Slice of Pi 2 (22 page)

“Make me come,” she said, more a plea than a demand, the dynamics all askew between them in ways that were confusing and wonderful.

Owen stopped moving inside her and took her legs down off his shoulder, letting them part to each side of his hips, before bending over to prop himself up on the bed and resume thrusting. He was so close like this, his breath on her skin, his chest pressed against her breasts. He used his leverage from standing to fuck her
hard
, almost brutally, driving into her over and over again. So close, god, so damn close, and then he kissed her. His kiss was hot, openmouthed, passionate, and she kissed back, wanting more, wanting all of it. She felt him shift, then his hand was down between them, fingers pressing awkwardly into her clit. The pressure was enough, and before Iris could even prepare, her climax exploded through her, pleasure riding the knife edge of pain, sharp and fierce. Owen broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, their gazes locked as she came, watching her as she shattered around him. When she sagged, relaxing, he stopped moving and held still to catch his breath, closing his eyes and visibly straining.

“I want you to come,” Iris said, and Owen smiled in what was unmistakably relief.

He stood upright and began moving inside her again, his thrusts urgent, holding her hips with both hands in a bruising grip. When he came, he threw his head back, hips stuttering to a halt as he pulsed inside her. He was beautiful like this, deep in the throes of orgasm. She loved seeing his ecstasy, feeling like she was privy to this beautiful, private moment. As he sagged, his cock slipping from her, she felt a pang of loss that had nothing to do with the physical sensation: there was an expiration date on their play. After next weekend, when she found him someone better, they'd be through.

Owen looked down at Iris, sweaty and content, and then bent over and dropped a kiss on her nose. Iris tipped her head back to catch the next kiss on her lips. Owen paused, surprise in his expression, then kissed her back slowly and deeply. He broke the kiss to stand again. As he cleaned up, he started chuckling. “I feel like I need another shower now. I'm going to smell like sex for your work party.”

“It's okay. Let them wonder.” Iris pushed herself upright. She felt stretched and happy. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was already after five. “I haven't even asked you about your costume.”

Owen rubbed his chin. “I had a hard time finding something, and the costume shop was picked pretty clean, so I ended up scrounging up some pirate garb from one of their discount bins. I'd rather have put together something more elaborate, but there wasn't much time.”

“I'm sure a pirate will be perfect. I'm going as Andromeda, if you haven't ruined my hair during that particularly exciting romp back there
.
” Iris took a minute to check her curls in the mirror. Fortunately they'd survived the sex mostly intact, and she started pulling items out of her bag.

“No way, really? Like mythology,
Clash of the Titans
Andromeda? My costume's going to look so weak next to that.” Owen pulled on a pair of underwear. “You should have warned me yours was going to be awesome.”

Iris laid the items out on the bed that she was going to wear, the toga and laurel wreath and sash. “Andromeda is not a very hard costume. It's all about the makeup and hair, and a toga. Anybody can do a toga.” She started getting dressed. “Now come on, pirate. We've got a party to get to.”

---

Going out at night when it was actually dark out, meeting new people, mingling and making conversation, all the possibilities of tonight's Halloween party excited Owen. Plus, he was looking forward to meeting Iris's coworkers. He'd made a batch of really gorgeous gourmet candy apples for the occasion, too, and whether because of Iris or because of the apples, he was welcomed with open arms when they arrived at the VFW hall where the party was being held.

“Iris! Iris's date! Come on in!” The person who opened the door for them, a guy dressed like Peter Pan, was as unfamiliar to Owen as almost everyone else at the party. He introduced himself as Anton, the receptionist, and Owen laughed.

“So they're making you greet people at the parties, too?” Owen handed off his tray of apples to Anton, who chuckled as well.

“Nah, I just like it. Probably why I'm the receptionist. Nice costume, by the way.” Anton set the apples aside, and Iris steered Owen away to meet more people.

Iris led him immediately over to an attractive, curvy Latina woman dressed in a long blue skirt with a white top and blue jacket. Owen had no idea who she was supposed to be dressed as, but Iris started squealing as soon as she saw her, apparently forgetting about introducing Owen in her excitement.

“Oh my god! You look fantastic!” Iris said as Isabel got to her feet. “You're Elizabeth from
BioShock,
right?”

“Yes!” Isabel nodded. “I was going to put all my hair up under a wig, but it wouldn't fit, so I hoped the costume would be enough.” She tossed her curls, which Owen imagined would be difficult to fit under any kind of wig. The woman's eyes fell on Owen. “Who's this, Iris?” There was a bit of mischief in her tone.

“Oh! I'm so sorry. I got caught up in your costume. Isabel, this is Owen.” Iris's introduction sounded casual, almost disinterested, and Owen felt a twinge of disappointment at her dismissive tone. “Owen, this is Isabel. She's the design manager at PI Games. Owen owns Sugar Rush, the bakery.”

Isabel's eyes lit up. “Really? So you made the candy apples? The ones with the chocolate and caramel and all that? My god, they look incredible.” She made a face that looked more at home in the bedroom than at a party. “Fuck it. If there are any left over after the party, I'm stealing them.”

“I hope they taste as good as they look.” Owen smiled.

Isabel was joined by a man in Victorian garb, including a gray vest and a red cravat. Iris's exclamation suggested that he was probably also dressed as some kind of character from a game Owen had never played. “Booker DeWitt, right?” Iris took a minute to admire his costume, the details of which were lost on Owen. “Look at you two together. So cute.” Her smile faltered for a moment, and if Owen hadn't been watching her, he never would have noticed. Recovering quickly, she turned to Owen. “Owen, this is Caleb. Isabel's boyfriend. He's also our creative manager.”

“Good to meet you, Caleb.” Owen shook Caleb's hand.

Caleb looked between him and Iris, but didn't ask any questions about how they knew each other. Apparently he was just going to be “Owen” tonight. He shouldn't expect more, though—he might want to be more than just “Owen,” but Iris was resisting, as he should have known she would. What did he really expect, though? For her to call him her boyfriend? Of course she'd avoid any labels that spoke of commitment and permanence. As far as he knew, she was still one foot out the door.

His temporary disappointment eased at the sight of a familiar, portly man hurrying over to them, all smiles and excitement. He recognized Will, the owner of PI Games, along with his wife, Gwen. God, had it been only a month since he'd made their wedding cake? It felt like forever since they'd first been in his shop for cake tastings.

“Owen! Our favorite pastry proprietor.” Will shook his hand enthusiastically. He was wearing a shirt with dice on it and a pair of jeans. “You remember my wife, Gwen.” Gwen was dressed in 1950s attire, complete with poodle skirt, a much more recognizable costume than whatever Will was supposed to be. “Owen, the apples are a huge hit. Absolutely wonderful.” He turned to Iris. “You hang on to this one, Iris. He'll keep you well fed.”

Iris shook her head and laughed, her discomfort evident. “Oh, Owen's just a friend.”

Will shrugged and, undeterred, gestured to his attire. “I'll give you a plus-one to initiative if either of you can guess who I am.”

Owen shook his head, but Iris answered “Gary Gygax” immediately.

“Very good! Very good.” Will chuckled. “I've hired the right people. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get seconds at the buffet before all the good food is gone.”

“Lovely to see you again, Owen,” Gwen said with a beaming smile as her husband led her away. Owen couldn't help but smile back, except when he looked over at Iris, who was watching them go with unmistakable wistfulness.

“Hey.” Owen nudged her. “What's wrong?”

Iris shook her head. “Nothing.” She looked back over at Will as he walked away. “You have no idea who Gary Gygax is, do you?”

“Nope.” Owen let her change the subject.

“He invented
Dungeons & Dragons
.” Iris adjusted the shoulder strap on her toga. She looked gorgeous as Andromeda, her hair gathered up on top of her head in an elaborate pile of curls. He could look at her like this all night. When she looked back at him, she was smiling, all of her earlier sadness gone. “You don't strike me as the type of guy who games a lot.”

“Well, you don't exactly seem like the kind of girl who would play a lot of games, either.” He raised his eyebrows. “Except in the bedroom, of course.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she laughed, put at ease by the topic. “Well, naturally. That's my wheelhouse, right there.” She gestured to the buffet table. “Come on. Let's get some food, too, and find a table.”

The party was laid back and fun, with more food than he could eat and a cash bar. Word got around that Owen was responsible for the candy apples, which resulted in a steady stream of people coming up to introduce themselves and compliment the goodies. Owen met the entire staff over the course of the next hour. Isabel and Caleb joined them at their table, as did Matthew, who Iris introduced as one of the programmers.

“So how do you know Iris here?” Matthew reached over to throw an arm around Iris's shoulders for a quick squeeze, which made Iris sit up in surprise. Before Owen had time to answer, Matthew continued. “Do you know about her art? I had no idea this woman was so talented, and here I've been bugging her about payroll for years.”

Iris blushed and ducked her head, which was completely adorable.

“I do know about her art, yes.” Owen looked at Iris, with her lovely flushed cheeks. “She has paintings and drawings all over the walls of her house, and I asked about them. I'm glad she applied for the art position.”

Caleb jumped in. “Yeah, me, too. Her style is going to be perfect for this game.”

Iris looked down at the table, but she seemed pleased, smiling shyly. Seeing Iris shy at all was incongruous. Owen only saw her like this on the subject of her art. She seemed so different from the confident professional woman he assumed she was at work, or the sexually self-assured Domme who ordered him to his knees.

Matthew nodded. “Iris, you've been hiding these skills. Next we're going to find out you're a professional gamer with a Twitch stream and sponsors.”

Iris laughed. “Okay, I wouldn't go that far. But yeah, I do game.”

“See? I knew it. What are you playing right now? You do any MMOs?” Matthew leaned in, all interest, and Owen liked seeing Iris blossom under this attention, even if he didn't understand any of what was being said.

“I play
Final Fantasy
now and then, but I'm really into puzzles and survival mostly.” Iris turned to face Matthew, all eagerness now. “I played
Don't Starve
nonstop last month. Right now I'm really into
Kerbal Space Program.
”

“Fuck
Kerbal
, man, that game drives me crazy!” Matthew laughed. “I cannot get my spaceships to launch. I get back into it every so often and play for, like, a week straight, and then I get so frustrated I have to play something else.” He pulled out his phone. “Console or PC? You have an Xbox Gamertag?”

“Just PC right now,” Iris said. “I'll give you my Steam ID, though, if you want.”

“Yeah, definitely. We'll need to play sometime.” Matthew turned to Owen. “This woman is a catch. How did you say you know her again?”

“She comes into my bakery now and then.” Owen glanced at Iris, deciding to answer the question literally rather than address the nature of their current relationship, such as it was. “But we met for the first time face-to-face on the morning after Will and Gwen's wedding, when she was so desperate for a croissant that she came in before we were open.”

The table laughed, Iris along with them. “He's right.” She reached over to squeeze his hand, but then snatched it back right away. Maybe she didn't want to appear so intimate.

“And you've been dating since then?” Isabel asked, glancing between the two of them.

Iris looked up at Owen, her expression troubled. “We're not really . . .”

Owen jumped in. “It's nothing serious. Just two friends hanging out.” He hated saying it, hated returning to this limbo every time Iris had to confront the possibility of more than casual sex. What he didn't hate, not by any stretch, was Iris. He liked her, more than a friend, more than just a Domme, more than he should. Taking her hand, he got to his feet and pulled her up with him. “Come on. Let's go dance.” He wanted to feel Iris in his arms and pretend there was something more between them than what she would allow, even if he had to keep lying at every turn about being only friends. Tonight, he could hold her against him and pretend they had a future.

---

On the drive back to Owen's house, Iris stared out the window at the passing streetlights. It was after eleven, and while Owen had managed to hang on much later than she'd expected, he'd eventually asked that they call it a night. In the hubbub of the party she'd let herself get swept up in the fun of dancing and laughter, and the silence of the car felt much more sobering. She remembered the ache of watching Will and Gwen together, their happiness that she never thought she'd have for herself, she who was completely inept at relationships. Next to her, Owen drove them both through the velvety night, oblivious to the internal turmoil Iris was going through.