Revenge Era (The Revenge Games Book 1)

DRESS

“This look okay?” I spin in the mirror and tug at the hem of the sparkly rose gold number that hits high on my thigh. I’m pretty sure I’ve got more skin on display than what’s covered under this thing, but it’s New Year’s Eve. Isn’t that what tonight is for?

Short dresses, flirty smiles, bad decisions.

Hmm, sounds like a good song.

“You look like porn on a stick,” Mel says with a shimmy of her hips.

“I have no idea what that means.” But I giggle anyway.

Mel hovers close behind me and squeezes my shoulder. “Proud of you,” she says, locking eyes with me in the mirror.

Our show went off without a hitch, and then Ford’s friends invited us to a swanky private party.

“Hockey players in suits,” Mel crooned on our way back to the suite to get ready. “My lady bits are going to have so much fun tonight!”

With a swipe of my signature red lipstick, I smile. “Operation Revenge is in full swing.”

“Oh yes! We should take a pic and post it. Show Paul you’re moving on.”

“Eh, fuck him, honestly. Tonight is for me. I’m getting revenge on myself. I’m tired of being the woman who gets walked on.”

“No, you’re getting revenge on them. On all the men who were stupid enough to take you for granted. We’re gonna dance on their graves!”

That doesn’t sound quite right, but she’s just crazy enough that it makes sense.

It’s been years since I had the ability to blend in with the crowd. Throw Mel into the mix, and there’s no point in trying. But an event like this is the exception. Hockey players are used to attention, often having women throw themselves at them and grown men beg for their signatures, so the majority of them don’t bombard us. With the exception of the younger guys and their dates. They’re still a bit green.

We’ve only made it two steps toward the bar when the first guy offers to buy us a drink.

Mel looks him up and down appreciatively and nods. He’s tall, not shocking, muscular, also not shocking, and sporting a black eye.

“Looks like he can handle himself,” Mel chirps as he guides us to the bar.

“Or maybe he walked into a coat rack?” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ruin it for me.”

“What would you like?” Mr. Tall, Muscular, and Battered asks us.

Over his shoulder, I spot Ford. He’s at the other end of the bar, and he’s changed out of the Henley from earlier. Now he’s decked out in a black suit that tugs across his back and leaves his ass looking biteable. Yes, every man in this room has an incredible body, but they’re all boys in comparison to him. The way he carries himself, his cool confidence, makes it tempting to reply to this guy with something like “Him. That’s what I like.” Of course, I’d never be so bold. So instead, I say, “A vodka soda, please.”

When we’ve got our drinks in hand, our new friend diverts all his attention to Mel again. Not that I blame him since my focus is not up for grabs. Ford Hall commands every ounce of it. As I take a sip and search for an excuse to approach him, another woman beats me to it.

Lisa. His number two.

She’s got long red hair, beautiful violet eyes, and a beauty mark above her lip that is fucking tantalizing.

She’s drop-dead gorgeous, with amazing curves and a set of tits that have every person she passes noticing. She looks like Jessica Rabbit, and from the looks of things, she’s set her sights on Ford.

A twinge of jealousy so acute I can’t help but rub at it settles itself between my ribs. The pain blossoms into a stabbing sensation when she grips Ford’s arm and leans in to whisper in his ear.

When he drops his head back and laughs, I bite my lip to hold back my groan of annoyance.

I shouldn’t be looking at my ex’s father this way.

I shouldn’t be looking at the head of my label this way.

For my entire life, I’ve done the right thing. Not once have I let myself think about a person in a position of power the way I am now. Not because I think he’d take advantage of me. But because people would assume I got where I am by sleeping with a man like him.

I didn’t work this hard to give the world even an inkling of doubt about how I got here.

But God, when his eyes cut in my direction and his entire demeanor shifts, like he’s stunned to see me, my damn heart flutters right out of my chest.

Maybe I shouldn’t give a damn what people think.

Jessica—a.k.a. Lisa, a.k.a. the bane of my existence—tugs on Ford’s jacket and takes a step closer. He watches me for one more beat, though he doesn’t acknowledge me with even a nod or a smile. Then he’s tearing his gaze back toward the bar.

And away from me.

“Want a shot?” Mel pushes one forward without waiting for my reply.

Without hesitation, I toss the golden liquid back and slam the shot glass onto the bar. And when another hockey player approaches and asks if I want to dance, I also don’t hesitate.

“I’m Camden,” he says as he leads me toward the space where bodies are grinding against one another.

With the lights dimmed, the city sparkles through the expansive windows. On the other side of the dance floor, a DJ dances along with the upbeat music he’s mixing.

“Lake,” I reply.

The blond chuckles. “Yes, I’m aware.”

His palm finds my lower back, and he presses me close as soon as we hit the dance floor. The man doesn’t exude an ounce of shyness as he grinds against me.

One song turns into two, and before the third begins, Mel appears with another shot and a fresh vodka soda. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I lose myself in my surroundings. I feel like I’m part of something. I’m entertained, rather than being the entertainment.

Hot and in need of a break, Mel and I promise we’ll return, then sneak off to the bar, positioning ourselves outside the fray.

“You going to test drive that hockey player’s stick?” Mel wiggles her shoulders and smiles.

With a lift of one shoulder, I check out Camden, who’s also stepped off the dance floor and is chatting with a few other players. “Maybe. I mean, why not?” For once I’m not worrying about the consequences. Tonight is about having fun.

Mel jumps in place and grasps my forearm. “Gotta pee. You want to come?”

I shake my head. “It’s almost midnight. Don’t be gone too long.”

“Oh, please. You’ll be sucking face with lover boy over there by the time I come back.” She points to Camden, who is now walking toward me, all swagger and sex.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I spin to the bar and order another drink. I’m not ready for good ole sex eyes yet. On the opposite end of the bar, Ford is still standing with his friends. They’re surrounded by a few women who keep inching closer. One of them being Lisa.

I always liked her.

Tonight, I want to claw her eyes out.

I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess, because I can’t help but peek over at the group again. This time, though, the man I can’t stop thinking about meets my eye and holds my attention. I snag the drink the bartender slides across the bar and hold it up in a salute of sorts.

His face breaks out in a surprised smile. “Having fun?” he mouths.

I shoot him a crooked smile and dip my head in affirmation.

He pulls up straighter and shifts his body, like he’s about to shoulder past his friends and maybe utter an excuse me, but my focus is pulled away from him when an overheated palm lands on my ass.

“Get me one?” Camden murmurs into my ear before nuzzling into my neck. He’s sweaty from dancing, though he smells delicious, but my mind is still on Ford. I attempt to shift out of his embrace so that I don’t lose sight of the object of my obsession, but when I look up, expecting to see Ford walking toward me, I realize he never moved from his spot.

Disappointment settles like a rock in my stomach. Dammit. Apparently I’ve developed a rather annoying crush on my ex’s father.

I motion to the bartender for Camden, and once we both have our drinks, I lead him back to the dance floor.

Mel appears five minutes before midnight and joins us. We get lost in dancing again. Bodies sway, music taking over. When Camden leans in, it’s obvious he’s about to kiss me. The idea of his lips against mine feels heavy, like if I let him, it will weigh me down for far longer than just tonight. Avoiding the contact, I spin and grind my ass against him. His hands are everywhere, sliding over my hips, along my ribs, under my breasts. But then I’m pulled forward, out of his grasp.

“What the hell?” he yells.

I blink twice, sure that I’m seeing things. Shocked that the man looming over me is the one I’ve been desperate for all night.

Ford’s jaw is clenched and his hair is mussed like he’s been pulling at it. I like to imagine I had something to do with that.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as he grasps my waist with both hands and pulls me closer to him—and farther from Camden’s grip.

“Get lost,” he says over my head.

I should turn around. I should at least apologize to the man I’ve spent the last hour dancing with. Flirting with. Letting believe he had a shot.

But I don’t.

There’s only one person whose attention I’ve wanted, and now that I have it, I’m not giving up even a second of it.

“I said, what are you doing?” This time my voice is louder, my stare challenging, eyebrow arched, lips pulled together, waiting for him to finally make his damn move.

Ford’s thumb ever so gently rubs back and forth against my ass. It’s barely noticeable in the dark. Imperceptible really, but the simple caress sets my skin ablaze.

“What are you doing?” He crowds me, his head tilted low. His tone is a warning. It’s dark and a bit angry, in complete contrast to the way he’s holding me. The way he’s touching me.

“I was trying to get revenge. Ya know, a little New Year’s Eve fun? Maybe fuck someone in public. Show the world that I’m over your son and his cheating ways.”

Ford’s jaw ticks and his chest heaves so violently it presses against mine with each inhale, but he doesn’t say a word. Goading him is probably a bad idea, and I definitely shouldn’t say what I’m thinking, but my lips don’t seem to get the memo. “If I really want revenge, though, maybe I should just fuck his dad.”