous, stretching past her shoulders and down her back.
She went with a dark eyeliner, making her eyes pop, and a deep red lip that matches the vibrant color of her hair.
And the outfit she chose, if you want to call it that, is a tight mini skirt that barely reaches her mid-thigh, and a single tube top that ties in the front and covers nothing but her breasts, and barely covers them if that.
Pretty sure it’s one of those bras she was talking about, but strapless.
Yup, she came to fucking play.
When she sees me, she pauses and wets her lips as she lets her eyes trail over me. “Ooo, boss man is looking to get fucked tonight, isn’t he?”
By you, yes.
“I am,” I say.
She walks up to me and pats me on the chest. “Don’t worry, I’m going to be the best wingman you’ve ever had.”
With that, she struts toward the front door, clutch in hand, ready to go.
Let the games begin.
WYLIE
“You’re quiet,” I say after about ten minutes of silence in the car. “Are you mentally preparing to pick someone up?”
“I don’t need to mentally prepare,” he says, his grip on the steering wheel tight.
“Okay, well, can you tell me what you expect from me as your wingman?”
“Talk me up, make me look good, make sure the girl trying to get with me is worth my time.”
I tug on my top, a habit I’ve acquired since the moment I put on this godforsaken bra that Sandie insisted I wear. It feels like it’s going to fall off any second. “I can do that no problem. Is there anyone in particular you’re looking for?”
He rubs the side of his jaw, the sound of his scruff bringing my attention to what it would feel like to have that scruff rubbing against my skin.
“Dark hair,” he says. “Only requirement.”
“Are you a boob man, ass man? Should I be looking for anything like that?”
“I like all bodies,” he says and glances in my direction.
My cheeks heat, and I inwardly swear to keep it together. It’s hard, though, when he looks like that and smells unbelievable. I swear his cologne was made to draw women toward him because even sitting in his car, I’m leaning toward him, wanting to get a better whiff.
He makes a right down a dark street, where he pulls up to a valet.
“Oh, I’ve never been here before,” I say. “This is a bar?”
“No,” he says as he glances at me. “A club.”
He gets out of the car, and all the color drains from my face.
A club? As in . . . one of his clubs?
Fuck.
Before I can even think about texting Sandie for mental support, my car door opens, and Levi is on the other side, holding his hand out to me.
I take it, and he helps me out of the car before letting go.
He heads down the path toward the nearly pitch-black entrance, but I stop him before we enter.
I tug on his hand, and when he turns to face me, I try not to show my nerves.
“Um, so is this one of those clubs you like to go to?”
“Yes,” he answers, his jaw tense.
“And you plan on meeting a girl here and . . . taking her to a back room or something?”
“Yes,” he answers again, making my stomach churn.
“Okay, and you want me to help you find that girl so that you can fuck in a back room?”
“Correct,” he says.
I nod and look at the ground for a moment, clutching my purse as I try to find a way to deal with this.
If this was a bar, that would be easier.
I could pass some time and try to find the right person, but this is different.
I’ve been to these clubs before—not this one in particular—but there is no fucking around.
You find someone you like, you fuck, simple as that.
No need to warm up, no need for small talk.
Which means the stakes are higher here. I have a lot less time.
“Okay, I can help with that, but you know, since we’re here,” I say, looking him in the eyes. “If I happen to see someone I might be compatible with, I hope you don’t mind if I go off with them as well.”
“If you’re up for it, go for it,” he says and heads toward the door.
Wait . . .
What?
If I’m up for it, go for it?
No tic of the jaw.
No anger in his expression.
No jealousy?
I would have at least thought that he’d show a hint of emotion over that, but I get nothing at all.
“Are you coming?” he asks from where he stands next to the entrance.
“Yes,” I say, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of my head.
This is a game. He’s playing the game.
Right?
That’s what’s happening.
That’s what’s happening. But he’s a man, Wylie.
He’s a virile, sex-loving, sexy man, who made you come after only dry-humping him.
He’s told me that it’s me he wants, but he’s also told me that we can’t cross that line.
But he touched me like he owned me the other night. .. and then didn’t take me.
“ Dark hair ,” he says. “ Only requirement .”
Dark hair . . .
He opens the door for me, and I walk in before him only to stop at another door, the beat of the music on the other side making me nervous.