Page 43 of Play Dirty

He grabs her wrists and I’m on my feet. My heart pounding too, my head spinning at what I’m about to witness. He pushes her backwards until she bumps into the back of the couch. He pushes her again, hard, and she falls backwards, legs in the air. Alexander has his hands up inside her dress, pulling on her panties. She either lets him get them off, or it’s possible he’s just that quick, I’m not sure. But as soon as her panties go flying over his shoulder, she connects a flat-footed kick to his chest.

I know that hurts. I can feel it from here.

He grabs her legs, spreading them open. Augustine is still upended. Head and shoulders on the couch cushions, knees bent over the back of the couch, Alexander’s hands on her ankles.

She begins to kick and grunt, but he reaches down and grabs her long hair with both hands, pulling her back up so she’s now sitting on the back of the couch, her eyes level with his chest.

Her fingers go to his shirt, ripping it open. Buttons go flying and Alexander tries to back away, but she holds tight, refusing to let him.

I’m… I dunno the word for it. Stunned? Mesmerized?

“That’s enough,” he says. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Augustine begs. She’s on her feet, still holding the two flapping ends of his open shirt. Leaning up on her tiptoes, trying to kiss him.

He shakes his head, pries her hands off him, and then backs away, breathing heavy and hard as he turns to me. “There,” he says. “That should give you an idea.”

“Don’t stop!” Augustine says. “Come on! He’s here. He’s—”

“He’s got no fucking clue, August!” Alexander practically shouts. It’s loud enough to stop her begging. She lets go of his shirt and sits down on the back of her couch, twirling her body so she can flop down onto the cushions.

“Uh…” I say.

“Yeah,” Alexander says, taking off his suit coat and throwing it over a dining room chair. He takes off his shirt too. And I get a little stuck on the perfectly sculpted physique of his chest.

“Ahh,” I try again. “I think you two are fucking crazy.”

“Fuck you,” Augustine spits. But she’s not looking at me. She’s truly pissed off this… whatever it was just ended.

Alexander looks at me, then shrugs. Like he’s with me, but… a girl wants what she wants. And, well, what can you do?

Get another crazy player is their answer, I guess. “Look, you guys. I don’t think—”

“Then get out,” Augustine snarls.

But when I look at Alexander he gives me a little shake of his head. Like… maybe this is all part of the game?

I suddenly understand how Issy Grey felt when I set her up in a game she didn’t ask to play. I might need a poster slogan to help me make sense of this.

At the very least, I need to talk to Lucinda. And Chella. Because… oh, yeah. This is one for the books.

And then he… he mouths something. “What?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes at me. Then mouths it again. Slower. Exaggerated. Fuck her.

Fuck her… like she can fuck off? Or he’s telling me to fuck his wife?

“I need to go.”

“Jordan!” Augustine says, scrambling to her knees and peeking her head over the couch. “No. Stay. Come on. You know this interests you. You know you and I have something good. And you and Alexander—”

I shake my head. “No… I don’t think—”

But then… somehow… Alexander has crossed the room and he’s right up next to me. His bare chest pressing against mine as he leans in, grabs my face, and kisses me.

I’m so surprised I can’t even decide what I should do about this. Like… pull away? Or kiss him back? And then Augustine is sliding under Alexander’s arm, inserting herself between us.

“Don’t leave now,” she says, her hands on Alexander’s, which are still holding my face. She leans up on her tiptoes and begins kissing us. Both of us, as he kisses me and…