Playing for Real - Book 2

Chapter 22

Two can play this game.

"I'll see you later tonight, then." I reach inside his jacket, taking a moment to run my hand over the hard lines of his chest before pulling his phone from his inside pocket. I snap a picture of my cleavage. I can sense his amused smile without even looking up at his face. I slip his phone back into his pocket, turn, and walk away, feeling his eyes on my backside. "Have a good practice."

I hear Cash growl in frustration and close the door behind him. Two minutes later, my phone buzzes in my purse.

When I get home, I'm going to pin you to the wall and have my way with you and those fantastic tits. Think I can make you scream? Twice?

___________

After a quick shower, I slip into my comfiest pyjamas, light a bunch of candles, make a pot of tea, flop down on the sofa, and turn on the television. Bexley jumps up on the sofa beside me, tail wagging and licking my face. I pet her head to calm her down as she cozies beside me. Eventually, I find some Modern Family re-runs and drink my tea peacefully. Halfway into the episode, my phone buzzes with another text from Cash. I didn't respond to his first text on purpose. I know how much he hates/loves it when I tease him with my lady parts before he leaves the house.

You're in big trouble when I get home, Mittens ;)

It drives him crazy. He's probably desperate to finish practice. He will be all over me as soon as he walks through our door. Which, of course, I want badly.

I purposely don't respond again and take a sip of my tea with a smirk.

A hard knock at the door startles me, and Bexley goes crazy, barking. Could it be Cash? Did he ditch practice to come home and have his way with me? Obviously...who else it would be this late at night? A smile breaks on my face as I get up from the sofa and giddily half-skip, half-walk to the door.

"Hello," I say singly and pull open the front door. My smile quickly dissolves when a tall, thin shadow enters the foyer. I step back, my heart pounding. Her perky breasts, the same strawberry blonde hair . . . what the hell is she doing here?

"Daniela?" I lift my eyes to meet hers. The smile on my face disappears.

Her sopping wet hair is plastered to the side of her snide yet pretty face. She's wearing a black hooded sweater, dark-wash jeans, and Converse sneakers. Mascara streaks down her cheeks, and I'm unsure if it's from the rain or tears. She's breathing heavily as she stares me down. I can't breathe.

"Where's Cash?" She pushes past me into the foyer. She's furious and on a mission. Her barging into our home is not okay.

"He's not here." I spin around and grab her elbow, stopping her in mid-step. "Can I help you?"

"Quinn, right?" Daniela asks as if she didn't already know my name. "How does it feel knowing you're the reason my life is completely ruined?"

I try to keep my face impassive. "Daniela, I—"

"You what? You're a home-wrecking whore. And because you can't keep your legs closed, I'm going to be deported."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she says, and the hurt and betrayal flashing in her eyes cut into me like a dull blade. "D-E-P-O-R-T-E-D."

I fight a pang of uneasiness as we stare each other down. I don't like being alone with her in our empty house. I wish Cash were here. My phone is on the coffee table in the living room, and I don't want her taking another step into our home. She seems unhinged, but that isn't what's making me apprehensive. It's the intensity Daniela is radiating. It's like she will snap, and it worries me that she doesn't know how to contain herself.