All or Nothing

Wicked Games, #1

by

C.C. Wood

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Copyright Crystal W. Wilson 2015

Kindle Edition

Cover by

Jena Brignola, Bibliophile Productions

Editing by

Libros Evolution

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Mi Cocina, Starbucks

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Part One: The First Move

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Part Two: Dirty Trick

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Part Three: The End Game

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Contact C.C.

About C.C.

Titles by C.C. Wood

Part One

The First Move

Chapter One

Three Years Ago

‡

Girls Night Out was my favorite night of the week. Ashley, Katie, and I had a standing date every Thursday night at a local bar. We’d indulge in $4 margaritas then call for an Uber ride home before the bar turned into an overcrowded meat market.

Tonight began no differently than any of the others, but the end of the evening would change the course of my life.

We’d been in the bar for a little over an hour when Katie began glancing over my shoulder. Then she prodded Ashley with her elbow and they both stared at something behind me.

“What are you two looking at?” I asked, turning to take a look at whatever had captured their attention.

They grabbed at my arm. “No, no, don’t look,” Katie exclaimed.

“What’s going on?” I asked, already tipsy from two exceptionally strong cocktails.

Ashley leaned forward. “There’s a guy at the bar and he’s staring at you. And I mean, staring. He’s also hot. Like, really, really hot.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

Katie nodded. “Oh yeah.” Then she shook her head at me. “Girl, if I didn’t love you so much, we’d have a bitch smack down for that tall drink of water. Seriously.”

I couldn’t prevent the laugh from escaping me. “As if you’d win,” I scoffed.

She shrugged. “I may not win, but you’d feel me tomorrow.”

I giggled harder. “Well, maybe he isn’t staring at me. Maybe he’s staring at one of you.”

“Oh, no, Jena. He’s staring at you,” Ashley insisted.

“Are you sure?”

Men might take one look at me, but few approached. I knew I wasn’t ugly, but I also wasn’t anything special. My dad always described me as striking. I figured that was a nice way of saying I wasn’t a supermodel, but I also wasn’t hard to look at. My long brown hair was wavy and thick and I always liked my dark brown eyes. I did my best to keep my naturally curvy figure in shape. I worked out a few times a week and watched my diet most of the time.

“Oh yeah,” Ashley drawled. “Don’t turn around either, because he’s headed this way.”

My eyes bugged out. “What?”

“Oh, that man has some balls,” Katie murmured. “He’s approaching you with both of us sitting here.” Her eyes flicked to me. “I mean it, Jena. If you don’t want this one, I’m taking him. Any man with that kind of gumption is the man for me. At least for tonight, anyway.”

I laughed at her words, still doing so when the man in question stepped up to our table. I looked over and then up, and up. He was tall, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, and packed with lean muscle. When my eyes hit his face, I swallowed a gasp.

My friends weren’t exaggerating when they said he was gorgeous. He was. Totally. Utterly. Golden blond hair, honey brown eyes, and bronzed skin. He looked as if he’d been gilded. A golden boy.

He grinned down at me, a small dimple adding an irresistible charm to his gorgeous face. “Hey, my name’s Justin.”

I blinked up at him, my mind completely blanked by his male beauty. One of the girls kicked my ankle lightly, bringing me out of my hot guy stupor. “Hey. I’m Jena,” I answered, holding out a hand.

Justin took my palm in his, squeezing gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Jena,” he said softly.

I smiled up at him, entranced by the sound of his voice. The timbre was as honeyed as his hair, smooth, sweet, and Oh-so-Southern. Very sexy.

Still holding my hand, he inched closer. “Beautiful Jena, can I buy you a drink?”

When he said it like that, in that deep drawl, I believed him absolutely when he said I was beautiful. I liked hearing it when he said it.

I didn’t realize that I was staring up at him, not speaking, until one of the girls kicked me again.

Jumping, I answered, “I’d like that.” Belatedly, I realized I was being rude by not introducing my friends. “These are my friends, Katie and Ashley.”

Justin looked over at them, still smiling and holding my hand. “Ladies,” he said with a nod.

They murmured a greeting back, but didn’t say much else.

He studied us for a moment. “I’ll tell you what, how about I buy you all a round?”

This offer was immediately and enthusiastically accepted. Ashley even grabbed a chair and pulled it up to our table.

The next hour flew by. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had such a great conversation with a guy. Justin and I chatted, but he made an effort to include Ashley and Katie. The conversation flowed easily and he was funny. Really funny. I laughed a lot and so did my girlfriends.

The closer it got to eight o’clock, the more reluctant I was to leave, but we rarely stayed past happy hour because the bar tended to get rowdy as the night went on. Also the $4 margaritas became $8 margaritas and I had no interest in paying that tab because the girls and I could drink when we put our minds to it.

Eventually, Ashley noticed the time and suggested we should pay our bill and arrange for our ride home. Justin nodded as if he understood, then got up from the table.

“I’ll be right back, ladies.”

The three of us watched him walk to the bar, all loose-hipped grace and latent strength. I turned back to my girlfriends.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Am I imagining it or is he into me?”

Ashley shook her head as though she thought I was hopeless. “Girl, he is way into you. Are you seriously that blind?”

I shrugged. “Well, hell, I don’t know. I’ve had five margaritas. Or was it six? I don’t know.”