Try and Play Me, Boy (The Playgirls #2) Page 5

  Shane laughed, pointing toward a bean bag.

  Apparently, he didn't do chairs.

  “That's not going to happen,” he said, not bothering to pretend he didn't know what he was referring to. “Brooke’s a brat. And she doesn't see me as anything other than another brother to torture, thank fuck. I don't do relationships.”

  Colt rose an eyebrow. I don’t do relationships was one of those things men said to save face. Ok, they generally meant it between age fifteen and twenty-five, thirty max; but later on, it just translated to I haven’t found a decent girl willing to stick by me, but don’t feel too sorry for me, I'm coping.

  “I mean it. I had a wife. She taught me everything I need to know about women. I'm not doing it again.”

  “Well, I'd very much like to do it,” Colt replied, air quoting the last word. “But I need to know what I'm walking into. Alice will be difficult, but what about the rest of the family?”

  “Dad will give you the look; he might even take you sparing at his boxing club if you give him the chance… Don’t, by the way. Or put Alice’s name on your life insurance before you go.”

  Good to know.

  “But mum knows Alice. She took one flaw and ran away with it, because she's scared. Mum will help you. And she'll make brownies.”

  Colt found a lot of humor in the fact that his family had Alice’s back, while hers seemed to steer toward him; they probably were exasperated with them both, because those closest to them knew just how damn perfect they were for each other.

  He certainly did.

  “Why did she shut me out like that, Shane? Not after I made her question us, she was pushing me away from day one. When we started it, she said she just wanted… You know.”

  His dick. He wasn't saying it out loud in front of her brother, though.

  “That, my friend, is going back to my dear ex-wife. You know a few of Alice’s boyfriends have been unfaithful? Well, the last one broke a new record. He screwed around with his secretary, who also happened to be my wife, at the time. She got pregnant, and went to tell Alice, first. Then, she was so good as to inform me that the child I'd been fucking delighted about for five months wasn't mine.”

  Well, that explained so much – including why Alice had insisted on the paternity test.

  “Alice wasn't overly open before, but that messed her up. I'm not sure she's actually had any relationship at any point between him and you – and that asshole fucked us all up over three years ago.”

  “He needs to have his ass kicked.”

  Shane broke into a huge grin.

  “You got him, didn't you?”

  He shrugged and shook his head, but there was still something smug in his expression.

  “I don't hit people. They can sue you, and other unpleasantness. I prefer not to leave any trace.”

  That sounded interesting.

  “Please do tell?”

  Shane pointed towards the open door.

  “Brooke. She might seem harmless, but believe me, she’s anything but, if you give her a computer, a cellphone… Hell, I’m sure she’d make some damage with a gameboy, given half a chance. I asked her to get revenge when I was drunk; I didn’t think she would – she was pretty damn plastered, too… but she got in his account and wiped it clean; no trace. There’s an animal shelter somewhere which got a huge anonymous boost all of the sudden. Fiona wasn’t into him because of his pretty face. She liked me, but all my money was going into my business, rather than her shoe addiction; he paid for everything she wanted, until he couldn’t. She dumped him when she realized he was broke, and she tried to come back to me.”

  Colt learnt a lot of lessons, one of them being, do not, under any circumstances, underestimate anyone who has a cute geeky girl with Hogwarts T-Shirts on their speed-dial.

  He spent an hour at Shane’s; he was easy to talk to, and could relate to – or explain – a lot of what happened in his brain.

  When he made it out of the flat, Brooke was doing some hoola-hooping, rolling her hips at the sound of some club music.

  He caught Shane glancing down towards the hips, and cursing. It took him a while to look away.

  Colt chuckled; the girl knew what she was doing.

  He hoped that story would resolve itself while he was still in town; as it wasn't his drama, it was going to be fun to watch.

  Chapter 8:

  Alice smiled and nodded, wishing there was a wall she could hit her skull against.

  Her mother was swiftly and surely driving her over the edge of madness. She loved Mara with everything she had, but she was another well-meaning order away from strangling her.

  Mara had forced her to eat and when the food had traveled right back up her throat, she'd given her a disgusting herbal tea. She'd thrown that up, too. Alice had asked for crackers for lunch – the only thing her stomach could hold.

  But apparently, Mara had run out of crackers so she'd made her curry, which admittedly was her favorite food. When she wasn’t freaking pregnant!

  She'd thrown up so much over the last couple of days every inch of the pathway from her stomach to her mouth hurt. Why the hell had she believed coming here was a good idea?

  She ran to the door in the middle of another Mara rant when the bell rang, and her mouth opened in wonder at what she found there.

  Colt. Colt was here.

  God, had he always been that goddamn gorgeous, or was there something about the light that made his hair shiner, his eyes greener, his shoulder bulkier…

  Her brain processed that information at the speed of light when Mara’s voice resounded:

  “Honey? Who’s here?”

  Escape. Escape was here, and Mara was not taking it away.

  Alice hurried outside – never mind her slippers and PJs – grabbing Colt’s hand on her way.

  She made a bee-line to the rental BMW parked in front of the house, and jumped in the passenger seat.

  “Get me out of here and my soul is yours.”

  He laughed, while turning the key in the ignition.

  “Where to, princess?”

  She considered it for a while; not because she didn't know where she wanted to go, but because it sounded dumb, and would make her feel even more immature than she'd recently come to realize she was.

  But she looked in his eyes and there was no accusation there, no judgement, just the curious sense of appreciation she always felt next to him.

  “Can I borrow a fifty?”

  He outright laughed at that.

  “No, baby mama. You can never borrow anything from me. Ask and it shall be given.”

  Oh. Ok, then.

  “I need shoes, and maybe jeans. Then, you can take me home.”

  •

  She fell asleep ten minutes into the six hour journey back to Los Angeles, and didn't even twitch when he carried her up to his flat.

  Home.

  She could have meant anything by that, so he took full advantage of the miscommunication.

  Having her at his place felt pretty damn fantastic, although she wasn't actually conscious.

  When he'd stopped for petrol, he'd sent a text to Shane, with whom he'd thankfully exchanged contact details, to let him know he was taking Alice back.

  Quick work, bro. Word of advice, though: go to Vegas and mum will kill you.

  He could imagine that.

  That message prompted a third stop, once he was back in town; he made it as quick as possible, but it was necessary.

  Alice didn’t wake up until the morning.

  He'd installed her in the spare bedroom out of respect, but concern had made him abandon his own bed and stay next to her.

  He also called Clark, the family doctor, who popped by around one.

  “She's slightly underweight,” he said, “and the blood pressure isn't optimal, but there's no emergency. Call when she wakes up, I'll make sure Suzanne sees her this week.”

  Colt went to bed partially reassured, although he couldn't quite bring himself to retur
n to his bedroom.

  Sometime during the night, Alice had curled up against him, and he woke up firmly held in her arms.

  They were stronger than they looked. He reluctantly detached himself when he needed to get up and take a leak; when he came back, she was sitting up on her bed, visibly bewildered.

  Some of her confusion faded as she took him in.

  “Hey,” he said from the doorframe.

  Colt stayed where he was, unsure of her reaction if he walked closer – particularly since he was just wearing boxers.

  “Hey back. I really can't remember yesterday. You came and took me back, but the details are fuzzy.”

  “You slept the whole time, lazy pants.”

  Worry was obvious on her face; well, now he had to be close to her and comfort her.

  He walked in, making for the other side of the bed, where he'd slept; to ensure she wasn’t taking offense, he hid under the cover.

  Colt managed to prevent himself from doing a fist-pump when she joined him there.

  “I was worried, so our family doctor came in. He didn't do any of the exams you need though – you were passed out, so you couldn't give your consent. And I have no right to.”

  That part really, really pissed him off. Her wellbeing was completely outside of the realm of things he could control.

  “Did he find anything wrong with me?”

  “Not much, just your blood pressure. His wife is the best OB/GYN in LA, and she'll see you as soon as possible, though.”

  The wrinkle of worry between her brows was getting to him.

  Colt reached out under the covers, and pulled her forward, clasping her slight frame to his.

  “You'll be ok, princess.”

  “I can't eat,” she confessed, her voice barely there. “I throw everything up. I'm starving all the time, but I just can't hold anything down and it hurts when I vomit.”

  He held on to her harder.

  “I've read that a lot of that happens at the beginning. You'll be ok, princess. You and our little girl there.”

  “Little girl, hmm?”

  Colt shrugged. He didn't care either way, but yeah, if he could pick, he'd want a girl as cute as Alice.

  “Alice, I need to speak to you. Last night, you might really have needed help; you’re OK, but you might not have been. I don't want it to happen again, when I’m not around. Regardless, we’re having a child…”

  He knew before he felt her shake her head that he was screwing it up. If anything, you’re ill, let's get hitched, was even worse than we’re having a kid, maybe we should get married while we're at it, and he'd somehow condensed both.

  He shut his mouth at her unspoken response, not bothering to formulate the question she was expecting.

  Not this time. He knew when he needed to drop the flag and regroup.

  After a while, Colt tried another angle.

  “Hear me out,” he said, pretending he had so not been about to propose. “You’re not well and Emma and Lucy have their jobs to think about. I’d like you to move here, that’s all. I’ll change my work pattern around to ensure I can do most of what I need to work on at home. I have no intention to cage you in like a prisoner, but if someone needs to call an ambulance, I’ll be there.”

  •

  Hyperemesis gravidarum. It might sound like a Harry Potter spell, but it wasn't nearly as glamorous.

  That meant, in short, that she threw up a lot and could consequently feel faint and dehydrated.

  She was asked to stick to the dry and bland food she'd begged for – crackers were a must – and loads of water.

  The doctor also prescribed some medicine, and afterwards, they got to the fun part.

  “Oh, here we are,” Suzanne said, smiling. “Two heart beats.”

  Alice was instantly worried; why the hell did her baby have two hearts? But Colt caught up quicker.

  “Twins?”

  Shit. There was going to be two human beings coming out of her in the middle of September.

  Colt’s hand squeezed hers harder, and she breathed out. They'll be fine.

  “When can we see them?”

  “Eight weeks is a little early for an ultrasound, but we can set one up for our next appointment, in four weeks. In the meantime, Alice, I will give you my personal phone number. Both Gia and Harry are friends of ours, so any problem, at any time, I want you to call. Understood?”

  She nodded, and they were off, hand in hand.

  Alice glanced down towards their intertwined fingers and tried to clench the panic sizing her. Again. She'd felt the same thing earlier that morning, when she’d believed he’d been about to propose.

  Of course, he hadn’t been. When she realized that, she was mortified, because hello, this was Colton Colburn.

  At the same time, she’d felt a pang, wishing he had popped the question.

  She would have answered no, without a doubt, though.

  What was wrong with her?

  “Princess, I swear I'll make it up to you, but there's something we can't avoid any longer. However, you heard doctor’s orders: no stress, so one word and I'm getting you out of there.”

  Alice just smiled, knowing full well he was the one stressed out at the idea; they were on their way to see his parents.

  Chapter 9:

  Alice played it again.

  She hadn't watched it at first; while she’d grown wet at the idea that an anonymous video of Colt and her having sex was online somewhere, there for the world to see, she’d felt weird at the idea of actually watching it, but some day, a couple of weeks back, when she'd felt particularly hot under the collar, she'd given up and played the damn thing.

  It had her reaching for Bob and thrusting a finger in her rear end in thirty seconds flat.

  Shit. His cock was huge. And her ass was pretty damn sexy, too, thank you very much. The thousands of views and hundreds of likes attested to both.

  Earphones in, Alice stuffed the butt plug Colt had given her for Christmas in her ass before assaulting her vagina and clit. In vain.

  Why the ever loving fuck couldn't she come without Colt Bloody Colburn!

  •

  If there was one thing worse than platonically cohabiting with the woman you loved, it was cohabiting with the horny, pregnant woman you loved without fucking her brains out every time she needed a hard cock.

  Alice’s room was next door to his and he heard her as she masturbated with her vibrators.

  Every. Single. Night.

  Oh, and some days, too.

  Meanwhile, Colt was close to turning certifiably insane.

  Three months had passed since she’d moved in. They shared every meal, the TV remote, and the master bathroom. They’d seen their babies moving inside her for the first time, and he should have been able to kiss her and make love to her right then and there, but the damn doctor had said, pointedly looking at him, that she was to avoid any cause of potential stress.

  And while he would have loved to think otherwise, he knew he stressed her out, for better or for worse.

  That meant the ring he’d picked up on their way back from San Francisco stayed safely stashed in his drawer. That meant he listened to her going at it while her plastic cocks vibrated and the best he could to remain relatively sane was to wank along with her.

  But Colt was only human and Alice didn't stop tempting him.

  Monday, he’d found her making her bed, bent over the frame, that perky ass in the air.

  Tuesday, she’d grabbed a fruit from the bottom of the fridge while he was making coffee.

  Wednesday, he cracked.

  Alice came out of her room after yet another masturbating session, and she had the gall of seeming pissed off.

  “Colt, do you really have to leave that freaking toilet sit up?” she wined, her eyes narrowed at him.

  “Alice, do you have to moan so loud the neighbor bought earplugs?” he countered conversationally, without dragging his eyes up from his emails.

  Her jaw hit the f
loor.

  “You… You asshole! You did this to me! You got me pregnant, and pregnant women are fucking horny!”

  “Well, there you go. I have to live with your moaning, you have to deal with the fact that I am going to leave the toilet sit up in my fucking bathroom.”

  He knew he’d crossed the line when he heard how that sounded.

  He’d only meant that the master bathroom, attached to his bedroom, was technically part of his room, while hers had an adjoining shower on the left, but it might have seemed like he questioned her welcome in his home.

  By the time he’d made it off the sofa and to her room, she already had a case on the bed, and she was packing.

  Fuck.

  “Alice, don’t be dramatic. I just meant that’s my bathroom, is all. This is your home.”

  “This is yours, and I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

  Shit. How was he going to fix that?

  He went to the case and unpacked her shit as she threw it in.

  “Don’t be silly, princess. We’ve already talked about setting the nursery up in the third room.”

  “You can have a nursery in your third room; I’ll have one in mine, too.”

  She slapped his hand when he tried to take the bras she’d just thrown in the case.

  Alright. Enough was enough.

  He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, before taking her through his bathroom, and dropping her on his bed.

  “You’re not leaving,” he growled. “When you take your things out of that room, you’ll put them in mine.”

  He was so fucking tired of the pretenses and the games they played. They wanted each other. She liked him. He loved her. Fuck the rest of the universe.

  He shut her up the only way he knew how.

  Stubborn as she was, she wiggled a bit, and there were a few insults, but when his mouth came in contact with her pussy, all that came out of her lips was a wordless plea.

  Alice had changed since he’d last seen her from that angle. There was a bump on the stomach which had been flat, before. A soft wave of curly blond hair on the pussy which had been smooth – she’d obviously not believed she’d see any action.