Page 59 of Play Dirty

Because she doesn’t want him, or me. She wants us.

The climax is loud. We are slick with sweat by the time we’re exhausted. She has come from two men spilling out of her pussy. It drips onto Alexander’s leg. She collapses against his chest and he hugs her.

And there’s no room for me now.

None at all.

CHAPTER TEN

“So… what’s going on? You’re having some kind of existential crisis?”

“What?” I ask, looking at Darrel. His face is dead serious. Like this is the most important thing about this conversation we’re having. Which it isn’t. Because we’re discussing my father taking the day off and me picking up a case of his this afternoon. “Why the hell would you ask me that?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not getting defensive. I’m just wondering where you’re getting the impression I’m having some kind of identity crisis when we’re talking about my father.”

And I’m wondering that because I haven’t said much to Darrel about this whole A&A Bartos tragedy-in-the-making. He’s kinda judge-y and to be quite honest, I’m not in the mood for his self-righteous judgment.

“It’s an easy leap,” Darrel says.

“No, it’s not. So what? I’m having a little fling with some exes. That has absolutely nothing to do with my father.”

“Your father being… sick,” he corrects me. His gaze locked on mine. His eyes completely devoid of emotion. Some people find that glare intimidating but I know it’s just his resting bitch-face.

“We don’t know he’s sick. He just went in for some tests. The results haven’t even come back yet.”

Darrel raises his eyebrows at me. That look says, Come on, asshole. Don’t bullshit me.

“He just needs a day off,” I say. I start that sentence with conviction but by the time I finish, even I’m not buying it. “And anyway, I just need you to tell me what I need to juggle to keep this day on track, that’s all.”

He stares at me. Silent. Slowly nodding. Then he tosses a file onto my desk and says, “It’s just a deposition. But it’s not here. It’s down at the offices of Sawyer, Brand, and Farfield.”

“Thanks,” I say, picking up the folder and opening it. Pretending to be absorbed in legalese.

“Is there anything else I can help you with that Eileen should be doing?”

“Fuck you,” I say.

“She’s worried about her job.”

“She is not,” I say, snapping at him. “She knows I just like you to handle my schedule because of the games.”

Well, she’s not really in on the game part. But my days are fluid and Darrel is the one I want handling that kind of thing, not her.

“Don’t you have shit to do?” I ask him. I’m getting annoyed and I hate being around people when I’m annoyed because I turn into an asshole. And turning into an asshole feels good in the moment, but I always regret it the next moment, and then I feel worse… so yeah. He needs to go.

“Yup,” Darrel says, taking the hint. “Call me if you need anything.”

He walks out and it’s only when the door closes that I remember to call out, “Thank you!” to him.

Not that he’s some whiny bitch who needs praise, or anything. I sigh. It just makes me feel like less of an asshole.

Then my phone buzzes and Eileen says, “Jordan?”

“Yeah?”

“Alexander Bartos is here to see you.”