For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9)

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For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9) Page 18

by Brenna Aubrey


  She tilted her head to the side, considering. “Okay and so…?”

  “I think we should make our own list. You and I should sit down thoughtfully and work it out together. Our ways to reconnect. And once we’ve made it, we should commit to using it. As you said, our lifestyle right now is hectic, even if it is temporary. But you took that initial rate-your-marriage quiz for a reason, and I made that first infamous list for the same reason.”

  She cut her meat and then chewed, staring into the candlelight. Twin flames smoldered in her eyes as she mulled over the idea.

  Then, once she’d swallowed, she nodded. “I like it. We should do it. Our own personalized reconnection list.”

  “Okay, may I propose the first bullet point? Let’s not rob each other of our much-needed electronics…” My voice faded into a teasing smile.

  “You just got me on board with your plan. Now you already seek to threaten it.”

  I shrugged. “I had to try.”

  She scooped up her wineglass and drank deeply. “We are not amused.”

  “You’re a little amused. Admit it, you just like to torture me.”

  A smile tugged at her mouth and a knowing gaze. “Oh Mr. Drake, if you want torture, I know much better ways.” She set her drink aside and turned back to me, her voice lowering with intensity. “For example… I could strap you down—”

  I leaned forward on my elbows. “Now you have my attention—”

  “—In front of a TV and play The Last Jedi on endless repeat.”

  I cringed, pressing a fist to the center of my chest. “Please, God, no. That’s not the kind of torture I want from you.”

  Her sexy mouth twisted. “There’s more where that came from.”

  I snickered. “You make it hurt so good.”

  Her brow arched. “Of course. This is the way.”

  We laughed and finished our main course while we kept talking, tossing out ideas for the list—some serious, many joking.

  “Please do not put hold hands and stare into each other’s eyes on the list or I will gag,” she said. Then she thanked our server, who cleared the plates and refilled our water glasses.

  Once dessert was served—a rich salted caramel panna cotta encased by a chocolate sphere painted gold and garnished with marshmallow creme—our server bid us farewell. Before doing so, she indicated the location of an emergency services button and satellite phone should we need anything urgently. But otherwise, we were on our own and miles from any other human beings for the night.

  “All joking aside,” Emilia said as she considered the remains of her dessert after claiming she was too full for any more. “I honestly think a list that we come up with together is a really good idea. We should maybe have a little routine, or if you will, a ritual, something we do when you get back from being away on a work trip. Even if it’s a simple as unplugging and watching movies in the theater room or going for a long walk and talking. Mindfulness. Making sure we are both present. And I’m not pointing fingers at you and the phone thing. You already know how I feel about that. I admit I do it, too—bury myself in my study materials instead of taking time out for a simple conversation or whatever.”

  I reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m not going to get cocky or complacent, but I think we have the beginnings of an amazing plan. Complacency is the enemy. We’ll make a pact to keep working at this, okay?”

  Her smile widened and she reached up to take my other hand across the table. Our eyes met and we sat there quietly staring at each other and holding hands.

  Suddenly she jerked back. “Holy shit are we actually doing it spontaneously? Holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes?”

  I couldn’t help it. The look of mock horror in her eyes made me laugh even harder.

  “So enough of that… on to the good stuff! Anniversary presents.” She rubbed her hands together. She pulled out the bag we’d brought with us and set two wrapped gifts on the table.

  “I’m not sure we can do this every year because I gotta tell you that my creativity was taxed to the limit trying to figure out what I could possibly get for a billionaire that he couldn’t just get for himself.” I arched a brow and she held up a hand as if to stave off whatever pervy comment was about to come out of my mouth. “Besides sexual stuff.”

  She waved her hand. “You go first. I’ve been so excited for you to open it I almost gave it to you early.”

  “Well, now I’m intrigued, though it’s a little too small to be hot lingerie for you to model for me later. Unless it’s extra-skimpy.”

  As she shook her head, rolled her eyes, and otherwise feigned annoyance at my sexual innuendos, I picked it up, pretended to shake it.

  “Just open it already!” she growled, and I laughed.

  When I did, I pulled out a thick piece of card stock. It showed a rough sketch with a bold signature off to the side. It was by no means finished, and I tilted my head to the side, studying it, at first thinking it was maybe something William had started.

  The scene, however, looked familiar. Two figures sitting across the table from each other. One of them held a gun under the table, pointed at the other. No, not a gun. A blaster…

  Suddenly my level of excitement leapt. The signature in bold black sharpie leant it some authenticity.

  “Is this…?”

  “An original production sketch of Han Solo and Greedo in the Cantina from A New Hope. To commemorate the very serious discussion we had that night together in Amsterdam. Remember?”

  I laughed. “Of course I do. This is amazing. And is this signature—from the man himself?”

  She beamed, nodding proudly, quite pleased with herself. I didn’t blame her. This was a major coup. “This isn’t proof that Han shot first—a point I know is near and dear to your heart. Close enough, I guess?”

  I stood from the table and ducked around it to land a peck on her lips. “I love it. This is awesome. Thank you. It’s getting framed and put in my office immediately.”

  Then I nudged a small box toward her, a small white box tied with a red ribbon. “Time for you to open your gift.”

  Chapter 34

  Mia

  I was feeling very pleased with myself. Authentic memorabilia from the original trilogy was very hard to come by, even when you had the means to purchase it. And even though this had been paid for out of our joint bank account, I’d worked hard for this sucker. It had required hours of diligent research to track down. So when I made that purchase, I actually experienced a rush that must be what the thrill of the hunt is like.

  And now, seeing his reaction, I was even more pleased.

  He also had a self-satisfied smile on his face when he pushed the box with the prominent Cartier ribbon around it toward me.

  Biting my lip, I pulled the bow and opened the box. Inside was a single bangle in rose gold. Simple, classy. Lovely. I wasn’t big on showy jewelry but this was just my style. Understated.

  I began to pull it out of the box to slip it on my wrist when a small object fell out with the bangle. It looked like a teeny screwdriver.

  My brows raised. “What’s this? In case I need to fix it?”

  A mysterious smile played about Adam’s mouth. Hmmm. He was up to something. He held out his hand. “Give it to me and I’ll show you.”

  I handed him the miniature screwdriver and he pointed to the bangle, so I passed him that as well. It was thin and delicate, and now that I noticed it, four small diamonds and what looked like screws inscribed on the outside. I frowned, tilting my head to study it before realizing that Adam had taken the tiny screwdriver and was actually using it on one of the screw-like fastenings.

  He held up one half of the circlet and showed me the engraving inside. EKS + AD = Nat 20 and then our wedding date engraved inside. In spite of the fact that I so wasn’t an ooey gooey sentimental and he knew it damn well, tears immediately sprang to my eyes so that I couldn’t see anything through the blurriness.

  He’d written that ex
act same thing on a padlock and affixed it at the top of the Eiffel Tower when we’d visited Paris. We’d been on shaky ground then. I was still recovering from cancer. Everything had seemed so fragile, uncertain. As far as I knew, that lock was still hanging there, in the middle of Paris. A statement to our love.

  A sudden lump formed in my throat thinking of all the things we’d been through. The good, the amazing, and also the very sad. But in spite of it all, we’d fought, and we’d won. And we were a Natural 20—that magical gamer term from the roll of a dice, the ultimate geek symbol of winning.

  Tonight, we’d made the decision to never get complacent in our relationship. But I held the enduring belief that if we’d survived such tough times already, we were meant to last the duration.

  I blinked, pulled from those thoughts by the cold touch of metal against my wrist. One of his large, strong hands was wrapped around mine, holding it still. His thumb stroked the thin, sensitive skin there and I shivered. In his other hand, Adam turned the screwdriver to tighten the screw holding the bracelet together around my wrist.

  “Nat 20…” I smiled. “Why not just say we pwn?”

  “We do pwn. We are the ultimate gamer couple, after all.”

  I laughed. Another joke between us using that popular gaming slang that meant utterly defeating the opposition.

  Adam tapped the metal band on my wrist. “I picked this out for the symbolism.”

  I sucked in a quick breath, taken with the erotic gesture of this moment of his holding me here, his wedding ring gleaming in the low light on the hand that held my arm steady. The act of him fixing it onto me. I swallowed, aware of everywhere I could feel my own heartbeat—in my throat, all through my body.

  “This is a love bracelet,” he said quietly. “It locks onto your arm with the screwdriver and screws,” Adam explained.

  “Subtle symbolism there.” I examined it on my wrist once he’d finished. It was elegant, gorgeous. He still held my wrist tightly in his hand and I looked up, meeting his gaze, finding it hard to breathe. When I spoke, even I could hear the breathiness in my own voice. “Is this a socially acceptable handcuff? Are you handcuffing me?” I arched a brow.

  He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my palm and the inside of my wrist without taking his eyes from mine. “You’re getting me hard just talking about it.”

  I bit my lip. “I guess I don’t need to bother changing into the little something I brought with me, then?”

  His eyes smoldered into mine, and he shifted in his chair. “Yes, I think you definitely do need to bother.”

  In minutes, I emerged from the bathroom into the stylish, candlelit bedroom wearing the now infamous Agent Provocateur lingerie I’d originally procured for our wedding night. With the shimmering fine chains and little gold medallions hanging from a barely-there framework, it covered hardly anything at all. This was our modern take on the chain mail bikinis I’d repeatedly teased him about all those years ago.

  What had once been my big pet peeve about Dragon Epoch had become our sexy little in-joke.

  “Oh damn.” His eyes lit up. “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see that again. Hello, my old friend.”

  With a cheeky grin, I held out my arms and spun slowly for him. “You like?”

  “Come here and I’ll show you exactly how much I like it.”

  Our bedroom for the night was dominated by a lovely canopied and curtained four poster bed in dark, heavy wood. The huge picture window looked out across an empty field towards the mountains. Adam stood near that window and had been looking out of it when I’d entered. His jacket and tie had been shed, his shirt partially unbuttoned.

  When I came within arm’s reach, he pulled me against him and our mouths met in fiery union. He tasted like chocolate and red wine and smelled that salty ocean smell that was his scent alone.

  My body came alive the moment his tongue slid into my mouth, and we were both breathing heavily seconds after that. But he broke away, surprisingly, to point out the window. “Look. There was a small chance we might be able to see something tonight…”

  I turned in his arms, my back to his front, and he settled me there to lean against him. Up along the crest of the mountains against the sky, there was a faint green glow. “Is that…?”

  “Aurora Borealis. Yup.”

  “Wow.” I rested my head against his shoulder and his arms tightened around me. I watched the dim lights for a long moment, enjoying the electric sensation of his mouth on my neck at the juncture of my shoulder. My entire body heated, and I felt heavy, tense, my nipples and my core awakening.

  “Happy New Year, Mrs. Drake,” he whispered as he made his way up my neck to my ear, his hands roaming my body freely, sliding up my hips, my waist, to cup my breasts through the lingerie. The metallic discs pressed against my erect nipples, creating an explosion of sensation.

  I let out a long moan, and he pressed himself closer, his erection prodding into my backside. I reached up behind me and hooked my arms around his neck to hold him there.

  Inside, all sensation was molten, taut, each touch, each kiss felt across the entire surface of my skin. I turned in his arms, and between frantic kisses, I unbuttoned that crisp white shirt. I needed to feel his skin against mine.

  “Happy anniversary, Mr. Drake,” I breathed.

  He’d turned a screw and locked the gift bracelet onto my arm but in truth, the lock that held me captive to him was one that couldn’t be seen—couldn’t be freed. His key and my lock, combined together sealed a love and the palpable chemistry between us into something no mechanism could reverse.

  Soon enough, I had his clothes off. As slowly as I could manage, I sank to my knees in front of him. His breathing stuttered. Without hesitation, I took his cock into my mouth. The breath hissed completely out of him, his stance going rigid, eyes squeezing closed. Always my favorite part. I loved watching Adam struggle to maintain control. while inevitably having it slip through his fingers. I loved being the one to cause it.

  My mouth slid down his shaft, taking him deeper, and my reward came quickly—the growl deep in his throat. I felt it everywhere, from the prickling of my scalp, the frissons all over my skin, the molten heat between my legs.

  He threaded his hands through my hair, holding my head still, even as I’d sought to quicken my pace. I struggled against his hold, but he pulled away from me, and with one gruff, swift gesture, he picked me up, took two steps, and tossed me roughly on the bed.

  I stared up at him, shocked and momentarily breathless. Dark eyes drilled into mine, arms taught, hands clenched. “I need to fuck you, damn it. I can’t wait another second.”

  I licked my lips, smiled, and then spread myself out deliberately for him without saying a word, stretching my arms above my head to touch the headboard, opening my legs. I waited.

  His eyes scoured me from head to toe, scorching the flesh wherever they roamed. “I am the luckiest man on the planet, and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it.”

  “Come here,” I echoed his words to him.

  He held up a finger and disappeared into the other room. I lay back and stared up at the ceiling, idly fiddling with the thin bangle bracelet. The image of him locking it on me caused a surge of arousal. Maybe we should try handcuffs sometime…

  Adam had been gone for a while…

  I mean, longer than it should have taken for him to grab a handful of the little foil packets from the bag we’d brought with us and get back here.

  What the…?

  I propped my self up on my elbows and called into the next room. This wasn’t a big cabin, after all. “What’s the holdup?”

  A second later, he appeared in the doorway in all of his naked glory. Mmmm. My husband was so gorgeous. Especially when he was naked. But the stricken look on his face? A little worrying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find the condoms.”

  “Did you look in the pockets? That bag has a lot of pockets.”

 
; He sighed, running a hand through his hair and approaching the bed. “Yes. I checked the pockets.”

  “There’s an inside pocket that’s zipped closed. Did you check that?”

  “Yes. I said I checked all the pockets.”

  “Could it be—”

  “I dumped the entire bag on the floor and looked through everything, Emilia. There are no condoms.”

  “Well… shit. I’m sorry I thought I threw some in there. Or maybe I was just assuming you would? It was such a crazy day.”

  He sighed. “I guess I did the same thing. It’s nobody’s fault.”

  I flopped back on the bed and he sat down beside me. I reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing my fingers with his. As a survivor of hormone-dependent breast cancer, I was banned for life from using any sort of hormonal birth control. That left us only two options—barrier methods or a non-hormonal IUD I’d been reluctant to choose. I wasn’t comfortable with that option because of the level of invasiveness or possible complications it might pose.

  Adam had never said a word about my decision—nor would he ever be the sort of man to pressure me to use an option I wasn’t comfortable with. We’d done well with condoms as our option of choice.

  I curled my fingers around his and tugged him toward me. “We don’t need them. We can do other stuff just as fun.”

  He moved with my tug to lie down beside me. “That sounds interesting.” He was smiling, but I detected a slight tinge of frustration. One hand slid under the metallic discs of the lingerie to rest on my belly.

  We kissed, long and slow our hands finding the familiar places we knew the other liked to be touched. Skin warmed against skin. We kissed and touched and moved. And soon the chain mail bikini was history, a shimmery puddle on the floor. And our passion was reigniting that fire that had never truly gone out. Just paused.

  My eyes fluttered closed, and I couldn’t resist the pull and ache of how much I wanted him inside me. How much I wanted to feel his weight on top of me. I threaded a leg through his. And in between kisses, I dribbled out the idea that was forming in my head.

 

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