Playing Pretend Box Set

by Natasha L. Black

  His hands skated over me, as if the water between our skin had shifted something in him. As if he had to learn every part of me all over again. His hands massaged every inch of me: hips, waist, breasts. Then he knelt, and his kiss went straight to the mole on my lower thigh. I trembled.

  He smelled like fresh rain and the cologne I was unfamiliar with, but crazy about. The steam lifted his scent to me, driving me wild.

  This was crazy. We were. We'd already stripped each other down, laughing, groaning…

  Now I waited, my hips raised, aching for him to finally, inevitably, get to where this had all been leading to.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  Between the water, my body’s eagerness and… Ugh.

  He swept into me, his cock filling me. Our bodies connected with a slap and my wetness enveloped him. The frantic energy that he’d been filled with stopped suddenly. He slowed, halted. The way we fit made us both crumble into the tile wall. Everything was still.

  Then, he twitched, and just like that, his hunger was invigorated. His arm wrapped around my hips, the other moving my arms above my head and, holding me tight, he thrusted into me. Over and over, he jackhammered me.

  I screamed, squirmed, writhed, and tried to escape as I came faster and harder than I ever had before.

  Worse than I ever had before, but better.

  It didn’t stop. I just kept coming, or riding out one extended orgasm, I wasn’t sure. I just knew his body, owning me. Dominating me.

  I came so many times I lost track. It seemed completely normal, at this point, that each thrust of his perfect cock caused a new surge of orgasms—shockwave after shockwave coursing through my body.

  But none of this was normal. Not the way we were like magnets, coming together, driven until fused, locking into this one insane want. It was an instinct guiding itself, no matter what we wanted, forcing itself further until it got what it wanted, got what it needed and then...

  Giovanni was spilling into me. The pulsing and throbbing of his ejaculation caused me to gush onto him in tandem. We contorted against each other, folding, staying connected as the spasms of blinding pleasure caused us to collapse onto the bottom of the tub, panting.

  I still wanted more. I needed it. My body could barely move, but…

  We lay there, holding each other, and I could feel him stiffening, still buried inside me.

  Fuck yes. More.

  My eyes rolled back and then closed, as he began moving his lean, hard body against me, fucking me again and again, deeper and deeper.

  We shifted into different positions, trying to satisfy all of our bodies’ urges. He made me feel like a rag doll, lifting and moving my legs, turning me over, finding better and deeper ways to fill me. And me, kissing, tugging, fondling, grabbing—what I was trying to achieve, I had no idea. I was putty. The need to exhaust, satisfy, and quell this want that seemed insatiable was growing. Giovanni was a machine. The tub was unmoving and my body…

  He came again, with finality, roaring and lifting his torso triumphantly above me, his hand pressed into my lower back. I think I came too, my body in such a state of bliss I couldn’t really tell.

  Finally, we lay in the tub again, too tired to move, and drifted off.

  24

  Giovanni

  I needed a new bed.

  When did this get so hard, cold and... Wet?

  My eyes fluttered open.

  Hm. Perhaps I'd been a bit critical of my bed, considering I was actually sprawled out in my bathtub. Kandice was curled in a ball beside me, sleeping peacefully.

  I stifled my laugh, not wanting to wake her.

  Sure, I'd woken up in a bathtub before, alone, hungover, regrets floating around me, but this was an entirely different circumstance. This time I couldn't even chalk it up to being drunk. Though I had been intoxicated... Just of a different sort.

  Ah, Kandice. Radiant in the bathroom's morning glow, the sun spilling in the window and down from the skylights. The light glinted off the mirror, shower, and tile. I could barely keep my hands off her, remembering last night. Instead, I tried to carefully extricate myself without waking her to my stiffening erection.

  After all, it had gotten more than it had wanted last night. It had gotten five times and over.

  I couldn't remember the last time I’d had such stamina or been in such a frenzy of love-making, at least not since my early twenties.

  Even then, it hadn't been the same. It hadn't been as good, or as much, or...

  Kandice was...

  I walked out of the bathroom, shaking my head before I could finish the thought.

  Last night was still whirling in my mind, like a carousel moving too quickly.

  I'd told her about Gino in the limo, but she hadn’t opened up about why she’d stopped our last phone call so abruptly. Someone had clearly been at the door; why won’t she tell me who? There was more to the story than that. I made a mental note to find out.

  Opening the fridge, I discovered that I had just the right amount of oatmeal to get something started. Normally, I would have opted for eggs and bacon, but hadn’t had time to restock since getting back from China. No matter.

  I started the coffee and pulled out the ingredients for breakfast.

  This morning would be a testament to Kandice's flexibility with food... Or not.

  Besides, this wasn't just name-brand oatmeal. I cooked it all myself—Mama Bruno's special recipe. It involved a good helping of cinnamon, a small pinch of sugar (so that it’s not too healthy, I could hear Mama saying in my head), and enough raisins to make a squirrel proud. Then, the secret ingredient: applesauce.

  Who knows why it worked? All I knew was that it transformed a breakfast staple that was once unpalatable into something that I looked forward to.

  Just as I was finishing up, I heard footsteps.

  Kandice looked adorably ruffled, wearing one of my t-shirts. It was just long enough to reach her upper thighs, the modesty ridiculously erotic.

  Yeah, my girl looked damn good.

  "Is that..." she said.

  I ladled some into a bowl and walked it over to her. "It's oatmeal, try it."

  "I don't really..."

  I pressed the spoon against her lips and, after blowing on it, she took a bite. She paused, considering the taste. "That is not oatmeal."

  "It is," I said.

  She was still shaking her head. "No, nope. Oatmeal does not taste good. That tastes good."

  I smirked triumphantly. "Yep, Bruno family recipe."

  Kandice licked the remaining crumbs off the edges of her lips.

  "I take it that you'll be having more?" I asked.

  "Just five bowls or so," she said, smiling mischievously, sipping the coffee I’d prepared for her.

  "Speaking of five…" I said, pausing to find a way to segue the conversation toward our phone call, then giving up. "What happened last night? You got off the phone so quickly."

  Kandice's face assumed a weary expression, as if we were ending our day and not starting it. "Do you really have to know?"

  "Yeah," I said. "I told you about Gino.”

  An ironic smile appeared on Kandice's face as she dug into her oatmeal.

  "So that's why you told me."

  "You got me," I said. "And?"

  Kandice made sure she took her time to enjoy a few bites of oatmeal before indulging me. "It was the police."

  The spoonful I had been maneuvering toward my mouth faltered.

  "What? You didn't think you should tell me? Why? What were they doing there?"

  "I was going to tell you," Kandice said quickly. "I just... Wanted to figure it out first."

  "What was there to figure out?"

  "Oh, I don't know. That somehow the police knew to show up at the hotel room that’s in your name to ask me about the pen name I stopped using in Shanghai?"

  "How would they even..." I began.

  Kandice shook her head. "No idea. They just said something about it being an orde
r from a higher up, and..."

  "Of course," I said, shaking my head. "Peter Khan, that sneaky bastard."

  "You know him?" she said, surprised.

  "Not well," I confessed. "We just run in some of the same circles, is all. He likes to exert his influence as often as possible. I'm not surprised that he's pissed you left Shanghai."

  "What could he even do to me here?" Kandice wondered. "It's not illegal to write an article about a corrupt businessman in another country, is it?"

  "No," I admitted. "But Peter could make your life very difficult if he wanted to." I ground my teeth together. "I can solve this, though. As I said, he runs in some of the same circles. I might be able to do something. Talk to some people."

  "You didn't think to mention this before?" Kandice demanded.

  "At what point, Kandice, would I have known it was serious enough to have taken these measures? You don’t talk to me. I had hoped the problem would be solved by you leaving China," I argued. "I don't like to use my business connections for personal affairs, and never have. But for this, I'll have to make an exception. This is getting out of hand."

  The color drained from Kandice's face, but she nodded, nonetheless. "Thank you."

  After that, the mood had shifted.

  Maybe Kandice had finally woken up, but whatever the reason, the easy smile that had been on her face was now gone.

  "I should go," she said after she'd finished her oatmeal. "Thank you, it was delicious. But I should get back to job hunting, plus I have an article I need to write for the National Post, so I should get to work on that."

  "The National Post? Nice," I said. "How did you land that one?"

  "I don't even know, honestly," she admitted. "Just an old colleague of mine, who has always really liked my work."

  She was halfway to the bedroom door when I had an idea.

  "Kandice," I said, following her a few steps. "No pressure, but if you want, you could stay here. I mean, it's a Sunday, so I don't have to go into the office, but I always have extra work I can do from home. We could just do our own thing. I have my office, you could use the desk in the living room..." I trailed off as she mulled it over.

  "I don't know..." she said.

  "What?" I asked softly.

  Kandice turned to face me, her feet set apart in a defensive stance. "What is this, Giovanni? What's going on between us?"

  Her eyes looked at me imploringly, as if she thought I had the answer but just wouldn’t tell her.

  I looked at her face, so sure in its uncertainty. So pained and unhappy, and I realized I wanted the answer myself.

  "I don't know," I said. "I wish I did."

  "Last night at the gallery, telling me all of that stuff about Gino. Then after, in the bathtub..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "The party is tomorrow, Giovanni," she said, her face changing with distaste as she remembered. "Our charade has to continue."

  I knew she expected me to refute something in what she'd said, something that I was supposed to respond to. Clarify. But I couldn't find the words or figure out exactly what would work.

  "See you, Giovanni," she said quietly, walking away.

  25

  Kandice

  Well, I might as well.

  The past day and a half had been one long string of tragic comedies. Unbelievable craziness. Things that normally only belonged in a sitcom. First, the National Post article fell through the minute I got back to the hotel. They'd claimed they had found another writer, one more suitable. Before that, of course, there was the situation with Giovanni and his utter inability to communicate.

  Now, my parents who were demanding to take me out for dinner, in fact, were coming into town to discuss things.

  Not tonight, no. Tomorrow, the very same night as the party I was trying to keep from them. When my excuses continued to fall deaf on my mother’s ears, I decided, screw it.

  "You're going to want to sit down for this," I told my mom over the phone.

  "Kandice," she replied in a warning tone. "What have you done now?"

  I realized then that a small part of me was going to enjoy this. Sure, the logical part would probably regret that later, but right now, my irritation was in charge. I was done.

  "Jin and I have been over for longer than I've let on," I began.

  Good. Not telling the truth, but not lying. I liked it.

  "During that time, I met someone." Okay, I was kind of doing okay at this.

  "Met someone," Mom said uncomprehendingly. "Walter! Get over here, your daughter apparently has a lot to tell us, something important."

  My heart fell.

  While it was one thing disappointing my overbearing mother, doing so to my goodhearted dad was another. It didn’t matter. I'd started down this road, so I might as well tell them.

  Giovanni would be appeased, too, having my parents show up. Maybe they would make such a scene that I wouldn't have to stay at the party for long. Guess I would have to see if my luck changed.

  "That's not a complete disaster," my mom said stiffly. "Although I assume you have a good reason for not telling us about this gentleman?"

  "Yeah, I suppose," I said. "I mean, he comes from a good family, is well off, and is well situated in his career but... I kind of married him a few days ago."

  Silence on the other end.

  "You what?" She squawked.

  "Yep, sorry, it just happened," I said, deadpan.

  "It just happened?" Mom shrilled, her voice getting louder and louder. I could hear my poor dad trying to calm her in the background, but it was no use.

  "How does a marriage just happen?" she yelled. "What about our five-year plan? What you told your father and I about taking it slow with Jin? You've been dating this man for, what? Half a year?"

  "Not even," I said dryly. "Our after-the-fact marriage celebration for friends and family is tomorrow, actually.”

  My mom garbled something unintelligible.

  "You guys don't have to come if you don't want to," I said. "But it’s why tomorrow doesn’t work. I mean, I almost didn't want to tell you because I knew this would happen. That this would be your reaction, before waiting to find out more details. Of course, I want you there, but I understand if you can't support us."

  "What is his name?" Mom asked, as if that would decide everything.

  "Giovanni Bruno," I said.

  "We will..." My mom said, tense. "See."

  I hung up.

  There, I'd done my daughterly duty. Right?

  At the end, I'd lied. Facts were facts, but my parents believed that you married someone you loved, and in that regard, I’d just lied. More or less. At any rate, I hadn’t loved Giovanni when I’d married him, and now… Who knows?

  The worst part was, I wasn't even sure why I’d blurted out the truth to my parents. My plan had been to keep them in the dark, at least for a few months, until I could get things sorted out. At least a job, an apartment, something stable to appease them.

  But the other day with Giovanni... Something in me had cracked. Gotten fed up. I was tired of hiding, ducking, and lying when I didn't need to.

  If Giovanni wanted to bolster this charade for his family, fine. I couldn’t keep my parents in the dark, but I didn’t need to gush about how in love we were, or how sure we were about each other. Even if it meant they blew up. Especially if it meant they blew up. Having to deal with their aftershock, reactions, or judgements now was one thing, but it was another thing entirely waiting for, and dreading, their reaction.

  Now I knew. Mom freaked out, as always. Dad would try, but fail, to calm her down. Who knows what comes next? Maybe she would take a few months and refuse to speak to me, like she had when I first insisted on living in Shanghai alone.

  But she would come around. We were family. Family stuck together.

  It made me wonder about Giovanni's party. He made a point of not noting how many guests would be attending.

  Didn't he mention there were something like 300 members in his extended fami
ly? Surely he wasn't going to invite them all and expect me to meet everyone, was he?

  The growling from my stomach let me know that I was getting hungry. Or, it was maybe protesting either the conversation I had just had, or the fact that I was about to embark on the performance of a lifetime at this party.

  I was about to call Jen when she beat me to it.

  "Great minds think alike," I said with a smile. "What's up?"

  "Is it okay if I bring Gino?" she asked.

  "Sure," I said. "As long as he's okay with the theme of uncertainty meets insanity."

  Jen made an exasperated sound. "What are you talking about?"

  "Just that I’m not sure what to expect at this party,” I said, “Then again, being in the dark keeps my anxiety at bay. Knowing what's coming might be worse."

  "Suit yourself," Jen said. "Me, I like to be prepared for whatever insanity is going to go down."

  "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough," I checked the time on my phone. "Speaking of, I should get going. I still don't know what to wear."

  "Kandice…" Jen said in a singsong voice.

  "Don't you have to go frolic in a park with Gino or something?" I protested.

  "Nope, I have to help my cosmetically challenged friend get ready for her engagement party!"

  "Fake engagement party," I reminded her. "Oh, and Mr. and Mrs. McArthur may be present, by the way."

  Jen's voice lost its strength briefly and she whispered, "You didn't."

  "Yep," I said. "I did. I threw myself to the wolves. I told them."

  "Not the truth, though?" Jen inquired.

  "No," I said quickly. "Just that I met Giovanni a few months ago, we got married, there’s a party, and it’s tonight..."

  "You thought that was the best approach?" Jen said.

  I sighed heavily. "No, now that you mentioned it. Mom predictably flipped out, Dad just tried to calm her down, as usual, but that was no use."

  "You don't think..." Jen began.

  "That they still might show up to the party?" I said. "Maybe, actually. Anyway, I don't want to think about it right now. So how about you get your butt over here and help me get ready? Unless you're going to run through all of the potential catastrophes that could happen with my parents involved."