Play Me (25 page)

Jake groaned when I
reached his belt.

I made short work of
his zipper, pushing the jeans and the soft cotton briefs downward,
freeing his rock hard cock. It throbbed in my hand as I ran my palm
up and down the length of it.

“Do you feel how
much I want you?” Jake gathered my hair in his hands.

As a response, I
wrapped my lips around him, sliding him deep into my mouth. I took as
much as I could, my tongue stroking him. My entire body ached for
him, so I didn’t protest when he pulled me back to his mouth,
his cock pressed between our bodies.

“I like you on
your knees,” he murmured in my ear. Still in his arms, I
twisted my body so my ass was flush against his cock and leaned
forward, bracing my hands on the bed. When I glanced over my shoulder
at him, the look on his face was equal parts reverence, equal parts
lust.

“Come on, baby,”
I told him. “Don’t make me wait.”

Jake fumbled for his
jeans, for the condom, but his hands were steady as he ripped open
the packet and slid the condom down his hard length.

“Are you ready?”
He teased the head of his cock along my clit and I shuddered at the
friction.

“Fuck me,”
I moaned.

His hands gripped my
hips as he guided his cock inside me.

“Oh my god.”
I bit my lip as he slid deeper than ever before.

“Ella,” he
groaned above me, his fingers tight against my waist. “Fuck,
you feel amazing.” Slowly he withdrew, each inch an impossible
pleasure. Then he thrust, one hand wrapped around my waist, his
fingers finding my clit.

“Jaaaaaaake,”
I moaned, his fingers and cock stroking me together, the sensation
driving me insane. I felt the tension build inside me, stronger than
before.

“Come for me,
baby,” he growled in my ear, each word punctuated by the
movement of his hips against mine. “I want to feel you come.”

And I did, my fingers
curled into the sheets, my head thrown back as ripples of pleasure
echoed through me. I collapsed on the bed, expecting Jake to follow.
But he withdrew, rolling onto the bed next to me.

“Come here,”
he urged, and I climbed on top of him, my body still shaking with the
pleasure he had given me.

He grasped my waist as
I straddled him, my red heels on either side of his hips. Slowly, I
eased my body down on his cock, both of us groaning as he slid deep
inside me.

“Best view in the
city,” Jake choked out, his palms reaching up to cup my breasts
as I rolled my hips forward. I rode him, slowly at first, but then
faster as another orgasm began to build inside me.

“Come with me,
Jake,” I urged, leaning forward as my hips bucked against his,
taking him deeper and deeper. My hair created a curtain around us as
he reached his hand around my neck, pulling my mouth to his, his
tongue thrusting against mine, his hand stroking my clit, and I found
myself falling, the pleasure overwhelming me.

But before my orgasm
could crest, Jake gathered me to his chest and rolled us both over,
so I was on my back on the bed. Then he thrust deeper inside of me,
faster and faster until I was moaning with pleasure. With a roar,
Jake pressed his body deep inside mine and shuddered his release.

Collapsing onto the
bed, he gathered me into his arms, holding me tight. Exhaustion
overcame me, but just as I was falling asleep, Jake kissed my
forehead.

“I love you,”
he whispered.

Ella

I woke, my red heels
still on, to the sound of my phone ringing. No, not just my phone.
Phones. Jake stirred in my arms, our naked bodies tangled together.
The incredible night we spent together replayed in my mind, stopping
short at the end.

Had Jake told me he
loved him?

And if he had, did he
mean it? I knew better than to trust what guys said immediately after
sex, but this was Jake. He was different from other guys. And I loved
him. Oh god, how I loved him.

“Turn off the
alarm,” Jake mumbled, gathering me closer.

“Not the alarm,”
I told him, gently releasing from his grasp. He groaned his
disapproval, his face smushed into a pillow. “Our phones are
ringing.” I groped for mine, the ring tone indicating an
unknown number. Jake’s phone on the other hand, was chanting,
“I like big butts and I cannot lie . . .”

I couldn’t help
smiling as I dug it out of the pocket of his jeans and tossed it at
him.

“Dakota’s
calling,” I informed him, wrapping the sheet around me as I
answered my phone.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ella
Thomas?” It was an unfamiliar female voice.

“Yes,” I
told her, as I heard Jake answering the phone behind me.

“This better be
important, Dakota,” he said gruffly.

“Well, Ms.
Thomas.” The woman on the other end of my line had a cheery
tone. “I am very happy to inform you that you are the winner of
this year’s Menuhin competition.”

“What?” I
wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly.

“What?”
Jake echoed behind me. “Read that again,” he said to
Dakota.

“There will be a
formal awards ceremony,” the woman was saying. “But we
like to call our winners and tell them personally beforehand.”

The reality of her
words began to sink in. “I won?”

“He did?”
Jake exclaimed behind me. “Really?”

“Yes, Ms.
Thomas,” the woman said kindly. “Congratulations. We
think you are an enormous talent and are proud to have you as this
year’s winner.”

I sat there, shock
rendering speech impossible as she explained about the awards
ceremony and the mentorship program and the opportunities that
previous recipients have been given, only half listening until I
finally processed exactly what had happened.

“I won,” I
said again.

“Yes, Ms.
Thomas.” The voice sounded very patient. No doubt this was the
kind of response they usually got. “Why don’t I call you
back tomorrow and we can give you all the details.”

“Okay,” I
somehow responded and hung up the phone, letting it drop back onto
the bed. My face had gone numb. My fingers too. And my feet. No, they
kind of hurt because I was still wearing heels. I slipped my red
shoes off.

“Holy shit,”
I heard Jake murmur behind me.

I spun around.

“I won!” I
exclaimed at the same time he said:

“We’re a
hit!”

“What?” we
both said and burst out laughing.

“You first.”
I grinned at him.

“Dakota said that
the reviews for the restaurant are all raves. Everyone is talking
about how great it was, and Matt Metcalf, the guy who called me
unoriginal, issued a retraction, saying that he was wrong and he
can’t wait to see what I do next.” Jake rubbed the back
of his neck, astonishment all over his face. “He’s still
a jerk, but at least now he’s a jerk with good taste.”

“That’s
amazing!” I reached across the bed to kiss him.
“Congratulations.”

“What was your
news?” His face was flushed with excitement.

“I won the
Menuhin competition,” I blurted out, still unable to believe it
was true.

Jake’s eyes
widened. “I knew it!” He surged to his feet, completely
naked, and pulled me into his arms. “Congratulations, baby,”
he said and swept me into a kiss.

“Wow,” I
said, when we broke apart. “I should win competitions more
often.”

“You will,”
Jake told me. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud
of you, too.” I couldn’t imagine a better place to be at
the moment than wrapped up in his embrace.

Jake’s face went
serious all of a sudden. “I meant it, you know,” he said.

“What?”

“Last night. When
I said I love you.”

My heart soared. “I
love you, too.”

Jake’s smile lit
up his entire face. He took my face in his hands and kissed me,
gently, sweetly.

“Let’s move
in together,” he said suddenly. “A place of our own,
where every day you can teach piano and I can bake brownies, and
every night, you’ll wear black lingerie and I’ll take it
off you with my teeth.”

I shuddered with
pleasure at the image.

“Say yes, Ella.”

I threw my arms around
his neck. “Of course, Jake. Yes!”

And this time when we
kissed, I heard music.

THE END

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Thank you to everyone
who inspired these characters and their quirks. Ella’s
cropdusting Dad (thanks Jenn W.!), to Jake’s delicious homemade
chicken soup (thank you Zach!), to the totally enviable sister bond
(thanks RandR). So many thanks to the bloggers for supporting my
debut, but a special shout-out to Bookalicious Book Babes, Red Cheeks
Reads, Literary Gossip, and Give Me Books. And to Carrie Aarons,
Helena Hunting, and Melanie Harlow, thank you for welcoming me so
warmly to the world of indie authors.

Thank you to C for your
unwavering support. I missed you when you were away, but Jake kept me
warm. Thanks Mommy for everything.

If you thought Jake was delicious, you might like Nathan Ryder and his
fast balls in
GAME ON
,
Available Now
.

Austin was hot as
balls. I yanked my broken suitcase towards the doors of the Driskill
Hotel, sweating like a sinner in church. Maybe I could afford a new
one after this assignment. A fancy suitcase, with actual wheels and a
zipper that didn’t need to be duct
taped to stay closed.

“It’s
got personality,” I could hear my mom say. It had been a gift
from her. A really good find in her favorite thrift store in South
Houston.

“Inanimate
objects should not have personality,” I muttered to myself.
“Personality is just another word for cheap.” I was tired
of things with personality. I wanted something with class. With
style.

The whoosh of the
automatic doors greeted me, as did the orgasmic rush of A/C that
filled the hotel lobby. I let out a whistle under my breath. It was
the most beautiful hotel I had ever seen—gleaming white floors,
a chrome staircase curving down the middle, and above me, a beautiful
crystal chandelier. The
Register
had
spared no expense with this trip—a hotel with A/C and a
chandelier? I had arrived.

Now I just needed to
make sure I stayed arrived. I had worked too damn hard to get to
where I was, I needed to knock this interview out of the park and
prove to them that I was worthy of the promotion they had given me.
Perhaps my future held more than just a new suitcase.

I was dragging my
old one towards the front desk when my phone—also in desperate
need of an update—rang. I fished it out of my pocket. Nick. Of
course. He probably wanted to know where the peanut butter was. I
ignored it and flashed the patent “I might be annoying, but I’m
also adorable” smile at the hotel clerk. Something else I had
gotten from my mother.

“Welcome,
ma’am,” he said with a lovely
twang. He looked barely eighteen, with puberty’s
last zits fading on his chin. Not that I really could talk; I had
just turned twenty-three and was practically an infant to most of my
co-workers, who had been reporters for the length of my entire life.

“How can I
help you?” he asked.

I opened my mouth
and my phone rang. Loudly. Nick again. I switched it to vibrate, put
it in my pocket and turned back to the clerk.

“Checking in,”
I said. “Sophie Hall.”

“Of course,
Ms. Hall,” the clerk said. His nametag said Greg. “We’ve
been expecting you.”

My phone vibrated.

“Sorry,”
I pulled it from my pocket, doing the obnoxious “one
minute” finger that I had hated being on the other end
of during my years as a waitress. I knew it was rude to answer the
phone, but I didn’t think Nick was
going to stop calling. “It’s on
the top shelf,” I said, as my greeting. Might as well get to
the point as quickly as possible.

“Sophie.”
Nick’s usual baritone voice took on a
high-pitched whine through my beat-up phone speakers. I winced. I
definitely needed a new phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m
in Austin, Nick,” I said, trying to control my
frustration. This happened each time I had to go somewhere for an
assignment. “I told you three times. And I left you a note. Two
notes actually.”

“Why are you
in Austin?”

“I’m
interviewing Nathan Ryder,” I told him patiently. “The
Longhorns’ star player, remember?
Houston boy? The one who’s probably
heading to the majors next year?”

I was sure he
wouldn’t
know what I was talking about. Nick didn’t
know anything about sports. If it didn’t
play an instrument he wasn’t
interested.

“But my band
is playing tonight,” he said and this time the whine wasn’t
just from the phone.

“I know,”
I said. “I’m sorry I can’t
be there, but this is a really important assignment.”

He sighed. It was
one of his specialty guilt sighs. I hated it, especially since I was
pretty sure he had learned it from my mom even though they had never
met. We’d been together for six
months and this was the first time I was missing one of his shows.
Sometimes I was the only person in the audience, which is probably
why it was so vital I was there. But I was not going to give up this
important opportunity to listen to the same five songs. Not this
time.

“I’m
sorry,” I said again, not sure if he had hung up on me or
fallen asleep. It was two in the afternoon, which was pretty early
for him. When I had left the apartment several hours ago, he had
still been sleeping. He looked so handsome when he was sleeping, all
tousled hair and sexy cheekbones.