Shutout: Rules of the Game Book 2

SERAPHINA

I’ve been tasked with an impossible assignment tonight. We’re going out with everyone for Tyler’s birthday, and we have to act like nothing is going on between us. No flirting, no obvious glances, and no touching.

Naturally, we decide to start off the evening with a quickie. Sneaking in a tryst is risky in and of itself but should help cut down on the tension between us all evening. Or at least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

While Chase and Dallas are preoccupied playing video games upstairs, I sneak into the basement to see Tyler like we agreed. With the way those two are glued to the screen, a bomb could go off and they wouldn’t notice. The volume is up so high the walls practically shake with each explosion on screen. Bailey and Siobhan haven’t arrived yet, so as long as we make this fast, we should be okay.

“Is this skirt too short?” I do a slow twirl in the middle of Tyler’s room, reveling in the way his gaze hungrily trails down my body, lingering on my legs. I’ve already gotten ready to go out, but I’ll have to touch up once we’re through. He likes to pull my hair, and it shows.

His mouth tips up at one corner. “No. You look hot.”

“Are you sure?” I smooth my hands down the black chiffon. I’m half teasing, half legitimately asking. It’s on the short side even for me, but I couldn’t tell that when I ordered it online because I have no concept of inches in terms of measurements. It’s cute, though, so I’d like to keep it and not return it.

He draws me into him and dips his head, nudging my nose with his. “Wear whatever you want, Tink. I know how to fight.”

Large hands bracket my jaw, holding my face as he kisses me. Really kisses me, like he’s been waiting for this all day. When he pulls back, I’m breathless and dazed.

His lips trail along my neck, sending a thrill through my body from head to toe. “How should I fuck you?”

“Fuck me like I’m in trouble.”

That earns me a throaty, guttural sound of appreciation, and his mouth presses to mine again. My fingertips slide up his arms, gripping his biceps to urge him on, and heat stokes in my center as his hand travels up the back of my bare thighs, squeezing my ass over the thin lace of my panties.

He withdraws his touch, and I look up at him, confused.

Craving flashes in his eyes. “Bend over and put your hands on the bed.”

It’s an order, not a request.

My gaze slides to his king-sized bed, neatly made with a dark gray comforter. It sits on a modern, low-profile platform bedframe, and it’s hardly higher than the thickness of the mattress off the floor. Doing as he says will put me ass-up, which is exactly why he wants me to.

Facing him, I maintain eye contact as I take a few steps toward it. “You don’t want me to get naked first?”

He shakes his head. “The skirt stays on.”

My calves hit the mattress behind me, and I come to a stop. I love the way he’s looking at me right now. Desire, tinged with possession.

“What about my panties?”

“Lose them.”

He watches, rapt with attention as I slowly reach beneath the ruffled edges of my skirt and shimmy the scrap of lace down my legs, toeing it to the side. They’re sexy underwear that I bought recently to wear for him, so hopefully they’ll get some airtime later tonight when we get home.

Pivoting, I follow his instructions and place my palms down on the firm mattress. My shoulders are well below my waist, placing me nearly in a downward dog position. I’m completely exposed. Even I feel a little self-conscious, but I suppose that’s his intention.

My body tenses with anticipation as he comes to stand behind me. Somehow, the energy of his body is palpable even without us touching. He slowly gathers up my skirt and pushes it out of the way. Craning my neck, I peek over my shoulder to see what he’s going to do next.

He slaps my ass with a loud crack, massaging where he just spanked me. “Face down, Tink.”

At that, my core clenches.

I do as he says, grabbing a pillow for my head as he smooths his palms along the sides of my bare ass. My breaths grow uneven as I wait, wondering where he’s going with this. Then his hands part my thighs, pulling them wider, and one finger glides across my clit. My hips sway in response, my fingertips bunching the bedding.

“Your pussy is so pretty, baby.” He strokes me again. “All pink and wet.”

One broad palm settles on my lower back, holding me firmly in place as his other hand works between my legs, skillfully teasing until I’m trembling against him. He brings me close to orgasm over and over again, but he won’t let me come. It’s a carefully executed pattern of building and sudden withdrawal that leaves me more frustrated with each repetition. If he keeps this up, they’re going to hear me upstairs no matter how loud the video games are.

He reduces me to a quaking mess as I claw at the sheets and arch my back, frantic with need. Cold air skirts my skin as he stops touching me entirely, which is the opposite of what I’m trying to achieve.

“Ty.” I whine, wriggling shamelessly.

“Tell me how much you want my cock.”

Without hesitating, I say, “I want your cock.”

Two fingers plunge inside me, and I gasp at the sudden fullness as he thrusts them deeper. My nerves light up, core clenching. If he can just keep doing that a little longer…

“Ah.” He tsks. “You do want it.”

When he pulls away, I nearly grab his hand and force it back. Then I hear the clang of his belt, the ripping of foil, and he’s behind me. Strong fingers span my waist and dig into my hips, roughly yanking them higher. My breath catches as he thrusts inside, shoving me into the mattress with his hand twined in my hair.

I cry out, muffled by the bedding. At this angle, he’s even deeper than usual, impossibly hard and thick as he stretches me. Each thrust steals the air from my lungs, probably because it feels like he’s almost hitting them.

“Fuck, Ser. I wish you could see how good you look right now.”

He finds my clit, expertly stroking as his hips push forward into me again. In no time, I unravel around him, my walls clenching as I bury my pleas in his pillow. My knees shake as the last of the pleasure fades out, and I sag against the bed to keep myself upright.

Rather than let me recover, he keeps going, and another orgasm starts to build in my center almost immediately. Placing my wrists behind my back, I offer them to him in a show of unspoken submission. He lets out a low, feral growl of approval and pins them together with one hand. His other hand wraps around my shoulder, pinning me down against the bed, and his movements pick up speed, hitting deeper.

The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, interspersed with grunts and groans, moans and whimpers. Unlike last night, which was soft and slow, he’s fucking me—hard.

“Good job,” he praises, sinking deeper. “You take my dick so well.”

Pleasure seizes hold of my body and my legs tremble, my voice failing. I can’t respond. All I can do is hold on for dear life while he owns me at a punishing pace, unleashing a string of praise alternating with dirty talk that would make even me blush under other circumstances.

As the delicious tension in my core winds even tighter, I feel myself approach the point of no return. He releases my hands and seizes me by the waist, pulling me into him. I fist the bedding, my calves quivering. It’s even more overwhelming than the first time. It’s good, almost too good, and I never want it to end.

“Ty.” Air fills my lungs with a sharp gasp, my hips jolting. “Oh, god. I’m coming. Come with me, please.”

That earns me another spank that echoes through the air, this one hard enough to sting. He groans my name, slamming into me one more time. His body lurches forward, and his heavy frame covers mine, pushing me into the mattress as we both come undone.

“Fuck.” Breathing heavily, he collapses over me. He husks a laugh, burying his face in my neck. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” As the last ebbs of my orgasm fade away, giddiness overtakes me, and I burst into a fit of laughter. I can only assume it’s a peculiar side effect of orgasming so hard that I nearly blacked out. Factoring in my legs like jelly, he’s reduced me to a giggly, jiggly pile of goo.

Gentle kisses land along my shoulder, traveling up the curve of my neck. He nuzzles my cheek. “How are you doing? Talk to me, Tink.”

Another burst of laughter escapes my lips, partially muted by the pillow beneath me. I don’t even know why I’m laughing. I’ve heard of people crying after sex—something about disinhibition within certain parts of the brain—but never giggling uncontrollably. For some reason, I can’t stop.

“I’m sorry.” I lift my head, my eyes filling with tears. “I think you broke my brain.”

“Damn right I did.”

We untangle ourselves and he helps clean me up, his touch suddenly tender and careful and sweet. You’d never guess he was uttering filthy, nearly unspeakable things to me only moments ago.

Pulling me to him on his bed, he kisses my temple and runs his fingers through my hair from root to end. I nestle into his chest, happy and tired, willfully ignoring the outside world.

After a few more minutes, I whisper, “I should sneak back upstairs before they notice something is up.”

“Yeah.” But he doesn’t let me go.

I’m not in a hurry to leave, either. After a few more minutes, I know I have to. Stealing another quick kiss, we part ways and I dart into the bathroom to fix my hair. Or I try to—because when I open Tyler’s door, Siobhan is standing at the bottom of the stairs holding a case of coolers.

She freezes. I freeze. We gape at one another.

Obviously incriminating circumstances aside, I’m sure I look like I just got fucked. Thoroughly.

This is bad, isn’t it? On a scale of one to ten, how likely is this to make it back to my brother?

Siobhan recovers first. “Um, sorry. Dallas said there were more White Claws in the basement fridge. He’s still playing COD so I came down here to grab them. I didn’t realize you were down here.”

“Tyler and I were just… talking.” I jerk my thumb behind me to his room. “In there.”

A knowing smile forms on her lips. “Right. Talking.”

Evidently having heard our voices, Tyler steps through the doorway, and shock crosses his face. “Shiv.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I say.

She holds up her hand, pretending to shield her eyes. “I saw nothing. I know nothing.”

“Thanks Shiv,” we both say.

Overtime is crammed when we walk into the doors just past nine to meet the rest of the team for Tyler’s birthday. It’s been hard to look him in the eye without getting giddy. That he can rail me so thoroughly sometimes and be so adorable and gentle at others is a paradox that leaves me wondering in the best possible way. I never know what I’m going to get.

Though, even when he’s being dirty, he’s still sweet beneath it.

We grab empty seats at the table, placing me with Shiv and Bailey while the guys cluster together. Siobhan has been extra-nice to me all evening, probably compensating for one of the more embarrassing ways to get caught of all time.

My eyes land on the bar, and I spot Chloe standing at the register. I’d forgotten she got a new job waiting tables here. Too bad she’s working and can’t join us. I have no idea when she has the time to sleep.

When it looks like she’s got a free minute, I squeeze up to say hello. “Hey, how’s the new job going?”

Chloe’s face brightens. “Good. Much better than the old one. They don’t steal my tips, and they actually pay me on time. No flagrant human rights or health and safety violations, and no one has sexually harassed me so far. Massive upgrade.”

“That’s great,” I say. “When are you done? Any chance you can join us after?”

A few feet away, one of the side entrances opens. Reid appears in the doorway wearing a dark wool dress coat and a black scarf. He spots me and he offers me a friendly grin as he weaves past the tables to join the guys. Chloe falls unusually silent. Her green eyes track him until he disappears, then her attention returns to me.

“That’s Reid,” I tell her. “One of the guys on my brother’s team. He’s cute, hey?”

“Huh?” A dismissive wave shuts me down, and she makes a face. “No, no. I was just looking at him because he’s very…” Her gaze darts to our table again, where Reid is now sitting beside Tyler. “Tall.”

Chloe’s right: he is tall. He also happens to be panty-meltingly hot, and I suspect that’s the real draw.

“It’s okay to look, even if you don’t want to touch.”

She huffs. “I definitely don’t.”

Methinks she’s protesting too much, but I don’t want to push. I’m sure she has her reasons for being averse to dating, and I understand that. Plus, I don’t want to be nosy and overbearing like Abby. It’s better if you let people open up in their own time.

One of the other servers waves to Chloe as if to tell her to get back to work.

“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to keep you. If you want to join us on your break or after you’re finished for the night, come find me, okay?”

Chloe grabs her tray and tucks it under her arm, flashing me a smile. “I should get one in about an hour. I’ll try to come find you then.”

Starting for our table, I change my mind mid-step and take a detour to grab a drink first. The bar is crowded with people who have the same idea, forcing me to sidle down to the far end. I lean over the wooden counter, trying to get the bartender’s attention, but I’m invisible in a sea of forty other people waving fistfuls of cash.

“Sera.” A familiar male voice cuts in. “Thought I saw you there.”

Ambivalence grips me, and I glance over to see Rob giving me a friendly grin. When I look a little closer, he’s drunk. His eyes are glassy, his posture a little looser than normal. You wouldn’t know it at first glance; his designer dress shirt has a few buttons at the top undone and his clothes are still neatly pressed.

“Hey…” Abby and I still haven’t cleared the air since our falling out. Since I mostly see and speak to him in association to her, it’s more than a little awkward. Is she here too? I hope not.

He shoves his hands into his pants pockets, stepping closer. “Can we talk for a second?”

My phone vibrates in my purse, a reminder I need to get back to our table. But I don’t want to be rude, so I can make it quick. It’s probably about Abby, anyway. He’s played peacemaker with us before in the past when we’ve had fights. This isn’t an ordinary fight, though. No amount of mediating is going to make me less upset about how she’s been treating me. I’m fairly certain we’re on the cusp of a friendship breakup, or that it’s already happened.

“Sure,” I concede. “But only for a second. Chase is going to wonder where I am.” And Tyler.

Rob leans a hip against the bar, facing me. “I’ve missed you, Sera.”

My stomach does a flip-flop. Wait, what? This isn’t how I thought the conversation would go.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I remind him again. Abby confirmed as much prior to our fight. His claims of “not being committed” didn’t pass my fact check.

Irritation flickers across his face, gone in a blink. “Like I said, we have an understanding.”

“Rob—” I start, then mentally stumble. Can’t tell him about Tyler, so I’ll offer the rest of the truth instead. “Look, there seems to be some confusion. I don’t see you that way. You’re my friend. That’s it.”

“You know there’s something between us. There always has been.” His hand lands on my wrist, and my heart jumps.

When I yank it away, he offers no resistance. “Don’t. You’re being inappropriate.”

Rob moves closer. A deluge of his cologne surrounds me, along with whiskey or some other hard liquor he’s been drinking. My hands are shaking, my pulse rocketing off the charts. At least we’re not alone. In fact, we’re surrounded by people, and I’m worried one of the wrong ones is going to see.

“Take the hint, Rob. I’m not interested.”

He tsks. “Come on, Sera. No one dresses like that unless they’re looking for attention.”

“Fuck you!” It may not be wise to snap at him given the circumstances, but my filter slips away before I can stop myself. “We’re supposed to be friends, and then you go and say something like that to me? What’s wrong with you?”

Instead of getting angry like I expect, he huffs a laugh and steps closer. “Calm down. I was kidding.”

Kidding. Right. Otherwise known as the go-to gaslighting method of misogynists everywhere. They’re joking—until they mean it.

“Come on, Sera. Don’t be mad.”

I don’t know how it happens, or how I fail to react in time, but suddenly he’s moved even closer, he’s touching my face, and his lips are on mine. He’s kissing me. Trying to, anyway, since I’m not kissing him back. Shock holds me frozen, and while I want to move—know I should move—nothing is happening.

“Stop it.” I pull my head away and try to push him back, but he doesn’t budge.

He scoffs, leaning in again. “What, now you’re playing hard to get all of the sudden?”

“What the fuck?” A familiar voice roars.

Everything happens in slow motion. A tattooed hand lands on my chest, gently pushing me back a few steps. I look up in time to see a fist connect with Rob’s face, making a sickening crunch. My eyes come into focus on Tyler’s. Slate eyes blaze with anger, a vein in his forehead prominent. He looks like he’s strongly considering homicide as a valid course of action.

I’ve never seen him so angry, and I’m scared he’s going to get himself in trouble because of me.

“Ty—” I start.

Gripping Rob by the front of his shirt, Tyler places his free hand on my shoulder and wordlessly moves me further to the side. His attention remains laser-focused on Rob. Heeding Tyler’s non-verbal warning, I move a little further out of their radius.

People surrounding us stop talking, some gathering to watch. None intervene.

“What the fuck is your damage, you psycho?” Rob jerks in Tyler’s grip, fighting unsuccessfully to liberate himself.

“What’s yours? You heard her tell you to stop.” Tyler lets go of the fabric and hits him again, connecting with his nose this time. Rob stumbles back, clutching his face. Then he takes a run at Tyler, and they get tangled in a scuffle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dallas jogs up and puts himself in the middle of them, holding them apart. “Donohue, dude. Take a beat. What the hell is going on?”

“This fucker was all over her, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.” Tyler tries to step around Dallas again, and Dallas stops him. Barely.

Panicked, I glance over my shoulder, because it’s only a matter of time before Chase notices this scene. There’s no chance this is going to get resolved before he does.

“I should press charges,” Rob says, grabbing a handful of napkins off the bar. There’s blood splattered across the front of his shirt. “This is assault.”

“Go ahead.” Tyler snorts.” Then we can tell the cops that you were trying to force yourself on a girl who’s not even old enough to legally drink. Bet your law firm would love to hear it too.”

Rob laughs dryly. “They’re not going to care about some slut.”

I flinch. This time, Tyler almost gets past Dallas. He’s clearly expending all of his strength to hold Tyler back, and neither of them is small.

“Ty. He isn’t worth it.” I touch his forearm to get his attention, gently squeezing.

He glances down at me, and some of the anger across his face recedes, replaced with worry. His steel gray eyes hold mine for a beat, a million unspoken questions across his face that I’m not ready to answer. Then he looks back at Rob, and fury reignites in his eyes.

Rob pinches his nose, his voice strained. “You should listen to your girlfriend.”

“Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on,” Chase snarls.

When I turn around, I find my brother staring at us with betrayal all over his face.