A Powers Play Read online

  Dear Reader,

  First of all, thank you for buying A Powers Play (The Powers That Be, Book 1.5) to take a peek into Scout and Gable’s life together!

  Secondly, I greatly appreciate your purchase because by buying this book, you’re supporting The Fisher Center for Alzheimer’s Research Foundation. Dementia and Alzheimer’s are brutal diseases. I watched my very brilliant mom go from knowing everything in the whole, wide world—okay, that’s an exaggeration, but believe me, she was smart—to not even knowing her own name. It was devastating to my entire family watching her grow progressively worse in such a short time, and the heartbreak of losing her in April of 2017 to this debilitating disease will be with us forever.

  We love and miss you, Mom. Tu me manques…

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Gable (The Powers That Be, Book 1)

  Chapter 1

  “Holy wow,” I muttered, watching the ring girl walking around, well, the ring. She was the fourth one I’d observed, and each of them looked as if they’d been sprouted from the same ultra-gorgeous-kickass-look-at-me-and-my-perfect-body-genetically-altered strand of DNA that may very well have been created by a mad scientist—with a penchant for hot chicks—in a supermodel laboratory that was probably hidden somewhere underground in Area 51.

  “What?” Gable asked, looking down at me as I stared at the teeny-tiny-bikini-laden woman.

  I pointed toward her and he followed my finger before looking back at me. “It’s like Monica Belucci and Brigitte Bardot had a baby then the sexiest parts of them were harvested and glued together to make the perfect woman. Then she was upgraded and cloned.”

  Gable chuckled, leaning down and kissing the side of my head. “Baby, they’ve got nothing on you.”

  I huffed out a laugh because that was the dumbest statement ever. “They’re beautiful,” I mumbled in awe.

  He looked back at the girl and made an “Ehh” face. Then putting an arm behind me, resting it on my seat back, he curled his hand around my shoulder and tugged me closer, his mouth at my ear and remarked, “Babe. You are the hottest chick here. Fuck, you’re the hottest chick within a twenty-five-mile radius of here.” He kissed the side of my head again and pulled back.

  I cut my eyes up at him. “Oh, so there’s a hotter chick twenty-six miles away? I see how it is,” I teased.

  He snorted. “Nope. Not even twenty-six-thousand miles away.”

  “Since that’s farther than the earth is all the way around, you’re including outer space now. I’ll take it!” I giggled before pushing up off my seat to give him a quick peck on the lips then turned back to watch the girl step out of the ring wondering how the heck she could do it so gracefully with the six-inch stiletto heels she wore. Dang.

  A bell rang and the next round of the MMA fight started, so I grabbed my phone thinking I needed to start texting people again. Anything to keep from watching the brutality going on in that ring.

  Gable and I were at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas for New Year’s Eve, a trip his company had sponsored and paid for, and two of the guys he worked with had come also, all of us having flown in just last night. His coworkers were single, which sucked because there were no wives or girlfriends I could hang out with, so I’d been left to attend the fights with the guys, which had amounted to my avoiding the savagery going on in front of me and playing on my phone the whole time. Jeff and Chip—yes, Chip—Gable’s coworkers, were now seated at his other side, and all three of them were getting into the fight, which I’d been informed was the Title Fight and that the one before this one hadn’t mattered.

  “So, that one guy in the first fight got the crap kicked out of him for nothing?” I’d asked Gable after the first match, who’d told me I was cute, kissed my forehead, then continued talking to Jeff and Chip about how awesome it’d been when said guy’s elbow had snapped backward when he’d tried getting up from the mat. Uh. Okay.

  Now as they watched this fight—the two men in the ring all but going medieval on each other—Gable and his buddies excitedly yelled out things like, “Oh! He’s got him in a kimura!” and “Guillotine!” all of which I didn’t understand and didn’t really want to. So just as I had during the match before, I whiled away the time texting friends. Well, that and playing Seekers Notes which had become my latest obsession, aka procrastination device, I turned to when I got writer’s block.

  I decided to text Amy, my old roommate.

  Text Message—Thurs, Dec 31, 9:06 p.m.

  Me: Holy shit. You should see these ring chicks!

  Amy: You’re at an MMA fight with hot-bodied guys, abs for days, muscles sticking out everywhere, and you’re looking at the ring girls??

  Me: Aim, I swear, this one chick walked right out of Photoshop

  Amy: Duh. They probably have a fuckin’ airbrush machine backstage they paint ‘em all up with

  Me: Ohhhhhh…could be! That’s why they all look so perfect! Ngl, these chicks have got it going on! Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect bodies. It’s like a Stepford Wives convention or something. Who knows? Maybe they’re robots…dun dun dun!

  Amy: Could be. Or maybe it’s like a zombie apocalypse except they’re all gorgeous and instead of brains, they just wanna eat a sammich ‘cause I’m sure they’re all models and starving

  Me: Lol Totally possible. They’re just too perfect. You & Chad hit the club yet?

  Amy: We’re gonna be fashionably late

  Me: What, can’t get your eyeshadow just right?

  Amy: Mascara. Clumped too much. Third time’s a charm…sigh

  Amy was gorgeous and needed zero makeup, her coffee with cream skin the most perfect I’d ever seen. She’d actually never worn cosmetics regularly and had just recently asked me to show her how to put on eyeshadow. I’d taught her how to do a smoky purple that made her already startling sea-foam green eyes pop even more and the results had been stunning.

  Me: I’m sure it looks fine. You’re beautiful as is anyway! : )

  Amy: Aw. Right back atcha, babe. Oh! You told him yet?

  Me: Waiting until midnight ;)

  Amy: He’s gonna shit his pants

  Me: Uh, that’s not quite the outcome I’m wanting…I mean, I’ve been envisioning lots of hot sex after I tell him

  Amy: Just have some baby wipes ready to clean things up when he shits his pants

  Me: You’re really gonna go there? Not what I want to envision after I tell him!

  Amy: Just keepin’ it real, sister

  Me: How about you fictionalize it up some

  Amy: Okay…Oh, Scout! He’s gonna be sooooooo excited! He’ll pop a huge woody then jam it inside you ALL night long!

  Me: Much better (I hope you know I’m rolling my eyes)

  Amy: But he will SO shit his pants

  Me: Ooookay. Enough of that. I’m gonna text Bodhi now because I know shit won’t be the topic of our convo

  Amy: lol Well, tell Mr. Zen I said hi

  Me: Will do. Tell Chad I said hi! Love you! Happy New Year! <3

  Amy: Give Gable a big hug for me! Love you too! Have fun! HNY! Xo

  Amy and I had met when I’d answered her ad for a roommate after transferring to Hallervan University in Seattle my sophomore year, and we’d become fast friends. We’d lived together until our senior year when I’d moved in with Gable—and his brothers Ryker and Loch, which had been fun, no, really, it had—into the rental house their parents owned but in which they let the boys live. Chad had moved in with Amy at the apartment, but they’d since found a bigger place. Then three months back, Gable and I had built our own house, which he’d designed, and which
I was now obsessed with decorating.

  The bell dinged for another round to start and I frowned at having missed Stepford Ring Girl number five.

  Text Message—Thurs, Dec 31, 9:33 p.m.

  Me: What’s up, handsome? : )

  Bodhi: Getting ready, gorgeous! How’s Vegas?

  Bodhi was a tall, gay Buddhist—his self-description—who I’d met in the cafeteria my first year at Hallervan, and we’d been best friends since.

  Me: I LOVE it!! Well, not so much these two guys pounding the crap out of each other, but other than that, I love it!

  Bodhi: I’ll bet they’re hot

  Me: Yeah. Puffy eyes, bruises and all *eye roll*

  Bodhi: Makes ‘em even hotter lol

  Me: So you’d think Jaron was even hotter if he had, say, a black eye?

  Bodhi: Gay guys dig other gay guys with black eyes ;)

  Me: Hm. I guess the Florence Nightingale Effect is true for everyone. Gable had a black eye once and it WAS kinda hot

  Bodhi: Like that man can get even hotter! Got yourself a good one, Scout ;)

  Me: True! You should see him right now, leaning left and right, jabbing his fists, fighting from his seat lol

  Bodhi: You told him yet?

  Me: Nope. Midnight!

  Bodhi: He’s gonna come undone!

  Me: Thanks for not saying he’s gonna shit his pants. That was Amy’s response >.<

  Bodhi: Yeah, I know. I texted her earlier and she said it lol

  Me: So what’re you wearing?

  Bodhi: You flirting with me, honey?

  Me: Always ;)

  Bodhi: Got on a tux, woman! I look pretty hot if I do say so myself. Oh, and Jaron? God help me…

  Me: Very nice! I’ll bet you two look amazing! Pics later, k?

  Bodhi: Same! K I gotta go before Jaron tells me to hurry up for the thousandth time and we miss the ball dropping

  Me: Oh, you guys aren’t THAT old lmao

  Bodhi: Haha I miss your bad jokes. We need to get together soon!

  Me: Yes! Let’s! Okay, go get ready! Have fun! Love you! Tell Jaron I said hi! You guys have an awesome New Year’s!! <3

  Bodhi: Love you too, baby girl xo Tell Gable hi for me. And you guys do the same!

  I texted various other friends throughout the rest of the fight, ignoring it all for the most part, except for the ring chicks who just got even more Stepford-ier making me chuckle each time a new one came out looking even more perfect than the last.

  But what was weird was that it was at the times when I wasn’t all into my phone I felt as if I was being watched. When I looked around to see if someone’s eyes were on me, I couldn’t pinpoint anyone, which was just freaking eerie. After having this happen several times and still not catching who was watching me, I decided to chalk it up to nerves at what I had to tell Gable, but it was still super strange.

  The last time I’d felt I was being watched, I’d finally sat back with a huff and started texting again, but found myself worrying about Gable’s reaction later when I told him my news.

  I hoped he’d be ecstatic about it and we’d have hot sex for the rest of the night.

  Or, my luck, as Amy said, he’d shit his pants.

  Awesome.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Chapter 2

  “I love Vegas!” I yelled, waving the handful of money I’d won which I now had spread out like a deck of cards in my hand.

  Gable laughed. “Babe,” he called trying to calm me down. But I was too busy dancing around our room in my short, black sequined dress that was similar to a flapper dress, spangled fringes and all. “Scout!” he yelled.

  I stopped spinning—my blond hair flying into my face and the fringes of my dress twisting around my waist—for a moment before looking at him. “What?” I giggled at the exasperated look on his face.

  And, my lord, he looked hot—caramel-colored hair in a fade cut, sooty lashes surrounding golden brown eyes that were now looking at me in amusement, a perfect, straight nose, high cheekbones, strong stubble-covered jaw. Now, put all that together with him being dressed in a black tux, and damn.

  And under that tux, he was covered in tattoos—two full-sleeves and countless others on his chest—a colorful collection of various art, each representing something meaningful to him. My favorite one? The last he’d gotten which was just over his heart and under his RIP Coop tattoo for his best friend who’d died when they were in high school—a story for another time—but mine was a heart-shaped locket with “Priss”—his nickname for me—in the center, with a key that had opened it. Oh, how I loved it.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You gonna throw that money on the bed and roll around in it…in that dress…” He rubbed his chin giving me a smoldering look as if that wasn’t a half-bad idea. “Or are we going to the after-party?”

  “Although I do like that first idea, how about going to the party?” I answered with a snicker when he narrowed his eyes at me.

  After the fight, we’d stopped in the casino to try our luck. I’d insisted he go first and he’d gone to a blackjack table but hadn’t had a whole lot of luck. When he’d shrugged letting me know he was finished, I’d headed to the first slot machine I’d seen, put in $25 and had immediately hit, winning $2000.

  “Try it again,” he’d prompted.

  “Hell no!” I uttered then snorted at his shocked look. Taking his face in my hands and giving him a kiss, I’d explained, “Baby, I’ve got everything I need as it is. You, two-thousand buckaroos, a fabulous trip to Vegas on New Year’s Eve. What more could I want?”

  I’d chuckled as he’d mouthed, “Buckaroos,” then smacked his arm because he’d raised an eyebrow looking at me as if I were an idiot.

  “Is that an Idaho thing?” he’d asked.

  I’d rolled my eyes. “Yes. We Idahoans aren’t as progressive as you Seattle-lites, I guess. C’mon! I wanna cash this in!”

  We were now back in our room where we’d gone to lock the cash in the safe then change into our party clothes but I had to celebrate my win just a little.

  I waved the money in my hand one more time, throwing an eyebrow waggle his way just to make sure that, if he didn’t already know, I’d won.

  And Gable had had enough.

  As he stalked toward me, so freaking handsome in his tux, he growled low, “Gave you a chance, Priss.”

  My eyes got big as I took a step back. “But…the party…I…”

  He slowly shook his head as he advanced on me, me taking a step back for each one he took forward. When the backs of my knees hit the bed, I yelped out a giggle as I fell back onto it with a bounce.

  The look on his face had me instantly wet. I knew he meant business from the way his eyes glittered, making their way down my body and stopping to gaze between my legs. When they moved up to mine he ground out, “You’re not wearing any panties, Scout?”

  I bit my bottom lip as I shook my head, looking at him from under my lashes.

  “Just stockings and a fuckin’ garter belt?” he asked roughly as he took the money from my hand and set it on the nightstand.

  I nodded.

  “Fuck…me…” he uttered.

  Faster than I knew what was happening, he knelt, grabbed me by the ankles and threw my legs over his shoulders. Then his mouth was on me. And holy God. When Gable’s mouth was on me, it was pure heaven.

  “Oh, damn,” I whispered moving my hands down to lace my fingers in his hair where I held on, grinding against his mouth as he thrust his tongue inside, fucking me with it. “Gable!” I cried out, arching up off the bed.

  I could feel him smiling against me as he murmured, “Fucking love eating your sweet pussy. Yeah, dig those heels harder into my back, babe.”

  I moaned, then slamming my hands down, I gripped the bedspread as my hips involuntarily jerked toward him, my body wanting more of him, always wanting more. When he slid two fingers inside and moved his mouth up to suck my clitoris into its hot, wet confines, I screamed out his name and came completely a
part.

  “Oh…shit…baby…” I breathed out, my chest heaving as I gazed down to see him smirking at me.

  His golden eyes practically glowed as he ran his fingers over his lips before sliding them into his mouth to suck them clean.

  God.

  “Love how you taste, Priss.”

  Holy wow.

  “Love you, Gable,” I muttered, still breathing hard, the sequins on my dress making little clicking noises as they grazed each other with the rise and fall of my chest.

  “Love you back, babe.” He stood and grinned down at me, always so damned proud of how he could make me shatter into a million pieces for him.

  Of course, in no way did I mind his smugness because first of all, he was amazing at everything he did, and second, who was I to complain about experiencing the best orgasms I’d ever had?

  “I love my Gable-gasms,” I sighed, giving him a blissful smile.

  He barked out a laugh. “Babe…” He ran a hand through his messed-up-from-my-fingers-clutching-the-hell-out-of-it hair then taking his jacket by the lapels, snapped it, straightening it out.

  I sat up and smoothed my dress down where it hit me mid-thigh then still in a climax cloud, I stood and walked over to where he was messing with his bowtie in the wall mirror. Adjusting it for him, I remarked as I looked hazily at his reflection, “I think I owe you.”

  “Oh, you’ll pay,” he announced provocatively, his lust-filled eyes meeting mine in the mirror, and at the promise behind them, I felt a shiver ran through my body.

  “Okay,” I whispered, all caught up in his seduction.

  He chuckled low. “Fucking love you, Scout.” Turning, he pulled my body into his and kissed me hard. “If we’re gonna make this party, we need to go,” he said against my lips.

  “I don’t know. I think I might wanna stay here while you make me pay,” I answered breathily.

  He laughed as he pulled away. “Baby...”

  I blinked looking up at him then finally returning from Va-Va-Voom Land, I snapped out of my trance. “Ugh! Damn it, Gable! I can’t help it if you put me into sex comas.” He threw his head back and laughed and I couldn’t help but smile at how gorgeous my husband was.