Preston Goodplay Novels & Stories

The thought of enduring another night like that made my stomach twist. At least Grayson had come through, helping me get this job at a respectable restaurant. Most of my former 'connections' were vultures now, waiting for the next chance to worm their way into my pants with cheap promises. Grayson had been the rare exception—offering me a legitimate way to earn a paycheck without strings attached. I owed him for that. He was the closest thing I had to a friend, I could still remember his nickname back in high school—gay Gray.

Well, that was new, she’d give them that. “That’s what they’re calling you because of the amazing way you help companies convert leads into actual clients,” Ruth said with glee in her voice. “Frankly, I think it’s very catchy and creative. We may want to forward that to PR and see about making it a trademark.” At that, Callie had to chuckle. She was glad to see that her hard work had paid off, but maybe not in the way that she was expecting. Still, she tried to be happy about this victory. “Thank you, Ruth. You should add that to our calendar, so we don’t forget.”

“You’re so fucked up in the head, you know? Getting excited and turned on by this, giving yourself freely to a total stranger but guess what? I love unhinged girls like you.” “I'm not giving myself...” My words trailed into a yelp when he pinched my clit and I wasn't prepared for the intense pleasure that took over my entire body. “Yeah, that sound and tone. That's the only thing that leaves your mouth whenever we’re together.” He continued to play with my clit, continued to toy with it as if I were his plaything, each touch and pinch and stroke eliciting loud moans and gasps from me.

"Yeah, but you rake it in faster doing nothing. Just open your mouth and take it from our family. The future Leonhart heir spends more on a pet than that." "Shut up! Shiloh, what nonsense are you spouting? Explain it to Judy." I folded my arms, laughing. "Explain what? That we're getting a divorce so you two can play house? Or that you're not broke—yet—but give it a little time and you'll be out here recycling bottles for spare change?"

Carson whispered and winked while relaxing back on his chair. No doubt he was a player, he also didn't believe in love like people usually say. And most girls fall at his feet because he was handsome, rich, and hot. And there was another player of the year, his best friend, who is also his partner in crime. “Hey, what do you intend to do today? There is this new girl I saw at the club. Damn! She is fucking hot.” Owen praised, while demonstrating her figure with his hand, and Carson chuckled.

The limousine purred through the rain-slicked streets, its leather interior cocooning us in a bubble of tension. The city outside was a blur of neon and water, but inside, every second felt magnified. My heartbeat thudded against my ribs like a drum, reminding me that I was no longer a spectator in life. I was part of the game. And the game was dangerous. Adrian didn’t speak for the first ten minutes. He drove with a precision that was almost hypnotic, eyes sharp, jaw set. Every now and then, his fingers tapped the steering wheel, a metronome for the storm I could already feel brewing between us.