Confessions of a Bad Boy Gamer Page 3

  “Please, Nate,” she says, wiggling beneath me. “You’re killing me.”

  “You want my cock inside? Fucking you hard?”

  “Yes. I want to feel you, all of you.”

  “Still scared I won’t fit?”

  “No,” she says, tossing her head from side to side, a woman in need. And dammit, I’m the guy who’s going to give her everything she needs and then some.

  I push into her, a long, slow seduction that seems to be driving her delirious with need. Me too, but I don’t want to rush things. I want this perfect for her. Raelynn deserves perfect.

  “Please…” she begs, her breath hot on my cheek.

  “Is this what you want?” I power forward and give her every inch of me. She claws at my back, her body opening, taking all of me.

  “That is perfect,” she cries out.

  “Yeah, perfect,” I agree, and pull out. When I slide in again, seat myself high inside her, she moans and wraps her legs around me. She squeezes her thighs, locking me in tight, and it takes a second for me to remember how to breathe.

  She moves her hips, and I move inside her, thrusting, filling her to the hilt, only to pull out and fill her again. She meets and welcomes my thrusts like we’ve been doing this for a lifetime.

  “You feel so good,” I say, and bury my mouth in the crook of her neck. I kiss her and pound into her. I want to go slow, I try to go slow, but Jesus fuck, my cock is so snug, her hot pussy so wet and welcoming, I’m losing my shit.

  “Fuck me, Nate,” she whispers, as heat burns through my blood. “Harder.”

  I pound, reach a frenzied pace, and gasp for air as her sex tightens around me.

  “Yes,” she whimpers, and as soon as I feel her soaking-wet heat on my cock, the world shuts down around me, the only thing existing is this woman, the feel of her body beneath mine.

  I throw my head back and let go high inside her. My cock pulses, throbs as I deplete myself.

  “I feel you,” she murmurs.

  “Feel you too.” My lips close over hers, and our tongues dance. We kiss for a long time, until my cock grows flaccid inside her. I slide out and she makes an ooh sound. It brings a smile to my face.

  “Nate, that was…I just, wow…I’ve never…” Once again she lets her words fall off, and I get the sense that she’s hiding so much from me.

  “You never orgasmed before,” I say.

  “No, I have…just not with…”

  “A guy,” I say, finishing her sentence for her.

  “Yeah.”

  Two things hit me at once. Pride that I’m the first man to bring her to orgasm, and anger that no man had treated her the way she deserves. But then suddenly thinking of her with another man sits in my gut like a lump of oatmeal. Jesus, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

  I discard the condom, pull her to me, and rest her head against my chest. “Sleep,” I say. “I plan to do this a dozen more times until morning.”

  Will a dozen times even be enough to sate me when it comes to her? I get that she’s pretending to be her sister, and this is supposed to be a one-night thing, but after a taste of her, I’m not ready for this thing to end.

  So what the fuck am I going to do about that?

  3

  Raelynn

  OMFG…

  I can’t believe I slept with a total stranger. Then snuck out under the cover of darkness as he slept—wearing the T-shirt he’d tugged off and dropped to the floor, nonetheless.

  Taking his shirt might have been wrong—and uh, really, had nothing to do with me wanting a souvenir— but I couldn’t very well wear my blouse, not after he tore all the buttons. A fine shiver moves through me as I remember his heated gaze when he ripped into my shirt. Jesus, that was hot.

  As I sit in my bed, morning light flooding my room and reminding me it’s Monday morning and I need to get to work, my gaze goes to the blue shirt draped over my makeup table chair. It sits there like a guilty secret, one I can’t bring myself to wash—can’t stop touching and sniffing every time I pass by. It still holds Nate’s scent, even after three days.

  Stop thinking about him, already.

  I make two fists and press them to my forehead, as if that will somehow erase him from my mind. Even if I could expel him from my thoughts, every time I move my aching body it reminds me of all the glorious ways he pleasured me with his hands, tongue…cock. God, that man touched me in places I didn’t even know existed. When he said he was going to fuck me so good, I’d still feel him next week, he wasn’t kidding.

  My, how I love a man with confidence.

  Now, when he goes back to wherever he came from, he can tell his friends he slept with the infamous Saralynn.

  A knot settles in my stomach at that last thought. Shit, it shouldn’t bug me so much that he thought I was my sister. After all, I was the one who led him on, told him I was Saralynn, for God’s sake. But there is a small, silly part of me that wishes he knew it was me, Raelynn Walker, he was really with. That it was my body that fit so well with his.

  God, what am I even thinking? It was a one-night thing, and I’m never going to set eyes on him again, and I need to stop acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Even if I did have a crush on him—which I don’t—he’s just passing through town. Besides, guys like him go for girls like Saralynn. I just blend into the woodwork and always get overlooked. The men who’ve shown interest in the past were only doing it to get close to my flamboyant sister. The real reason I gave up looking for love.

  I kick off the covers, my mood souring as I jump in the shower. I need to get moving, and get my mind off Nate—whatever his last name is—once and for all. After a good thorough washing, scrubbing away the last traces of Nate from my skin—if only it was that easy to scrub him from my brain—I dress, grab a muffin and a big hat, and make my way outside.

  The office where I’m working is a good half-hour walk, and the weather is nice, so I decide to go on foot and get some fresh air. I just pray the big hat obscures my identity and I don’t get accosted again. Hopefully the commotion will all die down when Saralynn leaves Baltimore, and the media reports sightings of her in some other town.

  I keep my head lowered, let my hair fall forward to mask my face as I walk down the street. Thirty minutes later, I pull open the door to the big corporation where I’m teaching work/life balance. I became interested in mental health during my freshman year at Yale, and one of the girls on my floor committed suicide. After taking a psycology course, I decided to major in it, and went on to become a counselor so I could help others. Now, not only do I run my own business, I’m in high demand in corporate American, where I meet with individuals and teach them strategies to balance their lives.

  If only I took my own advice…

  I can’t even remember the last time I had a date, or worked on improving my personal life. Well, technically Friday was a date, right? And I have to say, if I could have more of that, I’d go from being a workaholic to a sexaholic.

  Yeah, it was that good.

  I greet Cynthia at the front desk, then take the elevator to the tenth floor. I walk down the hall and make my way to my office. This morning is full with individual meetings, then I’ll be giving a yoga class at lunch. I step into my office, and instantly have the strangest feeling that I’m being watched.

  Good God, don’t tell me someone here thinks I’m Saralynn. The staff all know who I am by now, right? I’ve been working with them for months.

  I turn, but the only person I see is Wendy, who’s coming my way for her nine o’clock appointment.

  I shake my head to clear it and greet Wendy when she comes in. The rest of the morning passes quickly and by the time lunch rolls around, I’m ready for some yoga stretches.

  Yoga gear in hand, I hurry to the bathroom to change, then step into one of the boardrooms that had been turned into a yoga studio during my time here. Staff begin to trickle in and I plug in my iPod to play soft, relaxing music.

  When I stand up a
gain and turn to face the class, the man who starred in my real-life fantasy three nights ago is standing before me.

  Holy God! Air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my legs nearly go out from underneath me.

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening. I briefly pinch my eyes close, and when I open them again, Nate is still standing there, showcasing that ridiculously sexy dimple as he smiles at me.

  Oh, God, it is happening.

  “Hi,” he says, as the needy juncture between my legs leaps to attention, eager for date three and all that comes with it.

  Wait!

  Jesus, he doesn’t know it was me he slept with, right? Then again, how would he know Saralynn has a twin? He probably thinks I’m her. But he has to be wondering why I’d be teaching yoga to the staff at Data Solutions. Could this be any more screwed up?

  “Hi,” I say back, and hold my hand out, suddenly mortified with this whole situation. I never thought I’d set eyes on him again, yet here he is, in the flesh. “I’m Raelynn Walker. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  His blue eyes go steely as he looks at me. “I’m Nate Daniels,” he says, and stands there looking at me like he’s waiting for a light bulb to go off.

  Nate Daniels.

  I rack my brain. Why does that name sound so familiar?

  Oh, because I went to high school with a really nice boy named Nathanial Daniels, and I have the feeling that I’m staring at him right now. “Did we…”

  “Yeah, we did,” he says, and my heart crashes against my chest.

  Oh, God, what exactly is he saying we did? Sleep together, or go to high school together.

  “Fillmore High. We were in a few classes together, Rae, remember?”

  I stand there dumfounded. Part of me is happy that he doesn’t think I’m the girl he slept with the other night—because how embarrassing, right?—but there is another part of me that’s totally freaking out that he doesn’t.

  What kind of stupid mess have I gotten myself into? I have no idea, but one thing is for sure, no way can I sleep with him again. Not after he slept with my…sister.

  Kill me. Fucking. Now.

  “Yeah, I remember.” I stare at him, in much the same manner as every other woman in the room. He’s tall and broad and inked and handsome. “You just changed, a lot.”

  “You haven’t,” he says, his sexy voice dropping an octave, reminding me of our night together, and the way he talked when he was inside me.

  “And you went by Nathaniel.”

  “You went by Rae.”

  “I use my full name now.” I glance around the room. “What are you doing here?” God, what a stupid question. He obviously has business with Data Solutions.

  “I just transferred back. I was out in California for a while.” He winks at me. “I’m still a tech geek. I love to code,” he says and wiggles his fingers.

  A tech geek who’s so very good with those fingers. My brain takes that moment to relive our night and I flush. I’ve no doubt that my cheeks are scarlet. As he stands close, close enough that I can smell his enticing male scent, I rack my brain, searching for something intelligent to say.

  “Well, welcome back,” I say, surprised I can even find my voice. “Are you joining us?”

  Sexy dimple materializes when he says, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  He steps to the back of the class, where a few of the other men are standing, and lifts his arms above his head to stretch.

  I try not to stare. I really do, but how the hell can I not? His T-shirt does little to hide a hard abdomen, and his khaki shorts hug him so nicely.

  I’m never going to make it.

  I work to pull myself together, then turn my attention to the others to begin. I go through the moves for the next half hour, every now and then stealing a glance at Nate, who is pretty damn limber.

  But I already knew that.

  When the class finally ends, I unplug my iPod and I’m about to hightail it out of there, when I turn and bump into an immovable brick wall.

  Nate.

  “Have you had lunch?” he asks.

  “No, I’m about to grab it now.”

  “Same.” I make a move to go, but he puts his hand on my arm, in much the same way he did at Pat’s when he asked me to have dinner with him. “Want to join me? I don’t know many people here.”

  “Ah…no. Thanks, but I usually eat at my desk.”

  “Too bad. I’m heading to Pat’s Pub. They serve up the best desserts.”

  4

  Nate

  Okay, now this is getting interesting. Here I thought she’d come clean, tell me what she was up to the other night, but no, now she’s being Rae, pretending it wasn’t her at the hotel and it never happened. It’s all rather confusing, considering I’m an honest guy, and have been open with her from the start. Yeah, it’s true, I didn’t tell her I knew who she was, only because it was clear she was up to something, and I wanted to let her play the night out the way she needed to.

  Does she really think I don’t know?

  I’m not sure, but one thing is for certain, I plan to show sweet, innocent Rae that it’s her I want in my bed, not her sister.

  I step outside for a breath of fresh air, and make my way to Pat’s for a sandwich and coffee. Sadly, there will be no dessert afterward. I place my order and push back in my seat, my thoughts totally preoccupied with Rae. A short while later, I glance around. That’s when I spot Janice from Human Resources. I gesture to the waitress that I’m switching seats and walk over to her.

  “Hey, Janice,” I say, “Want some company?”

  “Sure, sit.”

  She pushes the chair out with her foot, and I drop down into it just as the waitress delivers my food. Janice is a sweet girl. She’s fairly new to the organization and my guess is that she’s a recent graduate. The engagement ring on her finger glistens in the light shining in through the window.

  “When’s the big day?” I ask, and take a bite of my turkey on Rye.

  A smile lights up her face. “We’re having a fall wedding down south.”

  “A destination wedding.” I nod, and envision her barefoot on the beach getting married. It suits her. “That’s nice.”

  “You think?”

  “Sure. Who doesn’t want to get married on a beach, right?”

  “Do you?” she asks over the rim of her coffee cup before taking a sip.

  Jesus, I hadn’t thought about it. In fact, I’d never given marriage much consideration at all. I’d been with lots of women, sure. I mean, in college I had to make up for my dateless years in high school. But I’ve never liked a girl enough to consider marriage. What kind of wedding would Rae like, beachside or formal?

  Wait, why did my thoughts even go in that direction?

  “I…uh…” I say, and she laughs.

  “Commitment phobic?” she asks.

  I don’t really think I am, but since I’ve just entered the second half of my twenties and I’m still single, maybe she’s onto something. Maybe I do have commitment issues.

  Or maybe it’s because none of those girls were Rae.

  Oh fuck.

  “I’ve just been busy working.”

  “Ah, well, you need to stop and smell the roses, Nate.” She leans forward. “There’s more to life than work. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  Last Friday I played.

  “Yeah, I guess.” My mind rewinds to when I had Rae underneath me. I certainly wasn’t thinking about coding then.

  “You should make an appointment with Raelynn Walker. We hired her a few months ago on contract. She’s working with the employees and teaching them how to have better work/life balance.

  As soon as the words leave her mouth, a dirty, delicious idea forms.

  “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. How do I make an appointment?”

  “Hang on.” She opens her tablet and pulls up some schedule. “Hmm,” she says. “She’s fully booked for today, but I can squeeze you in for he
r last appointment of the day tomorrow.”

  “Book it,” I say, and go back to finishing my lunch.

  When we’re done, we head back to work, and I walk into my office, put my earbuds in, and listen to music as I dive into my latest project. By the time I lift my head again, people are filing out, calling it a day. As the lead programmer, I have strange hours. Sometimes I can work all night, and other times, when I’m not elbow deep in a project, I can come in late and leave early. It’s a pretty sweet gig. As I watch everyone leave, my thoughts drift to Rae.

  Has she left the building?

  I push from my desk and make my way down the hall. When I reach her office, I note that her privacy blinds are pulled, but her door is cracked. Her door likely wouldn’t be cracked if she had an employee inside. I listen for a few moments, then peer inside to find her standing by her window, staring out. With her back to me, I can’t see her expression, but there’s something longing, wistful in her stance, the way her head is cocked.

  I knock and she turns around, the smile on her face faltering slightly when she sees it’s me.

  “Nate,” she says, casual politeness. “How are you?”

  “Stressed,” I say.

  She frowns and looks at her open laptop. “I see you have an appointment with me tomorrow.”

  “Last of the day,” I say. “I hope I don’t end up keeping you too late.”

  She pushes away from the window, and I can’t help but stare. She is so goddamn beautiful, it’s hard to be in the same room without staring, touching.

  “It’s fine.” She glances at her watch. “Are you finished for the day?”

  “Heading home. Well, technically not home. I’m staying at the hotel around the corner until my furniture arrives,” I say gauging her reaction as I give her an opportunity to come clean.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I was going to hop on my bike and take a drive around town, you know, for old times’ sake.”

  “That’s a great way to de-stress.”