WICKED GAMES | COMPLETE

NINE

Andie

Andie collapsed on her bed, exhausted from a day of prancing around pretending to be happy in that skimpy little leather getup.

Of course the guys at the event were all too happy to check her out, and a few of them even asked for her number, but she flat-out refused.

She sat up and studied herself in the mirror. What on earth was so appealing about this outfit anyway? The thin bralette top smooshed her boobs together unnaturally, and the boy shorts rode up so uncomfortably into her crack. The bottom of her buttcheeks peeked out as she paced in front of the mirror, and she blushed, not realising she was giving such a show.

She jumped, practising a few poses in the mirror, before rolling her eyes in disgust and hopping into the shower.

There was something different about one of those boys though. As she felt the warm water run down her neck and hug her body, she recalled his cool, green eyes, and the way his mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk beneath that stubble.

He acted like he owned the show. Like he owned the world. And that she was just a side character in his grand universe where he was obviously the big hero here to swoop in and save the day.

Ugh, what an asshole.

She remembered how smooth his voice was. If he wasn't such a jerk, she might have dropped her panties right then and there, just by the sound of that deep, sexy rumble. She wondered if he was some voice actor or singer, and kicked herself at not catching a glimpse at his lanyard before storming off.

He didn't even glance twice at this stupid costume, she grumbled to herself as she washed the soap off her body. And the last time I checked, I look hot and fuckable in it.

She dried off and popped on the TV when her phone went off. Evan's name screamed at her from the screen.

"Hey you," she answered.

"Hey Ands," he grunted beneath the clang of heavy metal.

She waited for him to finish his rep, but his breath continued to heave. Evan hardly lifted during their calls – it would take more than Herculean-level strength and focus to pull that off.

"What's up?" she asked. "You alright there?"

"Not really. I've been a little in my head."

"Tell me more."

He sighed – from the weights or the stress of something else, she could not tell. "I'm going out with Richard tomorrow evening. I need to be in top shape."

"I thought you said dating Richard was against company policy?" Andie wondered out loud.

"Honey, our whole life is against company policy. We just don't get caught in the act. Anyway, it's this whole forbidden thing that turns us on."

"Oh god, spare me." She grimaced. "So what's gotten you so bothered?"

"Being with this man is a lot of pressure. You heard what I said about the Franck Muller. Today he pointed out the logo on my Celiné Phantom."

"Yeah, the one you got in Paris?" She flicked through the TV channels. "What about it?"

"Well, my bitch Celiné decided to rename her whole ass brand into Celine. No accent on the 'e'. So now all of my Celinés are outdated."

Andie chuckled. She recoiled when Celiné changed her brand, but that wasn't the issue here. His black Phantom was his baby and he carried that thing with pride until he dropped another bomb on a Gucci Supreme tote the next year.

What kind of jerk would dull the shine on a man's leather like that?

"He sounds a little extra," she remarked.

"Maybe it's just me, though. He pushes me really hard at work and it makes me want to become a better person, you know?" His voice hovered, soft with hesitation.

"Not really, I don't." Andie didn't believe her friend. She doubted he even believed himself.

"No matter. Give me something else to think about, doll. How'd Kiko the Ninja Girl do today?"

"Ugh," she groaned. "If I have to be pawed by another sweaty gamer, I might just close my café from the trauma."

"Well, don't hate on us gamers. Maybe if you wore that outfit at your shop, you'd make a million in a year."

"Five million and I'll consider it," she retorted. "And you know very well you're not like those gamers. Don't even start."

They ended the call shortly after with a chuckle. Andie trained her eyes on the talk show that had come on TV, determined to forget about that douche and the mesmerising sound of his voice.