[Fun and Games 01.0] The List Read online

  The List

  The Fun and Games Series Book #1

  Clare James

  Copyright © 2014, Clare James

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Perfect Pear.

  Contents

  About the Book

  The List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Gabe

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Gabe

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Gabe

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Gabe

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Gabe

  Epilogue

  Preview of The Game

  Club Venus

  Two Days Earlier

  Stevie

  Also by Clare James

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Clare James makes a splash with this "intense, romantic, unputdownable" book that kicks off her new Fun and Games series!

  You've never seen a bucket list like this one!

  Stevie Sinclair has just lost everything: her boyfriend, her apartment, even her ugly bird named Free. (Yeah, she knows it's a stupid name, so don't start.) But most importantly, Stevie's lost herself.

  As she shuffles through her days in worn-out Hello Kitty PJs--eating ice cream, sipping wine, and contemplating her next move--a magazine article catches her attention. Blaring black letters read: "How to Get Your Sexy Back in Six Easy Steps."

  Stevie studies the article in the trashy magazine like the good student she is and immediately knows what she has to do. With the magazine article in hand, and a bottle of red in her bag, Stevie embarks on a journey with her own list to reclaim her life and win back her ex.

  Until she meets Gabe Shannon. Gorgeous, single, and on a quest of his own, Gabe introduces Stevie to a lifestyle that is sure to help get her sexy back and then some. If she doesn't chicken out ... (Oh, you know where this is going.)

  The Fun and Games Series Includes:

  #1- The List

  #2- The Game

  #3- The Deal

  #4- The Rules (a prequel novella that can be read at any time during the series)

  Praise for Clare James’ Fun and Games Series

  "5 Dirty and Yummy Stars. I LOVED this book!!! This book will have you laughing, smiling, swooning, and for sure have your panties melting." - Book B!tches Blog

  "OMG! This book is the hottest damn book! A scorching, sexy, and great book. Get your One-Click fingers ready ladies and gents. This one is a keeper!" -GIVE ME BOOKS

  "5 stars -Wow! This book was just amazing. The heat between Stevie and Gabe is fantastic, and the scenes between them are scorching." -Eat Sleep Read

  "Ms. James uses Venus (the club) to engage all of the senses and I couldn't help but think that Stevie is one lucky bitch. Kudos, Ms. James, you've set a new daydream standard." - Love Between the Sheets

  "This pair had so much chemistry that it just about set my kindle ablaze. You will get caught up in this book and won't be able to put it down. 5 out of 5 stars!" -READ THAT

  "The sexy scenes in this book were HOT! Gabe is one that you shouldn't let go!" -Novel Seduction

  "5 Stars. I love Clare James! She certainly knows how to write something that has the pages steaming and your panties melting! Actually...Gabe had my panties melting...more than once!" -Romance Addiction

  "If you're into some hot erotic moments then you MUST read this. It kept me hot and bothered all the way through it." -Books2Fashion

  "5 Star Review- OMG, I devoured this book. Steamy and erotic doesn't fully describe the action that takes place under the sheets." -Rusty's Reading

  "Wow Clare James knows how to bring the heat. Grab it today."-Stephanie's Book Report

  "5 Stars! This was a great book. Very erotic and steamy, and funny." -Book Worms

  The List

  The Fun & Games Series Book #1

  By Clare James

  “Things are never so bad they can't be made worse.”

  -Humphrey Bogart

  Chapter 1

  Stevie

  Looking around the room makes me itchy. Seriously. We’re talking an eczema-level of discomfort here. Excessive, though I have to admit impressive, female skin adorn the space, while beautiful male forms scatter throughout the swanky condo like props on a movie set.

  “One hour,” Max says as we walk in. “I promise.”

  “I’m okay,” I tell him, not believing his promise for a second. My darling boyfriend lives for his work and chatting about it with the other blowhards in the room is his favorite past time. Still, I owe him one, so I’m trying to be a good sport. “Don’t worry about me.” I give him a little peck on the cheek. “I can keep myself entertained.”

  “Marry, Screw, Kill?” he asks, naming one of my favorite games I like to play when I’m bored. I know it’s immature, but sometimes it’s the only way to get through these things.

  “Possibly.” I shrug, unsure I could find anyone in the vicinity that I’d be willing to put into the Marry or Screw category. Then again, I do like a challenge, so I take Max’s arm and paint a smile on my face.

  The entire building is made of glass and steel, giving the room a cold and sterile vibe. Not unlike the guests. The men are all some version of a Ken Doll—most likely hung like one too—donning various cuts of Armani. Normally, I adore Armani. But here it’s so common and unoriginal, the men look like they belong in a Dockers commercial. This is a typical corporate soirée for Chicago’s young and successful.

  Personally, I’ve always detested the Ken Doll. I was more of a James Bond action figure kind of gal. My grandmother found one at a garage sale when I was ten and I kid you not, he was my first love. Maybe because he reminded me of Bogie from all the classics Granny and I watched together.

  How I’d love to be cuddled up watching those old movies right now, but I promised Max. Attending work functions is definitely one girlfriend duty I could do without. Plus, I don’t know why Max would even want me here. I’m so out of place. All the women are perfectly posed in their sculpted Pilates bodies—golden and dewy—draped in tiny, strappy little numbers. I, other the other hand, am secured in my modern-day girdle and vintage dress. With coiffed hair, matte face, and pale lips to match, I was going for Ingrid Bergman. Yet I have a feeling I’m coming off more like the sad librarian who lives with her cats. I was born in the wrong time, I’m sure of it.

  I take a crab cake from a cute server, who looks like he should be surfing instead of waiting on the posh and privileged, and he gives me an ear-to-ear grin in return. I’ll bet I’m his first female customer all night. The ladies in attendance aren’t
really known for eating.

  “Nice dress,” he says before handing me a napkin.

  Okay, so he might just be a Marry—most likely my only one of the night.

  “Go ahead, babe,” I tell Max as my nerves begin to calm. “Mingle. Talk business. I’ll follow along.”

  “Excellent, let’s go,” he says, dragging me over to a group of Kens—which as far as I can tell are all in the Kill category—and I instantly regret my enthusiasm. But then Max leans in and whispers in my ear, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I raise my brows and he stops, giving me a look that I haven’t seen for quite some time. A look that shoots straight to my lady parts.

  “I won’t let you down,” he whispers in my ear. “And I don’t care who you list as Marry or Kill tonight, because there will only be one person on your Screw list. Do you understand?”

  I’m so unprepared for his brazen words, my face heats. Max isn’t exactly known for his sexual prowess, and lately things in the bedroom have involved nothing more than sleep. But maybe, just maybe, this is the end to our dry spell.

  I’m giddy just thinking about it, and on the off chance I’m right, I really do it up. I am the perfect G.F. all night, so engaged I actually forget about my game. I laugh at the lame jokes, make small talk, and smile until my cheeks ache.

  It’s worth it, and I’m completely rewarded. There is sizzle between Max and I the entire evening—genuine sizzle!

  Oh, I am so getting laid tonight.

  Two hours and twenty minutes later—

  Max has my legs in the air as he pushes into me and I gasp for breath.

  Well, this is new.

  Oh my stars, he might actually get me there this time.

  Please God, please deliver the O ... it’s been more than a freaking year.

  “Max,” I say, without realizing it’s almost a yell.

  He stares down at me and the moonlight shines on his face but he’s wearing an expression I can’t quite understand. Pain maybe? Worry? Horniness? It’s been so long, I’m not sure what to make of it. Frankly, I can’t be bothered. My insides are tingling in anticipation of what he’s going to do next. Max stretches my arms over my head and locks my wrists in one of his large hands, taking his time as he rocks into me. I close my eyes at the surprisingly pleasant feeling of each movement.

  It’s a goddamn revelation, and I say a silent prayer of gratitude.

  Each thrust is foreign to me. Hell, Max is foreign to me. Where has this guy been for the last year? There’s a pulling in my core, one that says I’m close. Yes, something is definitely off with him—in a completely delicious way.

  I stare at his beautiful face: tan, chiseled, adorned with full lips. He’s a Ken Doll, but edgier—like he’s trying to break free from the mold. A mass of sandy hair dips near his big blue eyes. They close tightly now, full of concentration. My gaze travels down his strong, tight body. I keep pace with each movement, longing for a happy ending.

  He is so fantastically deep and grows almost crazed with his movements. I let him take me, and take control, enjoying the friction between our bodies. He’s really doing it this time. I’m climbing, climbing … legs trembling with the promise of release. Then he shifts the angle, and I start to lose it.

  Noooooo!

  My eyes pop open. It’s like an alarm, waking me into the present, one where I’m never allowed to come. I try to turn off my mind and focus on the task at hand. Shutting my eyes, I go through all the scenarios that usually do the trick when I’m alone: a dirty delivery from the scrumptious UPS guy, being ravaged by the new intern at the design shop, or a gorgeous commuter taking me in the back of the ‘L’ on the way to work.

  Nada.

  There are at least five other ways he could get me off, but after he freaked out when he first saw my toy box, I know better. No, I’m sure he wouldn’t take too kindly if I asked him to pass me my vibe right now. So I’m stuck with mental play only. Sadly, even my mother of all fantasies—yoga threesome—doesn’t get me there. Max has no trouble, however. His eyebrows knit together, his jaw clenches, his hips thrust a few times, then he grunts and rolls off me.

  Shit. Fuck, fuck. Shit.

  “Maxxxxxx!” His name echoes through the apartment, but it’s not my voice bouncing off the walls. No, I’m too frustrated to move. It’s Free Bird, our little cockatoo, making all the racket. Yeah, his name is completely ridiculous, but Max insisted. And though Max’s bedroom antics leave much to be desired, his romantic gestures are hard to resist—he brought Free Bird home on our six-month anniversary to keep me company when he traveled. It was the same month we moved in together.

  Free Bird understands my pain. Born in captivity, the poor little guy has never had a proper lay. I haven’t had one since … well, I can’t even go there. It’s just too sad.

  Yeah, my sex life with Max sucks balls. He knows it; I know it. It’s just the way it is, and we’ve come to accept it because everything else in our relationship is great. Seriously great. So we deny our pissed-off libidos and go through the motions.

  The first time Max was unable to seal the deal, I told myself, hey no big deal. It’s all part of being in a relationship. The second time? I chalked it up to whiskey dick after too much Jesus juice at a holiday party. Once we got into the double digits, though? I started looking for an escape route.

  But when I told my friend Tia that I was going to dump Max after three months, she thought I was being my typical flighty self. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” She grinned with that knowing look on her face.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Let’s just say you don’t have a long attention span when it comes to men. Or careers, apartments, hair color …”

  “Okay, okay.” I waved my white flag. I didn’t want to hear any more. It was the same thing my parents had been telling me for years.

  “It’s okay, Stevie.” Tia wrapped her arm around me. “It’s just how you are. And I love you for it.”

  Of course, she was right. In the past five years I’ve had: five jobs, four apartments, six hair colors, and countless relationships that never seemed to go anywhere. It was embarrassing actually, and I didn’t want her to love me for it. I didn’t want to be that girl.

  So I stuck it out with Max.

  By the time I realized our sex life was hopeless, I’d already fallen in love with the schmuck. The way he could make hanging in for dinner and a movie fun, the sweet look in his eyes when I came home from work, how he always made me feel safe and wanted. No, it wasn’t hot and heavy like I had with some guys, but it was comfort and love and security. Real grown-up stuff. And considering I turn thirty this year, I’d say it’s about time.

  Max opens his eyes and that painful look is still there. It kills me. This is usually the part where we slip away from each other. Where we drum up the courage to pretend there’s nothing wrong. This time, I want to be close to him—like I was for that brief moment when my orgasm stood at third base, waving me home. I want to get that connection back.

  I snuggle into the crook of his neck, my favorite spot in the entire world, and run my hand along the peaks and valleys of his chest. I feel his muscles tighten under my palm. Whether that’s a good sign or not, I haven’t a clue.

  “That was yummy,” I whisper, because it really was. Even without the happy ending.

  Max doesn’t acknowledge my comment with words. He simply kisses the top of my head and turns away from me.

  I hurry into the bathroom to clean up, frustrated beyond words. Not just because of orgasm denial … again. No, it’s Max’s reaction. The way he hides inside himself and doesn’t even try to fight for us.

  I’m so tired of it.

  And this time I will not take it lying down.

  So I march back into the bedroom to take what’s mine. Seize the O. Instead, I’m welcomed back to bed by a virtually comatose Max, snoring like an elephant in heat.

  For fuck’s sake.

  Chapter 2 br />
  Stevie

  The next morning, I wake up to an empty bed and an immediate and intense pain begins twisting in my belly. From the kitchen, the dishes rattle as Max opens and closes the cupboards. The coffee pot gurgles to life and the bacon sizzles on the stove. Max is preparing our breakfast—just like he always does.

  Yet this scene feels anything but ordinary. The tension of last night still hangs in the air.

  I throw on my ratty old robe and shuffle out to join him. But when I walk past the mirror in the hallway, and catch a glimpse of myself, the sight hits me hard. I look awful, I mean, embarrassingly awful. Max always says he likes that about me—the fact that I don’t dress to impress or show off for him, and that I’m completely comfortable in my own skin. This is so not the case today. There is nothing comfortable about it. Yikes, maybe this is why he keeps his eyes closed so much during sex—maybe he has to use his own fantasies to get there.