Broken play, p.14
Broken Play, page 14
“Fuck you, June.”
“Did you always like controlling, rough sex? Or was she your first? Was it her idea with you, too?”
The answer is all over his face. My stomach riots at the realization that Lorelai is the woman who introduced Drew to the type of sex that caused our marriage to erupt into so much chaos.
Without another word, he leaves.
I guess we’re done fighting it out.
I’m stunned when the door closes. Not only because he left so abruptly, but also at my outburst. Drew’s right. I’ve gotten mean. I’m not altogether sure it’s a bad thing.
What is glaringly bad is how I look. I take a look at myself in the mirror above the room’s dresser. Puffy, red eyes stare back at me. Makeup ruined, mascara streaking down my face. My hair is a disaster. Most of which a shower and redo will fix. Except for my swollen under-eyes. That’s going to take extra effort.
Leaving the room like this is no go.
Me: I need help. Bring ice.
Noah: On it.
Ten minutes later, he arrives, a bucket of ice in hand. He winces when I open the door.
“The fuck did he do to you?”
“Answered every question I asked,” I say dryly.
“Was it better not knowing?”
“No. Don’t get me wrong, this feels awful, but I needed to know.” I watch as he grabs a hand towel and fills it with ice.
“You’re one of those,” he says. “Lie down and put this on your eyes.”
“One of who?” I do as he says, grabbing the towel from his hands and moving to my bed.
“The type who needs all the gory details. It makes sense, it’s the journalist in you, probably. No guessing games with your type, just facts.”
“Fair point.”
He’s right, I see things without shades of gray. Black and white. Yes or no. Truth or lie.
Husband or enemy.
“Ugh,” I groan.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Noah asks from somewhere on the other side of the room.
“Our therapy session was rough. I told him I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him. He told me he didn’t think we should have gotten married.”
Noah makes a low oohing sound.
“She suggested we talk more about the whosits and whatyados of his infidelity. I asked him about Lorelai.”
I hear him open the mini-fridge, the clink of ice cubes plopping in a glass. He mumbles something about my nonsensical words, but whatever, I’m sure he understood enough. A moment later, a cool glass is in my hand.
“Maybe I asked too direct of questions. I threw up, Noah, that’s how awful it was,” I cry.
“Sit up, take a sip,” he tells me sternly. My eyes are blurry, but no more tears are spilling out when I remove the towel. I down my drink, enjoying the sting of the whiskey as it sears my throat.
“Mmm,” I moan at the small satisfaction.
“Stop doing that,” Noah says, his eyes dark. I swallow hard. I know Noah is attracted to me on some level. It’s easy to read his flirting. The heat currently directed at me is a new level. And his timing is awful. I feel like a flea clinging to life on a soaking wet dog.
“Um, I confronted him about what happened between you two. And her.”
“I can guess how that went,” he says while making his own drink.
“She’s beautiful. I guess I get it.”
Noah goes rigid.
“Stand up, June.” His tone compels me to comply. It’s a demand laced with arrogance that he knows I’ll follow. “Turn around.”
I jump with surprise when the swat lands on my ass. Quick and sharp.
“Lorelai has nothing on you. Lower yourself to her like that again and you won’t sit comfortably for days.”
Damn.
“You just spanked me,” I say, incredulous.
“You deserved it.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” he says smugly and takes another sip.
“What gives you the right?” My voice edges with a slight fear that Noah picks up on immediately. I didn’t mean for it to be there. I’m not afraid of Noah. Old habits and all that… I’m never easy in the presence of men. Noah has been an exception, never showing me anything that gave me unease. Until just now. I don’t like hands on me when I’m unprepared.
“I’m so sorry, June. You’re correct. I don’t have the right. And given what you’ve been through, it was horrifically careless of me. You never have to be afraid of me. I promise you that,” he says contritely while holding my gaze, and I believe him. “I hope you can forgive me for not gaining consent beforehand. Give it to me now so the next time you say stupid shit like that, I can correct it.”
“No.”
“What was that?”
“No?”
“Is that a question?”
“No?”
“Are you giving me permission to do it again when you misbehave?”
This is like the Twilight Zone. I don’t even know what’s happening. I want to say yes and because I want to say yes, I should say no. Right? While the unexpectedness of his swat was something I didn’t like, I can’t say I didn’t like the actual spanking itself.
I have no idea what that says about me.
“I thought you weren’t into this kind of thing?” I ask.
“I never said that.”
“But, Lorelai—”
“Was a mistake I made when I was inexperienced. That’s no longer the case. I sought the knowledge I lacked then, and like I do with everything worth doing, I perfected the craft.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Are you consenting, June?” A smirk grows on his stupid, pretty face.
“For you to punish me?”
“Not to punish. To correct a behavior.”
“That sounds like the same thing.” I narrow my eyes on him.
“You aren’t saying no,” he says with a smile.
My phone chimes with a notification. I use the opportunity to avoid confirming or denying.
Love: How is it going? Have you seen Drew yet?
Me: Saw him, it went terribly. I’ll explain when I’m back in NOLA with copious amounts of booze.
Me: Also, Noah just spanked me and wants permission to do it again.
Love: WHAT!?!?!
Me: Gotta go, dinner meeting. TTYL.
Love: JUNE!!!!
I set my phone down and turn back to Noah, who is casually leaning against the wall, watching me, humor on his face. This man sees right through me. I’m certain of it.
“Thank you,” I say with sincerity.
“For what?”
“The ice, the distraction, the apology, all of it. I appreciate it.” I smile and give him a small shrug. “And for the record, I believe Drew is completely wrong about you.”
“You’re welcome and thank you for giving me a chance. For trusting me when I know that can’t be easy for you. I know this is all an awkward position for you to be in. I’ll let you get ready now, but I’ll be back in a while to take you down to dinner.”
I lie down and place the ice towel back over my eyes. That turns out to be a horrible idea when I wake up from my nap in a small puddle of water.
Gross.
There are several texts from Leighton when I check the time on my phone.
Love: I cannot believe you are leaving me hanging like this.
Love: You are the worst best friend in the history of best friends.
Love: Please tell me he spanked you with his dick? And that it’s huge.
There is a text from Noah, too. A message with a link labeled ‘Boss Bitch’.
Noah: Play this when you get ready for dinner.
Clicking the link opens a girl power playlist to rival all girl power playlists that have come before. I push play, drop my phone on the bathroom counter, and start the shower as “Flawless” by Beyoncé fills the room.
An hour later, I’m applying the last layer of lipstick when Noah arrives to escort me to this dinner. It’s kind of a big to-do, I guess. It won’t just be network people there, but some higher-up execs and owners of the teams, local celebrities, retired players who may be in town for the game and their respective plus-ones. I’ll know plenty of people and even more will know who I am.
Drew McKenna’s wife. Or maybe even Drew McKenna’s jilted wife. What I need to be is June, an independent woman.
Noah shows up exactly when he said he would and carries a small shopping bag with him.
“What do you have there, Mr. Anders?” I ask when I move to the side to let him pass. He doesn’t immediately answer, opting for a silent trek to the far side of my room.
“Come here,” he calls gruffly, with his back still to me.
I move to stand next to him, wondering what this is all about.
“Noah?” I call when he doesn’t acknowledge my presence. He turns then, eyes traveling down my body. The slow seduction sends chills through my limbs and makes my nipples pucker under the slight fabric of my dress. It’s blush, just a shade darker than my skin. Thin spaghetti straps hold up a simple triangle bodice above a flared skirt that falls to just below my knees. Strappy black heels complete the look.
Since Noah is the one who set the ensemble for the night, he knows I only have a scrap of white lace underneath. The way he is looking at me, he remembers what he’s chosen. He doesn’t miss that my body is reacting to his perusal.
I don’t miss his notice. His lips part ever so slightly, and his breathing deepens. Following his lead, I let my sight fall down his form, taking in his perfectly tailored black suit that stresses his wide shoulders and fit form. He doesn’t move a muscle until my eyes stop where there is clear evidence of a large, hardening penis behind the fly of his pants.
Noah takes one quick step forward, his chest brushing against my nipples.
Holy mother of fucking God, he smells amazing.
How does such a light touch set my entire body alight? As if I could explode in orgasm just by him breathing on my breasts right now.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go, June.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking up at him. His gaze bores into mine.
“I was expecting another fun time with my new friend. Her name is Sweet June,” he says with a wink. “The woman standing in front of me right now, the one who called me Mr. Anders, making my cock twitch? Sweet isn’t the word I’d use to describe her.”
“What word would you use?” I say only after I swallow down the feelings clogging my throat.
Instead of answering, he reaches into the bag he brought with him and pulls out something made of leather. One hand reaches out and lifts my left arm, then slips the leathery strap over it. He repeats the action on the other arm before he moves behind me and sets to work on the dainty gold buckles.
It’s a body harness of some sort. The thin black straps crisscross over my chest to enhance my breasts, and another encircles my waist. After the task is completed, he comes back to stand in front of me and makes another path down my form with his blazing eyes.
“Fucking fire, June. You are the heat that will scorch every man in the room tonight and it’s my honor to be the one by your side.”
I blink several times. Noah is unexpected, always surprising me.
“Can I see it?” I ask him.
“Go look.” He nods to the mirror. I do as he says and take in the simple way he’s converted me from almost angelic to just shy of dirty, and I smile. The harness isn’t heavy or blatantly sexual. There are no garish O-rings, just buttery leather and discreet buckles. He’s made me look high fashion, not dungeon kink.
“Did you listen to your playlist?”
“I did. Thank you, Noah,” I say, turning to him. “You’re more than just a fashion demon. You’re like my very own fairy godfather.”
“Oh, fuck no, stop that train of thought right now before you get your second spanking of the day.”
“Promise?” I ask teasingly.
He reaches out to pinch my chin, gently tilting my face up to his.
“Be very careful what you say to me tonight, June. You’ve got me feeling very dangerous,” he says, rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip. “And I promised myself I was going to be good with you.” He lets go and sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking off the lipstick he took with it.
“We should get going, playboy,” I say.
“Mmhmm.” He walks toward the door, grabbing my clutch on his way. He holds his arm out for me and I take it, letting him lead me.
The dinner is exactly as stale and stuffy as you’d expect. We’ve been here for all of twenty minutes, and it already feels like a lifetime. I’ve got my phony face on, the one that says I’m always pleasant, I never speak out, I’m every public relations person’s dream to work with.
There have been plenty of looks tonight. For both me and Noah. Stares and rumors spreading through the large, garishly designed dining room like a virus. I’ve done a good job ignoring them, and any time I stutter at it, Noah is there, whispering some affirmation in my ear. Which, yeah, probably adds to the rumors, but oh well.
He has yet to leave my side, opting to guide me through the room, introducing me to people I don’t know, and allowing me to return the favor for him. We’re approaching a small group near the bar when my fingers tingle with nerves.
One man is a past teammate of Drew’s from college, Nathan Park. He and Drew were good buddies then and after they were both drafted to the same team. We spent a fair amount of time with him and his wife, Sarah. I like them. Nathan knows Lorelai, of course. He likely knows their history to an extent and the current situation. I don’t know if he’s spoken to Drew since our story broke, but it’s likely.
“Hi, Nathan,” I say, stepping up to the group. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey, June,” Nathan replies, stepping in to give me a quick hug. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you. Do you know Noah?” I ask, stepping back to make room for Noah to enter the conversation.
“I don’t think we ever met formally. Just on the field several times.” Nathan holds his hand out to shake and Noah accepts.
“Nice to meet you, Nathan.”
“Where’s Sarah tonight?” I ask.
“Home. She’s pregnant again and doesn't want to travel.”
“Congratulations,” I tell him genuinely. “Send her my love, will you?”
“Of course. How are you doing?”
“I’m great, staying busy, and happy to be starting something new.” I keep it vague, since it’s not his business, for one. Two, I don’t want to get into anything in this room with these people. The few other people standing around have taken notice of who Nathan is talking to and turn to us.
One man is an executive from ESPN and asks how we’re getting along with plans for our upcoming show. I see Nathan visibly ease when he realizes Noah and I are coworkers. Conversation flows and I try to enjoy myself more.
Eventually, I excuse myself, wanting to use the restroom before we sit down to dinner. I find the restroom down the hall from the ballroom and take care of all necessary business, plus put on a fresh coat of lip stain. As soon as I exit, I hear familiar voices. It’s easy since one of them is raised.
“Because I don’t trust you, Anders.”
“Whether or not you trust me is irrelevant.”
“Nothing about my wife is irrelevant,” Drew says. I quietly move closer to where they are arguing. They didn’t try very hard to find a private place, standing down a side hallway. Anyone visiting the restroom could overhear.
“Make your point, Drew. I have dinner to escort my lovely date to.”
“My point is this. If you hurt her, if you leave a single fucking mark on her, I will end you. Do you understand me?”
“Finally, something we can agree on. I wouldn’t dream of ever hurting June. Your wife is charming, kind, smart, funny as hell, and one of the most gorgeous creatures I’ve ever met. I would be lucky to have a chance with her. Any man would. She’s something you should have cherished, Drew, not tossed aside for a conniving lesser woman.”
My hand covers my beating heart. Hearing Noah speak of me like this does great things for my battered ego. It’s comforting to know someone sees the parts of me that are having a hard time shining through these days.
“I know exactly how special June is, you piece of shit. And I won’t let you manipulate her into believing that bullshit you fed her about Lorelai. I know what you did to her.”
“I know what I did to her, too,” Noah says, heat behind every word. “It’s not anything I ever denied, if you remember. I disputed how it happened. And it’s something I regret to this day. But make no mistake, Drew. I’m not that same stupid doe-eyed boy and I know exactly what I’m doing now. It’s unfortunate you don’t, nor do you truly know who you’re doing it with.”
“Lorelai has her issues, but she’s not a manipulator.”
“You’re a fucking fool if you believe that.”
I step around the corner then, sensing that their conversation is escalating to a level that soon will be out of control. They’re both too strongheaded to back down. Besides, I want Drew to know I heard him defend her.
“That’s enough,” I say, drawing their attention, my voice full of bitterness.
Drew stares at me. His jaw drops as he takes me in.
“Noah, could you please get me a glass of white wine? I’ll see you back at the table in just a moment.”
“Of course.” He places a hand on my shoulder, then lets it slide down my arm as he steps away. Noah takes his time retreating, perhaps not sure of the state of Drew’s temper. Or maybe he just wants to do some eavesdropping of his own.
“You have a game tomorrow. What are you doing here?” I ask my husband.
“I came to talk to Noah,” he answers almost dazedly. His hand reaches out, fingers curling around the leather straps that cross over my cleavage, pulling me toward him. “What the fuck do you think you’re wearing?”
“A harness.”
“Why?” His voice is a harsh whisper he has little control over.
“It was a gift, and it makes me feel sexy. It makes me feel confident and beautiful in a mysteriously edgy way.”
