GAMES WE PLAY
Entering the small bar on the side of the highway, Remy didn’t harbor high expectations for the night, not until he notices the most gorgeous man in the place checking him out from across the room. Casual hookups in dark alleys aren’t his style, but he knows he’d be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.
From the moment the blond beauty stepped into the room, Colt had to have him, even if just for the night. Their parking lot tryst gets off to a sizzling start, especially when Colt realizes the barfly enjoys a firmer hand. It’s just a one night stand, though. What does it matter if he can’t remember the man’s name?
Unfortunately for him, it matters a lot to Remy, and Colt’s one-time fling is about to become much more than he expected.
Unfortunately, before he could reach the door, his toe caught on the leg of a barstool, and he stumbled a couple of steps before finding his balance. If that hadn’t been embarrassing enough, his misstep didn’t go unnoticed, either. Before he could make his getaway, the man he’d been drooling over for half an hour appeared in front of him, smirking as though he knew a secret but wouldn’t share.
“Whoa, easy.” He placed his massive hand in the center of Remy’s chest to stop him. “Do you have a ride? ’Cause I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“No, I’m fine. I only had a beer, half a second one, and some foo-foo drink.” His heart beat too fast, and he felt a little lightheaded, but it didn’t have anything to do with the alcohol he’d consumed. “I’m okay, really. Thank you.”
“Maybe I should drive you home, just in case.”
“No, no, thank you.” He tried to sidestep, but the guy moved with him, cutting off his exit. “I promise I’m not drunk.”
“I believe you.” The cocky grin that stretched his lips only made Remy’s heart beat faster and his dick throb to the point of pain. “Maybe I just wanted to get you on your knees in the back of my truck.”
His eyes rounded, and the air whooshed out of his lungs in a sharp gasp. “I…I…” Remy didn’t know what to say, so he snapped his lips closed to stop his stammering.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Stepping closer, crowding against him, the guy insinuated a hand between them and cupped Remy’s erection through his jeans. “I’ll take this as a firm yes.”
Remy’s heart crawled up into his throat, cutting off any reply he might have offered. Those deep, dark eyes mesmerized him, holding him captive to his own lust. Still unable to form intelligible words, he licked his lips and nodded toward the exit. He didn’t typically engage in one night stands or clandestine encounters in the back alley, and while they’d flirted some, he honestly hadn’t thought the guy was that interested.
Opportunities like this didn’t present themselves often, though, not in Remy’s experience, and he’d be an idiot to pretend he didn’t want it. So he said nothing as he was led by the elbow to the exit.
“I…” he croaked. Then he cleared his throat and added some bass to his voice in an attempt to sound more confident than he felt. “I still don’t know your name.”
“Does it matter?”
Remy shrugged. “I guess not.” He’d likely never see the guy again, so no, it didn’t really matter.
Neither of them spoke again as they hurried across the litter-strewn asphalt to the shadowy recess in the back corner of the parking lot. Approaching the jacked up Ford 4×4, his mysterious bar hookup swung him around, pushing him roughly against the side of the truck and pinning him in place with his muscled body.
Large, callused hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt and scraped along the expanse of his stomach to the waistband of his jeans. “Colton,” the guy growled in his ear. “You can call me Colt.” Then his mouth crashed down on Remy’s with heat and hunger.
Remy’s body lit up like the Las Vegas strip, and he opened readily, allowing Colt to thrust his tongue between his parted lips. The man didn’t just kiss, he consumed, and each confident stroke of his tongue over Remy’s felt like a promise of things to come. When the top button of his jeans popped open and Colt reached inside the denim to grasp Remy’s rigid cock, his world tilted on its axis and started to spin.
“I’ve never done anything like this.”
“It’s easy,” Colt teased. “I’ll show you.”
“I meant hooking up in a parking lot.”
“I know.” He scraped his teeth down the side of Remy’s neck and licked a wet path back up to his earlobe. “You talk too much.”
In the next heartbeat, Remy found himself pushed to his knees on the hard asphalt, staring up at Colt while his heart pounded painfully against his sternum. Though he anticipated what would happen next, the hard set of Colt’s jaw and the dominance in his stance still sent a ripple of electricity down his spine.
Zayne Michaels is a small-town girl who grew up and ran off to the big city. She currently resides in the Midwest where she spends her days dreaming up dark, sexy adventures in between soccer games and the never-ending pile of laundry.
Zayne’s fascination with old and discarded treasures has always been a source of inspiration for her tales. From antique clocks to old, dilapidated houses, her imagination turns to the what ifs and what used to bes.
Maybe this love for the abandoned is why she is a firm advocate of second chances, or perhaps she’s just a little crazy. Whatever the reason, Zayne believes everyone chooses their own path, creates their own destiny, and is the author of their own story.