Playing To Win Read Online Novels & Stories

Leah made a u-turn around the convenience store to the filling station in front of it. Both parties were silent; Leah discreetly watched John in her peripherals while she shut off the air conditioning and rolled down her window to light a menthol cig. He was in search of something. His gaze was elsewhere out the window. Instead, he looked uneasy, probably looking for the nearest toilet. Leah smiled to herself; her instincts could be right. John downed 16ounces of water in two sittings; his bladder would be filled by now.

When he swayed a tiny fraction towards her, she knew she had him. A slow tilt and she was sliding her palms over his rock-hard abs and up his chest. She registered the fierce pounding of his heart echoing hers ...Felt and reveled in it. A deep shudder powered through him. "What the hell are you doing, Chloe?" he rasped, but he didn't try to move or push her away. "Dare," She breathed as she stood on tiptoe and let her lips brush the skin beneath his earlobe. "You're still playing the game wrong." His voice was a night-dark rumble, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he was stopping himself from reaching for her. That glimpse of power over him spurred Chloe on.

After… the game will begin. And I will not play to win. I will play to destroy.

Looking at our tiles, it doesn't look like we would win because we have an X and a Q, and there isn't anywhere else to put them. They played their last game and we played ours. They won. With a margin of two. Fair game, we could have won, but we weren't beaten by a large margin. Jo and I high-fived ourselves, despite our loss, we're in good spirits. It's now one to one and the next game will determine if we will win this or not. I want to win, not just for Jo, but for the satisfaction of beating Rose at something, so I can use it to gloat later.

(eg when Damon speaks, the format will be as this: Damon ~ “Evening Amber.” Let me know what you think, of Gamble With My Heart. Gamble With My Heart is a winner in the Chapters Interactive Stories Writing Contest in 2020. Happy reading, Tatum Whispers ************************* Whatever you think might be real. It is not. Only a fool believes foolish things. You are only as good as the game that you play. And right now, the game is on you. For every single thing that you have ever done to another woman has just come back to you. Karma is a bïtch, and you have been bitten.

The parts change so the match advances onward. And I will win.

“You handle the… inventory relocation. I’ll handle making sure the right people are looking in the right direction when it’s time.” He raised his wine glass. A silent, sinister toast. I didn’t click mine against it. I just held his gaze, a silent promise passing between us in the quiet, expensive restaurant. The game was on. It was time to play dirty and make sure Eloise was fired without any hope of getting her hired anywhere else.

Queens in a chess game where men thought themselves kings. Amira sipped the champagne a waiter placed in her hand, letting her eyes sweep the room. Every interaction was laced with double meaning. A touch on the arm, a whispered word, a glance held too long. Alliances and betrayals danced in the air, hidden beneath the guise of polite society. Montez placed a hand on her back, guiding her deeper into the crowd. His touch burned through the silk, possessive and unyielding. She stiffened, whispering sharply, “Don’t touch me.”

When Yvonne saw that the situation could no longer be salvaged, she let go of Naomi and chased after us. From far away, I heard Naomi screeching, along with the chaotic sounds of a brawl. “What do you plan to do next?” Wendy suddenly asked me when we were downstairs. “First, have a personal account. The company is great at making people popular. Since Claude is trending online this time, I’m sure that he will be able to start over soon,” Yvonne answered for me. She sounded completely full of herself. “I’ve never seen your company make anyone truly popular. The only pair that is worth any mention… Heh.” Wendy laughed without finishing her sentence and handed a business card to me.

“Because I pay attention. Junior. Journalism major. He works at The Meeting Point. Try talking to people sometime.” I force a laugh. “It was a hookup. That’s all. One and done. Conditioning. Tyson’s the endgame.” Dylan grins. “So, Tyson’s the championship trophy, and Maxime’s the pregame warm-up?” “Exactly.” Except it’s not. Except I can still feel Maxime’s nails in my skin, hear his moan echoing in my ears. “Tyson’s the win.” But it’s a lie. And I know it. The dorm is too quiet that night, the walls closing in. My body’s exhausted, but my brain won’t shut up.