Love Game (5 page)

H
E WAS QUICK TO
accommodate her, taking them down as far as he could. The small space of a front seat made it awkward, but no less exciting or agonizing as he played her so right that she gripped his wrist and led him to finger her inside. His rough groan was infinitely arousing, calling up the whimpers, mewling little gasps, that broke from her throat.

But then he was no longer stroking and neither was she. Together they held him poised, dangerously close to the point of no return.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. It’ll be good. I’ll make it so good for you.”

“No—no. Anything but. I’m not ready for this, Greg.”

He nudged her with a tempting glide between the slit of her folds. “Your body says that you’re plenty ready, baby.”

“My body, yes. But…” She wanted to cry. She wanted to say the hell with it and just do it. She’d thought that she could, but now that she was here—No, she
wasn’t
ready.

His breathing was ragged, his face etched in pained, severe lines. And his voice, it hurt a little to hear because it was terse with the effort to sound calm.

“You’re
telling me ‘No’ and I’ll honor that. Your body, your choice. But to come this far and leave me hanging—Chris, I feel like I deserve an explanation.”

Chris couldn’t bear for him to think she had less respect for his body than he’d shown for hers. And so, painful as it was, she forced the words.

“There was a
man I got involved with about a year ago. An old friend, actually, who did a lot of hand-holding before he admitted to wanting me for a lot more than a friend. I knew he cared more in that way than I did, but I was lonely and the hurt wasn’t going away. I told myself that I could heal faster, come alive again, by going to bed with him. I did…but it didn’t work out. I—I…” A tear slid down her cheek. Greg’s eyes glittered with an incisive hunger, but the fingertip he swept over the tear was amazingly tender.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

“I did something wrong. Our clothes were off and—and I did something wrong. It was just that I loved Mark so much, I missed him so much. Time was supposed to make it better, but—I couldn’t get rid of his clothes, couldn’t stop waking up every morning and my first thought was ‘Where’s Mark, why isn’t he in bed? Oh, that’s right, he’s dead. Dead, dead…
dead.’
How could he have done that to me? Leaving me before I could tell him that I loved him, one last time. Make love to him once, just once more. I never got to tell him goodbye. He was there and then he wasn’t and if I just could have told him—but I couldn’t and so I did something wrong.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, you don’t have to say any more.”

“But I want to, I—I need to. I’ve had this bottled up so long, it’s been like a cancer eating me alive. That night, while another man touched me, I closed my eyes and pretended Mark was there, that it was him instead. I wanted him to be inside me and…and…”

“You said his name.”

“Mark,” she whispered brokenly. “I called for Mark
and then—then I was alone. Lying naked on a bed and watching this man I thought was my friend fling off the sheet. Not a word. Then he was jerking on his clothes and I was talking, trying to explain, to apologize—but he was walking out. Out of his own bedroom where I couldn’t get his name right, out of the house I couldn’t drive away from fast enough. Out of my life. We’d gone to the same church and he even transferred his membership. I think maybe he loved me but he knew I could never love him back.”

“Chris.” There was a wealth of sympathy in the thumbs that stroked the wetness coursing down her cheeks. But there was more, a certain male selfishness Greg didn’t try to disguise. “He shouldn’t have left you like that. I’d like to say I would have behaved better, but I’m afraid I might have been worse. I don’t think I could have managed the grace to stay silent.”

“I wish he hadn’t been. The silence was ten times more horrible than anything he could have said. I felt like I’d cheated on two men, not one, and…It was a nightmare, Greg, a nightmare.”

“I’m sure it was.” His simple acceptance was exactly the right amount of comfort and Chris took it. All cried-out, she felt cleansed, freed from sickbed sheets that had been mummy cloth silencing her body, her breath.

She wanted to thank Greg but it didn’t feel right. Something about him said her gratitude would take away from what he’d gladly given.

“You know, Greg, I can hardly believe it myself, but in a matter of days you’ve come to know me better than the people who’ve known me all my life.”

“I like that. I like it a lot.” He didn’t return
her smile. Indeed, he got rid of hers with a sudden and hard, tongue-thrusting kiss that left her speechless when he was done. “Know me better, Chris. Know me well enough to realize I won’t be any man’s stand-in, ever. Let’s find out who you’re really with tonight. It’s something you need for yourself, and I want to be the one who sees to that need.”

“Greg, I—”

“Don’t say my name again. Don’t say anything until you don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, you only know you’re calling for someone to be inside you. Me, Chris. It’s going to be me who takes you there. And it’s going to be me you ask for when you’re ready to take it all the way. I’ll make sure you get the name right, trust me.”

A man in his element, he made all the right moves. Kisses and more kisses, hot and deep. Hands wooing her with a perfect balance between gentle persuasion and rough demand. There, on the breasts he bared to the chill air and heated in his mouth until steamy windows shut out the pale sliver of a moon. And there— “Yes, please, there”—where he drew fluid circles and her body grasped for more than a mock coupling.

Greg…Greg…

That’s it, yes…yes, that’s it. Good, so good, baby. But it’s been too long. Again, you need it again…. That’s right, take it. Take it and say my name.

How many times she said it, she didn’t know, only that it was his name she cried out, pleading for him to be inside her and why,
why,
wouldn’t he be there? His hands, his mouth, his teasing thrusts, they were everywhere but inside her.

He didn’t stop until she sobbed for him to quit, she couldn’t take any more. Her body listless, her head slumped to the side, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

Perhaps he intuited her need to regain some sense of self, or maybe
he was struggling for his own control. Chris was too fragmented to care about the reason, just grateful he gave her time to collect the scattered pieces of herself before he firmly turned her face to him.

What she saw was a starkly honest man. One who was pleased with himself and with the woman he had so well pleasured.

“Just a little incentive, something for you to think about.” He folded her palm around his erection. “You’re a sexy woman and I’m a needy man who doesn’t have time to waste. Cards on the table. I want to keep things square.”

“I have no false illusions, Greg. We have no future.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take something with us when we go our separate ways.”

“I’m not sure what you’re after.”

He was quiet, pensive, as he stroked her hair, and then he said, “Tell me, Chris, did a man ever talk dirty to you in bed, or explain, graphically, exactly what he wanted you to do to him?”

What?
Startled beyond speech, she was glad the word hadn’t slipped out and given her away for what she was: a woman who’d lost her virginity to the man she’d eventually married. A wonderful man who most certainly had
not
talked dirty and still made her feel plenty satisfied in the sack. She hadn’t needed any comparisons to know what they had was good.

“Why do you want to know?” she finally asked.

“The same reason I want to know if you ever told a man exactly what you wanted.”

“Well, I…I never had to. I mean, he always—”

“Knew what to do?”

“Yes.”

“But how could he know exactly what you wanted if you didn’t tell him? Was he a mind reader, by chance?”

“No, an accountant.”

“Well, that certainly explains it.”

Chris wasn’t sure,
but she thought Mark had just been insulted. Or maybe Greg was making a joke about her evasion. Whatever his intent, he’d definitely gotten her attention.

“I wonder,” he said casually, “do you like oral sex?”

“Oral—” Good Lord, where was he going with this?

“A nod or a shake will do.”

Finding her voice, she blurted, “It’s fine!”

“Fine. Hmm…I see.” He tapped his chin and stared at her quite thoughtfully. “Do you swallow?”

“Sw-swa—Are you trying to shock me?”

“If I wanted to shock you I’d tell you exactly what I’d like to do to you. But if you want to know, you’ll have to ask.”

Did she swallow?
At the moment she was swallowing what felt like cotton. Greg obviously had a purpose, a goal she was suddenly curious to have defined. Licking dry lips, she made herself say, “And what exactly is it that you’d like to do with me?”

His smile was thin but definitely pleased. She felt as if she’d passed some sort of test from a tough teacher who very much liked her answers.

“To be exact, I want to make love to you like you’ve never experienced it before. Very nice, very slow and easy—for starters.”

“For starters?” she repeated.

“Surely you don’t think that’s where it would end.”

Not sure if she wanted to know, but too curious not to ask, she did. “Where would it end, Greg?”

“I have no idea, but I’d like to find out. I’m very open to suggestions and I’m not shy about making my own requests. If you want me to be more explicit, I’d be more than happy to give you a taste of talking dirty in bed.”

“
No!
I mean, no,
that’s not necessary. I get the picture.” When he grinned, she added, “I think.”

He kissed her then—a generously sweet, disturbingly demanding kiss that confused her even more.

“You’re killing me, Chris, killin’ me. Don’t keep me hanging, I need your answer.”

“You’d get it a lot sooner if I knew the question.”

Something between a groan and a frustrated sigh passed his lips. “Look, I realize what kind of woman you are, and I respect you for not being cut out for an affair with no promises attached. What I want with you isn’t so simple or cheap. See, I have an appetite that hasn’t been fed in some time because I’ve become rather particular. You suit my tastes and they’re…unique.”

Hesitantly, she whispered, “Perverted?”

He considered that. “I don’t think so, but I suppose it’s a subjective opinion. I’d never want you to do something you didn’t enjoy. Like I said, that’s not my style, and besides, it would defeat my purpose.”

“Which is?”

“To explore each other. No expectations, nothing to lose, the field wide open—between our legs and, where it gets really interesting…in the mind.”

Chris tried to absorb what he was saying. An affair, unique tastes, exploration. It began to fall into place and she realized he’d left something out.
Discovery.
But discovery meant change, and change was often threatening.

“Does this mean if I want to see you again, you have some expectations, after all? That if I simply want to take in a movie and enjoy your company, it’s a no-go?”

“We can go wherever you want and talk until the conversation
runs dry. But it’ll always come back to this.” This, where he pressed himself against her and remained with a still pressure. “I want this with you too much. You deserve to know I won’t play fair, that I’ll press every button you’ve got to get what I want.”

“You’re warning me, that seems pretty fair.”

“Not hardly. It’s strategy.” He shook his head with a laugh that wasn’t really. “What I wouldn’t give to be the kind of man you could love as much as you did your husband.”

“No man, Greg,
no man
is worth loving that much again. I’ll never let it happen,” she vowed. “It’s taken me too long to find my way out. I won’t be setting myself up for another fall.”

“But you’ll remarry, won’t you?”

“I hope so. You might like living alone, but I don’t. I’m a nester and I’d like another child before my time clock runs out. The problem is finding a man who doesn’t expect too much emotionally and can settle for what I can give.”

“Lets me out. I could never be that man any more than the one who spoiled you for the likes of me. You’ll meet someone, though. Someone willing to just ‘settle.’ I doubt you’ll be happy, but maybe you’ll be satisfied with the lucky bastard who wins the girl I let get away twice.”

“Thank God I’m not in love with you.” Tracing the line of his thinned lips, she was honest about the threat he posed: “You’re everything I’m not looking for and I think you could still break my heart.”

“Mine’s already broken. You’re everything a man could want and fall in love with way too easy. You’re poison, baby. Pretty poison for someone like me.”

It was, without doubt, the sexiest compliment she’d ever received. But from whom? The more she learned about him, it seemed, the less she knew.

“And what are you like, Greg?”

“I’m not so sure if I want you to know.” His gaze locked with hers while she waited him out. “All right, then.
There’s a good dose of anger, even some hurt, but I bury all that in my work. I’ve dished out my share of heartache and moved on while doing what it takes to climb up the ladder. I like being top dog, power’s my fix. I try not to abuse it, but I have. Sometimes regretting it, but never when the means are worth the end. I know what and who I am, and make no excuses either way. I’m not a bad person but I do have some critical flaws. Now that you have more goods on me than most, will you see me tomorrow night? We both know the score.”

He’d told her more than she wanted to hear. The score was: There was a lot more at stake than what she was ready to risk. Maybe Greg wouldn’t break her heart, but he’d make sure she never forgot him. Once she hooked up with an altogether–decent man who made a model father, she’d have more than one ghost to deal with in and out of bed. One was dead, but as long as the other was alive, one chance meeting could pull the rug from under her firmly planted feet. No matter how much she had, that’s all it would take for her to know she didn’t have it all.