Even Odds (5 page)

“So what new games are you most excited about?” he asked when they were seated.

Isabel perked up. The new games at DiceCon were most of why she was so excited to be here. “Blizzard has a new dungeon crawler coming out that I want to get into the open beta on, and I'm hoping to try out the next Final Fantasy.”

Caleb nodded. “You and everybody else, I think. That line's going to be crazy.”

“I don't mind waiting for a game I really want to play.” Isabel finished her drink and fiddled with the empty cup. “I'm also in the
StarCraft
tournament tomorrow night.”

Caleb perked up. “No shit, really? I'm in that, too! I didn't think anyone was playing
StarCraft
anymore.”

Isabel clinked the edge of her empty cup to his. “So we're competitors, then. Hope you handle defeat well.” This kind of banter was familiar to her, her competitive drive perking up at the thought of the tournament.

“I could say the same to you.” Caleb leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over his other knee. His legs seemed impossibly long. How had she not noticed that before? She found herself staring at his thigh, the material stretched tight over the muscle by the angle of his leg, and all thoughts of the tournament and gaming competition were forgotten in the wake of a much more primal source of adrenaline. What were they talking about again?

Fortunately, he continued the conversation. “So are you local? I don't even know where you're from.”

“No, we flew up from Florida.”

A strange expression passed over his face, but before she could decipher it, it had passed. “What's it like living down there?”

“Hot. But I like it. I've got family down there, so I get to see them pretty often. Sometimes too often.” She grimaced, thinking about the times her mother used to show up unannounced at her house before she had to put an end to it.

“My parents are here in eastern Mass, but I'm hoping to move soon. There's definitely such a thing as too much family.” Caleb arched his back to stretch, showcasing the muscles across his chest. Was she just horny, or was he doing this on purpose? “How was your flight in?”

“It was all right. I fly a lot, so I don't really mind it.” Isabel shifted to turn more toward him. “We've got family down in Cuba, and we fly down whenever we can to visit.”

“I didn't know you were allowed to fly to Cuba.” Caleb finished his drink and set the empty cup down on an end table.

“You can if you've got relatives there. My immediate family is the first generation in Florida now, so my great-aunts and -uncles and about a million cousins still live in Cuba. At least it's a short flight from Tampa. It's getting easier all the time as the travel restrictions get lifted.” As she crossed her legs at the knee, she noticed Caleb watching the movement, and allowed herself a glimmer of hope that she wasn't the only one feeling the chemistry between them.

He leaned forward. “It's really hard to talk in here with this music. Do you want to go next door?” At her raised eyebrows, he shook his head. “They've got both suites. It's quieter over there. I'd like to keep talking.”

“Um, sure. Sure.” She got to her feet, feeling suddenly unsteady in a way that had nothing to do with the very small amount of alcohol she'd drunk.

What would the guys think if they saw her leaving the room with Caleb? They'd probably think she was on her way to winning the scavenger hunt. That wasn't the real reason she was chatting with him, though. He was nice. And hot. And she deserved to have some fun. She let him lead her through the door in the back of the room and into the connecting suite.

Five or six couples were spread throughout the room, sitting close together and talking. One couple over by the windows was making out with an intensity that made Isabel's entire body feel hot. Either Caleb didn't notice or he was kind enough to pretend not to notice. They sat down together on an empty couch and he angled his body toward her to continue their conversation, knees brushing hers.

“You must be close with your family,” he observed. When she nodded, he continued. “That's good. I think my parents and I would be closer if I lived farther away. They're the kind of people who are easier to take with distance.”

Isabel wasn't sure how to comment on that, so she nodded sympathetically. She should try to find something to add to this conversation other than nodding, because she was going to get bored with
herself
soon
,
never mind what he thought of her. Caleb looked toward the windows, thinking. Then he moved his head slightly and watched the couple making out near the windows, studying them as they devoured each other.

“You'd think they'd want to go back to their own hotel room by now,” Isabel said, just to say something. The entire situation was making her uncomfortable, but not in the way she thought: she felt hot and anxious and turned on, despite the fact that their conversation was the least arousing one in the world.

Caleb smiled. “I don't know. Sometimes it's hot to make out in public.”

Isabel licked her lips, which had gone dry. That was definitely a come-on that even she could recognize. Then, some kind of impulse control in her brain turned off, or she temporarily lost her mind, or something happened to her that afterward she wouldn't be able to quite explain, and she found herself leaning toward Caleb without any real thought of the possible consequences. More surprising than her actions, though, was the fact that he closed the distance between them and kissed her first. Her first thought was how encouraging it was that he would want to kiss her back, and then he slanted his mouth to the side and parted her lips, and thinking suddenly became much more difficult.

She hadn't been kissed in a very long time—longer than she'd care to admit—but the feelings came flooding back as he traced her lips with his tongue. With her entire body tingling, she touched her tongue to his, experimenting with the sensation, shocked by the spike of pleasure that raced right through her body. She'd forgotten what she'd been missing. Cupping the back of his head with her hand, she held him closer, reveling in the warm press of his chest against hers, the brush of his beard against her face. His own hand was dangerously high on her leg, rubbing circles on the denim as he continued to kiss her. He smelled like some kind of spicy cologne, not overpowering, just completely unique from any other smells. Through some foggy part of her mind, she wondered if this shirt would smell like him tomorrow.

He broke the kiss first, and Isabel took a moment to open her eyes, her body sluggish and nonresponsive. His eyebrows were raised, lips curled in a puzzled expression. Oh god, was she terrible at kissing? Was he about to complain to her that he'd never met such a bad kisser until he met her?

When he spoke, his words were just low enough for her to hear, even in the relatively quiet room. “Why are you trembling so much? Is this all right?”

Isabel averted her eyes, her hands dropping back down from his shoulders. His hand remained on her thigh, though, the other one draped across the back of the couch behind her. Even though they weren't kissing, his body remained in the perfect position to kiss her again.

How could she explain this to him in a way that wouldn't make her sound like a complete freak? “No, no, I'm fine. It's just . . . I don't do this very much.”

“Oh!” He drew back, taking his hand from her thigh. “Are you . . . so you're a . . .”

“Oh no. Not for a long time.” She was able to laugh, and laughing felt good. No one had accused her of being a virgin for quite some time now. Then she turned serious again, the laughter fading. “I just don't date much.”

“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He looked aside, biting his lip, and he looked so sheepish that her heart ached a little for him. “I thought that's what you wanted.”

“Yes! Yes, it was. That's what I wanted. Want. What I . . . want.”

He'd turned to look at her again, his eyes dark in the dim light, and he was staring into her own eyes with such intensity that she was having a difficult time thinking. “I . . . get affected. Easily. By, um . . . things.”

When he smiled broadly again, she could just see his dimples beneath his beard. “You get affected easily? What does that mean?”

He was going to make her say it. Just when she couldn't possibly blush any more than she already was.

“Does that mean I'm turning you on?” he asked lasciviously, his voice lowering an octave.

Isabel closed her eyes. If it was possible for someone to die of embarrassment, this might be the moment, right here, when it happened. Maybe if she didn't look at him, he wouldn't exist. It wasn't like she was an inexperienced virgin, but she hadn't been in this situation for so long—and never with a total stranger—that she felt way more awkward than the circumstances warranted. She needed to get her act together.

“Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't tease you.” His voice softened, and he even took her hand in his. She opened her eyes, her body still feeling hot and confused and, yes, turned on. “It's flattering.”

“Oh. Thanks.” There, that was an inane response. Geez, and she was supposed to be smart.

“So do you want me to stop? We can stop. We probably should stop.” He nodded.

“Oh. Um.” Great, now she'd begun two sentences that way. Apparently his kiss rendered her the least articulate person in the world. Isabel forced her brain to settle down. She licked her lips again, and noticed that he watched her tongue. That was a good sign. She could feel her heart beating against her ribs. She was going to do this. “No, I don't want to stop. I want to find a place where we both can be alone. Together.”

For a moment she was worried that he was going to laugh at her, or worse, turn her down, shake his head, and stand up and leave. But then he smiled, cupped her cheek, and kissed her again, his tongue tangling with hers without hesitation, and she kissed him back, pulling him with her as she leaned against the side of the couch. He propped himself up on his elbows, his body almost on top of hers, pressing her down in a way that felt confining and arousing all at once. One of his hands cupped her breast, pressing against her through her blouse, and she inhaled so quickly she nearly bit him, the sensation rushing through her like lightning. He teased her nipple with his thumb, and her thin blouse and tank top did little to restrict the spine-tingling sensation. Holy shit this was hot. She dug her nails into his shoulder as he moved his mouth from her lips to her ear, his every touch making her shiver.

“I'm staying at this hotel. My room is down on the fourth floor.”

She felt herself trembling, but now it was from excitement more than anxiety. The smart thing to do would be to say no. She didn't even know this guy, and she'd never see him again after this weekend. She wasn't the type of girl to sleep with a guy she'd just met.

Instead, she nodded and smiled.

———

This was a terrible idea.
An absolutely, completely, 100 percent terrible idea. He knew it even as he opened his mouth and said, “My hotel room is two floors down from here.” He knew it even as her eyes brightened and she nodded her agreement, her hands trembling in his and a smile on her soft lips.

Sleeping with a woman during DiceCon wasn't a problem; this was territory he'd navigated in the past without incident. And maybe it was just a coincidence that Isabel was from Florida and worked with a game company out of Tampa. That company wasn't necessarily PI Games. Tampa was a big city; maybe there were other game companies nearby, and Isabel worked for one of those. Maybe she didn't work for the game company where he hoped to get a job. Maybe he wasn't about to sleep with a potential coworker.

Then why couldn't he bring himself to ask?

She got to her feet, wobbling a little, still smiling. “I need to tell my friends I'm leaving so they don't worry.”

Caleb stood up too. He knew why he wasn't going to ask. Because asking meant that he thought he might have the job. Isabel wasn't a potential coworker, since chances were he wasn't going to hear from PI Games at all. It would be one more company he'd pin all his hopes on and then fail. The more he reminded himself that the job was a long shot and acted accordingly, the less crushing the inevitable letdown would be. Just in case she had second thoughts, though, he gave her an out. “I'll be down in room 468. I hope I see you.”

Isabel nodded. “Okay.”

The whole way down in the elevator, Caleb considered his options. Objectively, he had no reason
not
to sleep with her. She was willing, they were both adults, and neither of them was intoxicated. He didn't actually know that she worked for PI Games, and even if she did, he probably wasn't going to get the job. The chance that they would be coworkers was slim to none. She might not even show up to his room tonight, and all this worrying would be moot.

He opened the door to his bedroom and tossed his key card and wallet onto the desk, then sat on the edge of the bed and toed off his shoes. Looking around the room, he spotted his laptop in the corner. He could google her. PI Games probably had a list of employees on their website, and if she wasn't on the list, then he'd know he was in the clear.

Caleb wasn't sure how long he stared at the laptop without moving, but a gentle knock on the door startled him out of his moral dilemma. Guess it was too late now. He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind and got up to open the door.

In front of room 468,
Isabel hesitated. If she thought about this too long, she probably wouldn't do it. She'd only slept with a few guys, all within the context of committed relationships, and all the sex therein was fairly ordinary. Good sex, yes, but unadventurous. She'd never even fucked her boyfriend outside of a bed, and here she was about to have a one-night stand with a complete stranger . . . because of a scavenger hunt?

No, not because of a scavenger hunt. Because she never did anything crazy or spontaneous—and this weekend, she was going to.

She knocked on the door.

The sounds of scuffling came from inside, then the heavy metal door swung inward. Caleb wore a look of cautious anticipation on his face.

“I wasn't sure if you were going to come.” He stepped aside. “Come on in.”

Caleb's hotel room was similar to hers, since, really, all hotel rooms in the same price range were kind of alike, but the king-sized bed dominated the room in a way she wasn't sure happened in hers. Maybe it was just that that's where her mind was, right on that king-sized bed, which was still made up neatly with all its dozens of pillows in place.

“Are you all right?”

Isabel realized she was staring at the bed, and when she looked over at Caleb, he was grinning. His dimples put her at ease. “Yeah. I'm great.” She slipped off her shoes, the cute little ballet flats she'd brought in case she went anywhere nice, and stepped onto the carpet with her bare feet. Courage running hot in her blood, she stepped forward to close the distance between them.

There wasn't much time to do any other thinking, because he backed her right up against the wall and started kissing her again, his hands pressed against the wall, one next to her head, one next to her chest, framing her body as he teased her tongue with his. Isabel felt her knees weakening and reached up to steady herself, wrapping her arms up and over his shoulders. She could get used to this. He leaned in, pressing her against the wall with his body, drawing a moan from her. Breaking the kiss to catch his breath, Caleb began kissing her neck, tipping her head aside, nipping the sensitive skin there. She might not be able to stand up if this continued. Her whole body felt wobbly, caught up in his smell and his warmth, and it was surprisingly easy to forget that she'd just met him that same day.

Caleb's hand skimmed along the outside of her leg and pulled, lifting her leg to hook her knee over his hip. His erection pressed into her lower belly, hard and urgent, and the arousal swimming through her felt stronger than any alcohol. He bent slightly to press that hardness against her, and even through their jeans, she felt an answering spike of adrenaline. He began nipping at her collarbone, exposed over the neckline of her tank top. He hoisted her up slightly with both hands on her ass, and she felt the overwhelming sensation of dizziness and arousal and excitement, hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt.

“You're gorgeous,” he said against her lips, grinding against her again. Isabel wanted to reply, but her answers stuck in her throat. She didn't know it could be like this, and any reply seemed inadequate. When he stepped back, his eyes were so dark that she could barely see any green in them anymore. “Tell me what you want.” He looked into her eyes. “Why are you here, Isabel?”

She licked her lips. At work, she was eloquent and poised, quick with a comeback. Here, though, in front of Caleb, language failed her. He waited, clearly wanting her to say something. Her half shrug wasn't good enough, and he shook his head. He took her hands and backed away from the wall, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to him. Isabel had to part her knees to stand on either side of his hips, but wasn't quite tall enough, so she found herself climbing up on the bed over him, straddling him, looking down into his eyes. Every nerve ending on her skin felt alive as he traced his fingertips up and down her arms. “You're going to have to tell me what you want.” He was smiling, teasing her, but her arousal and sudden, unexpected anxiety made words difficult. His hands went to the buttons on her blouse and toyed with the first one, unfastening it, then refastening it. He could surely see her breasts heaving beneath it as she panted.

“Do you want me to take off your blouse?”

She nodded, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Ask me,” he said.

Isabel swallowed. This was odd, but strangely hot, so she'd play along. “Will . . . will you take off my blouse?”

“Why, yes, of course I will.” He unfastened each button with methodical precision, and as he parted the two halves of the red blouse, his knuckles brushed her nipples through the fabric of her tank top. She gasped, her body sparking as he dragged his thumb across her collarbone, then ghosted his fingers down her sides, his hands staying maddeningly away from her breasts as he pulled off her blouse and tossed it onto the floor.

Wanting to contribute somehow, to take the attention off herself, she went to his black dress shirt, focusing on unfastening each button. He let her, and she could feel him watching her face even though she wasn't making eye contact. She parted the halves of the shirt and slid it down off his shoulders. He was down to a plain white T-shirt underneath it now, and she could see the outlines of his lean muscles through it, and under that, the faint shadow of tattoos. Then she hesitated, her hands just barely brushing his shoulders.

“Take off my shirt,” he murmured, more of a request than a command. At his words, she tugged the shirt free from his jeans and pulled upward. He lifted his arms, letting her pull the fabric up and over his head and toss it aside. When he was shirtless, she couldn't stop herself from running her hands up his chest, feeling the crinkle of his chest hair beneath her fingers, examining his tattoos up close.

“These are amazing.” She ran her fingers over the patterns: a geometric design across his chest wrapped down his rib cage and up over his shoulders, blending into his two half sleeves. His left upper arm was all sea creatures; his right upper arm was a medley of game references. “And really geeky.”

He laughed, his muscles moving as he did so. “I'm glad you get them.”

She continued to examine him, finally looking beyond his tattoos. His body was solid, and the musculature of his chest surprised her. He didn't have the body of someone she'd expect worked at a desk all day, as she would have imagined it: his arms, especially, were strong, and she could feel the muscles beneath the surface of his biceps and forearms. He let her touch him without rushing her, his hands behind him on the bed to prop himself up. She needed to kiss him again and took his face in her hands to do so. The kiss made shivers run down her back, especially when he gently bit her lower lip between his teeth. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't touching her: he was kissing her back with enthusiasm, but his hands remained behind him.

After drawing back slightly, she looked down, confused.

“What do you want me to do?” He met her eyes, his own sparkling with a barely contained smile.

So that's what they were doing, then. Isabel slid down off his lap and grabbed the comforter, shoving all the bedding and sheets down, making Caleb get up in the process. She pushed the bedding onto the floor, leaving the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. There, that was clear enough, wasn't it? She climbed to the middle of the stripped-down bed, her arousal making her bolder. She felt like they were playing some kind of game, an even give-and-take of challenging and yielding. They were two perfectly matched players who were somehow both opponents and teammates. “Take off my shirt.”

Caleb climbed fully up onto the bed and approached her on his hands and knees, like a wild animal, and Isabel felt a thrill of excitement and nerves at the sight. He took the bottom of her red tank top in one hand and tugged it up over her head, baring her body to his eyes and his touch. As soon as he'd tossed her top aside, he pushed her down on the bed, onto the piles of pillows that kept her half upright, and devoured her mouth again.

“Fuck, your breasts are fantastic,” he said, pulling back enough to look down at her body, her breasts barely contained by her plain cotton bra. “I can't believe you were hiding these under that ugly-ass T-shirt.”

Isabel couldn't help but laugh, shoving halfheartedly at his chest. “Come on. I keep these covered up on purpose.”

“What, to keep people from walking into walls?” Caleb nipped the upper swell of her breast, and she had a hard time answering him, her breath ragged in her own ears.

“No, to make sure people look at my face during conversations.” She ran her fingers into his hair, fingernails brushing his scalp as he laved kisses along the edge of her bra.

Caleb slid both hands behind her back and deftly unfastened the undergarment, never taking his mouth from her skin. After he drew the fabric away, he brought his hands up to brush the outside of her breasts. Even just that contact was enough to make her squirm. This felt too fantastic to be real, and she could tell she was soaking wet already. His fingertips traced right beneath her breasts, then between them, then over the top, and then down her sides again and over her stomach. He wasn't going to just touch her like she wanted to be touched unless she asked for it, and even though it was embarrassing, it was also incredibly hot.

“Touch me . . .” Her voice came out breathy.

“I am touching you.” Leaning forward, he nipped at her earlobe. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

It was easier when she closed her eyes. “My breasts.”

“Like this?” He cupped her breasts with both hands as he began kissing her again, and her gasp was lost in his mouth. He couldn't quite fit her entire breast in his palm, and he squeezed them gently before focusing on the nipples, rubbing his thumbs over the tips, then pinching them between his fingers. Sparks of light flashed behind her eyes and she arched up into his hands, too breathless even to moan. She dug her fingernails into his back to encourage him onward.

Caleb began kissing her neck then, down to her collarbone, which he'd figured out was sensitive to his teasing bites. Isabel could barely keep her head about her, wanting to feel his mouth all over her body. If he wanted her to ask, she'd ask. “Please suck on me.”

“Where?” He had his head between her breasts now, his tongue tracing the valley there, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.

“My nipples,” she whispered.

He didn't need to be told twice, and his mouth slid down over her breast, finding and latching on to the peak. He sucked hard, and she dug her fingers into his hair, the pleasure so focused and intense that she couldn't think of anything else. Oh fuck, this was incredible. He switched to the other breast, and his fingers tweaked the nipple he'd just left. Isabel couldn't seem to stop squirming beneath his touch.

He dipped his tongue into her navel, smiling when she arched up against his mouth, her body moving on its own to seek more sensation. “Do you want me to undress you?”

“You're still . . .” She gestured to the fact that he was still half-clothed, too. “It's not fair to you if I just lie here.”

“We'll get to me soon. I like watching you. So do you want me to take your jeans off?”

Isabel nodded, wetting her lips with her tongue. When he paused, she spoke up right away. “
Please
take them off.” Caleb undid the fastenings and began to draw her jeans down, grabbing her underwear, too, to slide everything off. Before she could protest or try for some very misplaced modesty, he'd completely undressed her and tossed her clothing aside. Her immediate desire was to cover herself, but before she could do so, he knelt between her thighs and pushed her legs apart. She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his stare, not sure whether the pounding of her heart was embarrassment or excitement. Then she felt him parting her folds, and she gasped, eyes flying open as his fingers found her clit. He hadn't made her ask, hadn't warned her at all, just began rubbing her steadily back and forth. She grabbed at the bedsheets, overwhelmed, arching up toward his hand.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” His voice was somehow calm, composed, even though Isabel felt like she was about to fall apart and begin begging.

“Yes, oh god, yes.” She flopped back, her head hitting the pile of pillows. She couldn't lie back like this; the mountain of pillows kept her propped up so she couldn't help but watch him as he touched her. And she didn't mind that one bit.

He slid one finger into her pussy, and she clenched reflexively as he began stroking in and out. His thumb made lazy circles around her clit with each pass. Each stroke made her fall apart even more. She gripped the bedsheet, wishing she could talk or moan or something instead of just panting silently, unable to speak. When he added a second finger, opening her up even more, her body began to throb. She wanted more, wanted to feel him inside her, that delicious burning fullness, but couldn't find words to express what she wanted.