Wicked Games 7

Chelsea

I hated being in the clubhouse. Especially with Wicked and his new plaything everywhere I looked. They weren’t shy about touching each other, in fact, they seemed to have their hands on each other all the damn time.

Nothing sexual, I wasn’t even sure I had seen them kiss but she was always running her hand through his dark hair or trailing a finger over his tattoos. Casual, intimate touching. And somehow that made it worse. Because it wasn’t sexual. It was relaxed and familiar. Like they were in love.

And it hurt. Because when it came to me Wicked was all anger and lust. With Mel though he was gentle touches and soft glances. He wanted to fuck me but I was suspecting with every passing day that he might be in love with her.

There was no getting away from them either. Every time I saw them together something died a little more inside of me.

“Hello, Chelsea.”

Raising my head, I let my eyes trail up Mels long denim-clad legs. “Hey.” I didn’t bother to elaborate instead went b