Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four

TWENTY-FOUR

DEER

“ S avannah?”

“Yeah, the beautiful woman who seemed well acquainted with you.”

The words leave me easier now. Everything feels easier now. It doesn’t feel like there are a set of claws gripping onto my shoulders, crushing me in on myself and making me crack under the pressure. The Category Five hurricane in my stomach has also calmed down, and I’m no longer at risk of upchucking the entire contents of my digestive system.

Granted, there was a moment there when I really thought I might just pass out from the sheer panic of it all. But I’ve gotten pretty good at quelling my anxiety attacks in the last couple of weeks—nightmares aside.

My head is still spinning from the fact that my secret is no longer my own. I’m not alone anymore. Sure, Jackson is my fake boyfriend, my fake partner—but he is my partner, nonetheless. And it feels so fucking good to have someone in my corner who understands me.

I just hope I won’t regret it. Especially since my heart is becoming more and more invested as I remain in his orbit. There’s something comforting about him that makes me feel protected.

“I met her through the club.”

“You keep saying ‘club.’” I raise one of my hands in air quotes. “But you’re not really giving me much to go off.”

He lets out a barking laugh, running his hand through his long hair. His smile is uninhibited, one I’ve rarely seen, and Gods damn if it doesn’t make him look even more attractive.

“What?” My hackles rise, feeling like there’s some inside joke I’m not privy to. It’s the same feeling I got when I saw Jackson with Savannah.

“No, it’s just—” he leans back on his forearms, “let me start at the beginning.”

“That does tend to be the ideal place to begin.”

“The cocktail lounge you were at, do you know the name of it?”

I close my eyes, trying to recall what the sign outside said, but all I can see is the red door. I don’t even remember the bill I signed having any name on it.

That’s odd.

“No, I don’t.”

“The lounge is technically open to the public, but it mainly serves as a foyer and decompression zone from the actual club within. It also adds an extra layer of privacy for its clientele. Which is why, technically, it’s called The Foyer —it serves as a front if you ever need to search the address online.”

This is starting to sound kind of suspicious.

“But when you enter that red door in the back, you find yourself at the Cardinal Club.”

“Cardinal Club?”

“It’s a membership-only place.”

“What kind of membership?”

“The depraved kind.”

“It’s a sex club?” The words fall off my tongue before I can think of a better way to word them.

A crooked smile spreads across Jackson’s face, his eyes turning even darker than normal.

“For lack of a better term, yeah. But it’s also more than that. It’s also a discretionary place for any high roller to use. One of Parker’s friends turned me onto it after he heard about all the NDAs Sydney was dishing out to keep my sex life out of the press.”

“I see.”

My brain whirls, trying to slot all the pieces into place. What sort of person is Jackson behind those dark red doors? What side of himself did he show to those women?

My skin heats up as I imagine him in a dim room, removing each layer until just his muscular body was left on display.

Would he wear his hair loose or would he tie it up?

Jackson did say that I wouldn’t be able to handle what he’s into…is this what he was talking about? If it is, then he was totally wrong. Everything I’m hearing is pulling at my deepest fantasies.

And I want, no, I need to know more.

My lips part to ask, but I don’t know how to weave the words together without giving myself away.

Oh, fuck it. I’m not some pansy. And at this point, Jackson knows basically everything else about me. What’s a little more ammunition in his pocket?

“Is that all it is for you? A discretionary place?”

“No. They also help pair people up, depending on their tastes.”

“And what does your palate include?”

“Do you really want to know?” Jackson sits up, bringing himself closer.

“Yes.”

He continues to move closer until his hands come to rest on the top of my headboard, gripping the metal as he leans in. My breathing shallows, pulse racing through every inch of my body. Jackson’s cheek brushes mine, and I feel the ghost of his breath on my neck right below my ear.

“I love my women tied up. I like to take my time threading my ropes around their naked, wanting bodies. It’s calming, having them in the perfect little package for me to play with. I could edge you for hours, and you would just be squirming against my holds.”

My breath hitches, images of just that flashing through my mind.

He pulls back and smirks. “Is that what you would like, my dear Deer? Would you like to be completely at my mercy, tied up with those fuckable tits and pretty pussy on display for me to do whatever I want with? Would you like to submit yourself to me so I can fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

My core tightens, his dirty words turning my insides to liquid.

Jackson releases one of his arms from caging me in and presses his thumb against my lower lip, pushing it down. “Just think how pretty this mouth would look with a gag in it.”

I’ve tried many things before, even had a girl who used to love using handcuffs when we fucked, but never anything like what he is suggesting. I’ve definitely watched pornos with Shibari, but this would be experiencing it firsthand—and fuck me if he didn’t make me want that.

The idea of submitting to him, of giving him control, glows over my skin. My mind is always racing at a mile a minute, everything in my life is so highly curated. I would love to be able to just shut off and give my body over to him.

My thighs clench at the idea of him controlling me with those degrading words.

Fuck it.

I dip my head, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking hard.

Jackson’s eyes flash with surprise.

I grin. “Don’t tell me you’re all talk?”

“You better watch that mouth of yours.”

“I think you’d be pretty impressed with what this mouth can do.”

Then, without giving him time to back out, I surge forward, claiming his mouth with mine. His lips are softer than I imagined they would be, almost like a girl’s.

He doesn’t immediately kiss me back, and I suddenly worry that he actually was all talk.

Shit. Did I just screw this all up?

“Dammit, Deer,” he groans against me.

Jackson’s hand curls around the nape of my neck, pulling me toward him, deepening our kiss. My hands circle around his neck, and I kiss him like my life depends on it. Every breath I breathe gets lost in him, and I become dizzy, lost to the spell he seems to have me under.

My knees splay open, making room for Jackson to press himself closer. I slide farther down the headboard, almost horizontal on the mattress now. Jackson drops the arm that’s been clinging above us, but I still feel completely surrounded by him.

His tongue swipes against my lips, and I open up to let him in, allowing his taste to mingle with my own.

That free hand of his begins exploring, trailing down the side of my body. I feel the heat of his fingers through the thin fabric of my T-shirt. He reaches the edge, and I let out a moan as his hand dips underneath. His palm caresses my ribs, but there is no mistaking the feeling of his thumb skimming the bottom of my breast.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod like a damn bobblehead.

“Hell, Deer.” His hand comes up to squeeze my boob, and my back arches off the bed as I yearn for more. “I’ve dreamed about fucking these incredible tits.”

“You should try the real thing.”

He pulls back, grinning at me. “Such a dirty girl.” His fingers find my nipple, and he gives it a roll before pulling with just enough force to elicit a short gasp. “I wonder if you’ll make that same face when you’re full of my cock.”

I don’t know who I was fooling.

I should’ve known a man like Jackson could ruin me with just his words.

My ankles hook around the backs of his knees, and I use my arms to pull him back down to me, desperate for another taste. I lose myself to the tangle of our lips, letting everything else slip away until all that’s left is the feel of him.

I let one of my hands loose and rake my nails down his back, pressing the tips of my claws hard enough to elicit a deep groan from Jackson’s lips. His hips jerk forward in response, and my eyes pop open when I feel the hard press of his length.

He tries to pull back, but I lock my ankles tighter around his thighs. I feel his responding smirk as he whispers, “So greedy.” His hips buck again, and I let out a soft sigh as his length presses against my core.

Heat pools, and I want nothing more than a release from the pressure that has been building.

“More,” I moan.

Jackson kneads my breast and begins rocking his hips rhythmically against me as I squirm against him, desperate for pleasure. His lips trail down the side of my neck, peppering me with hot kisses down to my shoulder. His tongue slides across the length of my collarbone, and my pussy clenches at the sensation.

“More,” I beg, my voice all breathy. “Please.”

Jackson’s hand leaves my breast, and I let out a whine of protest until I feel it trail down my stomach, coming to a stop at the band of my shorts. My hand tangles in his hair as my hips lift off the bed, encouraging him to explore further.

“So hungry for me, aren’t you?” His hand slides over the fabric of my shorts and cups my center, two fingers pressing against my entrance. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.” His head dips, forehead resting on my chest as his fingers rub me through the fabric.

Holy hell.

I can feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and when he presses another biting kiss to my lips, I all but start grinding myself against him.

“Dammit, Deer.”

Jackson dips his hand beneath my waistband, and his fingers slip between my folds, gliding against the clear proof of how much I want him.

It feels so fucking good, but it’s not enough.

I shift my hips, pushing myself against him, chasing his touch.

Jackson leans back, and we stare at each other, chests heaving. He removes his hand from my pussy, and I’m about to complain until I see his lips curve up in a smirk, head tilting slightly.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

Lost in his eyes, I do exactly as he says.

He slips his fingers into my mouth. “Now suck. Taste how much your greedy pussy wants me. How much you want me.”

My lips close around his fingers, and my tongue presses up to suck as he slowly pulls back out. I taste myself on him, my salty need for him clear as day.

“That’s my girl, so obedient.”

I smile at the praise.

“Can you follow the rest of my instructions?”

I nod because words won’t work right now.

“Good.” He leans back on his knees, eyes raking over me like I’m a meal he is about to devour. “I want you to reach down and remove your underwear.” My hands scramble to lift the hem of my T-shirt before hooking into the band of my shorts. “Ah—just your underwear. Keep the shorts on.” I frown momentarily but do as he says, hooking my legs one at a time through the material.

I hold the pink satin in my hand, an obvious dark spot marring the center.

“Thank you.” He plucks the thong from my hand. “Now, I want you to go to sleep.”

I blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry, what?”

“And don’t think about touching yourself or making yourself come. I’ll know.” He pushes off the bed.

“Jackson.”

“I’m serious. You said you could follow my instructions, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I say slowly.

“Good.” The grin on his face is anything but kind as he watches me squirm on the sheets. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Sparkles. Thanks for the gift.” He holds the thong up in a salute before strolling out of my bedroom. I hear the front door click as he closes it behind him, but I don’t move, completely at a loss as to what the hell just happened.

I sit up, flushed and aching.

Fuck that.

There’s no way I’m about to just lie here and fall asleep.

I reach over into my bedside drawer and dig around until I find what I’m looking for. My hands close around the rose suction device, and I fumble to turn it on.

A quiet buzzing fills the room, and I quickly peel off my shorts, throwing them across the room before bringing the device to my clit. The relief is immediate, and I quickly increase the speed of the vibrating suction, my thighs quivering with each second that passes. It takes no time before I feel my orgasm crest. I squeeze my eyes shut, images of Jackson burning themselves on the backs of my eyelids.

A pang of guilt spears itself in my stomach at the knowledge that I’m defying his command. This inherent need to follow his rules and heed the submission brands itself on my skin.

“Fuck,” I groan, pulling the toy away.

The wave falls, my orgasm sinking back. I shut the damn thing off and throw that across the room as well. My thighs clench together as I roll over in the sheets, groaning again.

He is going to pay for this.