The Gamble: A Novel

by Xavier Neal

  She remains silent even though I can tell she wants to say something.

  “And before you object and say that shit doesn't matter if I slept with someone after I got checked, I didn't. I haven't slept with anyone in a couple weeks.”

  Her eyes soften and she slides down into her seat.

  That's right. Haven't so much as touched someone else. I know Alexxa isn't the type of chick who would sleep with a guy who is already sleeping with a slew of other women, so...I figured the play would help build towards my win. What? No. That's....that's all. That's the only reason. Stop questioning the tone in my voice.

  I try to playfully lighten the situation. “See. Progress.”

  The corner of her lip tugs upward. “Just drive already. I'm fucking starving.”

  I start the car and pull out of her apartment complex. At the first stop light, I fiddle with Spotify on my phone before resting my hand on the gear shift. All of sudden there's a light nudge against it. Looking down I see Alexxa's hand cautiously searching for acceptance from mine while her attention lingers outside the window. A smirk crawls onto my face as I link our fingers together.

  Shit. What the fuck am I doing? And why the fuck does it feel even better than I imagined it would?

  Alexxa

  Flopping onto the couch I sigh, “He went to visit his parents again? Can't believe I'm not gonna see him this entire weekend.”

  We ended up switching tickets for a later show and grabbing dinner at this little whole in the wall Tex Mex place I love almost as much as the restaurant Warren works for. I may have had a couple margaritas to help ease the conscience about what happened earlier in the evening.

  “His brother is in town with his fiance,” Luca answers from his bedroom. “He didn't exactly have a choice.”

  “Saying no is always a choice.”

  Except when Luca Larson opens your shower door and demands to diddle you. Apparently when you say no, it means take over and put me at your mercy. Then again I didn't exactly say no...I didn't even say no in a suggestive form. Pretty much just fucking let him have me like the untouched virgin I am. Gag. Talk about the best humiliation I've ever had. What the hell is wrong with me lately? He just looks at me and my panties get wet and my pussy starts begging like a bitch in heat. Is this what he does to all women? Is this why they're all clawing at his front door to be let back in? Did he attend a 'How to Finger Fuck' seminar the minute he hit puberty?

  “You've met Warren's parents,” he grunts strolling into the room. “They don't give him a chance to say no. When it's about family shit, that's all that matters.”

  His words hit my ears, but my eyes are too busy absorbing the way his wife beater is clinging to his fresh out of the shower body, to reply.

  It's so wrong to be jealous of a fucking shirt. I've never been more envious of an article of clothing than I am in this very moment.

  Luca's mouth stops moving and twists into a grin.

  Cocky bastard....

  Clearing my throat, I reach for the remote, and try to redirect my attention to the television. “Did you remember to go to the grocery store?”

  “Nah.” He extends his arms around the back of the couch. “Game ran late.”

  “Sorry I couldn't make it. Now that my hours are non-existent in the office during the week, Ken demands face time on the weekends to compensate. You guys win?”

  “Barely,” he grumbles. “Foul shot at the end of the game is what put us over. It was pathetic.”

  I love how his eyes light up any time the mention of something athletic comes into the mix. There's something irresistible about the way passion pumps through his every reaction as he discusses trick plays or highlights from his favorite games. The grandiose tone he takes when verbally recounting a game. I may drown out most of the shit I don't understand, but it doesn't stop me from loving the elation he radiates.

  “Are you gonna keep zoning out when I'm talking or actually listen?”

  My eyes cut to him. “Fuck you. I heard everything you just said.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Uh yeah. I can fucking multitask.”

  Luca nods and gives me a shoulder shrug. “Tell the last two player names I mentioned.”

  I open my jaw to respond instantly. It only takes a moment before I realize he's right.

  Okay, so this time I wasn't listening. I blame the unfamiliar smell sweeping me away. It's a subtle sweet, spicy combination he's never worn before.

  “Are you wearing a new cologne?”

  His face tilts at me. “Can't remember can you?”

  “Your smell is distracting.”

  “I smell bad?”

  “I didn't say that.”

  “So, I smell good.”

  Flustered I turn back to the T.V. and grumble, “I didn't say that either.”

  “What are you saying?”

  I simply continue searching for a movie.

  “Alexxa...”

  Nope. Not looking. You either. Keep your eyes on-

  “Alexxa...”

  I mean it! Don't look at him....

  “Alexxa.”

  My head snaps back at him. “Why'd you buy new cologne?”

  “Why'd you buy a new bra?”

  How the hell does he know that? Are my boobs that saggy in my other bras? I know it's not the point, but still, it makes a girl wonder. After our little bathroom rendezvous last night I tried to carry on as if nothing happened. I figured it was probably best given his track record and I would've been able to pull it off had it not been for the fact twenty minutes later he confesses he's stopped sleeping around. And that he went and got checked! Like checked checked! Why? I mean, all of sudden why has he stopped sleeping around? Why did he get checked? What the hell is he trying to prove? It doesn't really matter what it is because all of this is wrong. Everything that has happened between us is so very wrong. Even if it's very fucking hot, the hottest thing I've ever done in my entire life, it's still very fucking wrong. I'm the chick who reminds him women are not just fuck objects and he's the guy who reminds me men think about sex first, sports second, and eating third because there's no room for deeper contemplation. We don't belong together. We're best friends. We burp the alphabet in tandem not moan each other's name like an R&B duo. We both know this shit needs to stop, that we need to put some rules back in place before this shit really gets out of hand, yet we both refuse to talk about it. Yeah. I'm not a huge fan of chick moments.

  “What are we supposed to eat?” I huff my change in subject. “Warren typically goes grocery shopping today but since his parents are holding him hostage I doubt he's going to.”

  Luca shrugs. “I don't know. I can go get us something or we can order in.”

  “Chinese,” my voiced vote is proceeded with a picked movie. “And we're going to watch The Princess Bride.”

  “Fine.” He caves too easy for my liking. When I turn to give him a skeptical look he grins. “But we watch Top Gun next.”

  “Your man crush on Tom Cruise is gross.”

  “It's not a man crush,” Luca grunts. “Growing up he was one of my ma's favorite actors. Besides, classic Tom was kinda a badass. Risky Business. Top Gun. Cocktail. A Few Good Men.”

  “Just want it on record the fact you can name that many Tom Cruise movies off the top of your head scares me.”

  His eyes lower to a glare. “You wanna watch a documentary about the way the NFL has changed over the last decade?”

  “Absolutely fucking not.”

  “Then shut the fuck up about Tom's movies and press play.”

  I stick my tongue out at him playfully before the two of us burst into laughter. Momentarily believing we're transitioning back out of the danger zone, I relax against the couch, and let out a deep breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

  We can do this. We can slide into homeplate, back into the friend field. No problem.

  About midway through Top Gun, we're finishing up the last of the
orange chicken we split and readjusting ourselves on the couch. Instinctively, my body moves closer to his, the same way it always does when I'm full and wanting something to snuggle against. Luca drops an arm around my shoulder as expected.

  Believe it or not this is normal chill behavior. Don't worry.

  Unexpectedly, his fingertips lightly stroke my bare shoulder making it hard to concentrate on the movie.

  Well that's not.

  The sensation sends shivers down my spine and I find myself involuntarily arching into him. Feeling his body stiffen against mine only excites me further. I slowly pull my eyes away from the screen to steal a glance of his face that's being illuminated by the glow of the flat screen. To no surprise his jaw is locked. His eyes slightly hooded. His chest delivering short breaths. This is what he looked like yesterday just seconds before he demanded I succumb to his instructions. The ache between my thighs returns in full force.

  Ever since he beckoned my first orgasm given to me by another person, my pussy seems to be under the impression it should be a regular occurrence. As wet as I am it has clearly stated it doesn't give a fuck about my brain’s opinion on the subject.

  Luca's tongue wets his lips. “You have to stop looking at me like that.”

  My voice shakes. “Like what?”

  “Like you need me to make that pretty pussy of yours weep again.”

  The words snatch out a whimper.

  “Don't make that sound,” he growls.

  His displayed dominance threatens to disintegrate my poor panties. I push my thighs tighter together and weakly whisper, “Why not?”

  He lets his bottom lip slip between his teeth.

  Fuck, I wish that was me. Right there between his teeth. Right at his mercy.

  Luca swallows deep before he answers, “Because all it does is make me want to pound that tiny pussy until I've given you a real reason to make that sound.”

  I whimper again in cupidity.

  “What the fuck did I just say Alexxa?”

  My paralyzed voice isn't forced to answer, which is fine by me since I didn't have a good response anyway. In one swift motion, Luca's mouth covers mine and our tongues tangle so tightly, I fear they're going to end up in knots. Another soft cry escapes as I clutch onto his shirt for support. What should be an innocent kissing session suddenly breaks out into a war zone with dropped f-bombs and blasts of moans hard enough to knock us around on the couch. His hands roughly grab and tug at my shirt, desperation for it to leave the situation more than apparent.

  Yesterday I freely handed him the reigns letting curiosity guide my submission, however today, it seems the same pesky instructor would like to keep them and see what it's like to be the one in command. Hope I don't screw it up.

  Abruptly, I yank my body away from his. “No.”

  His dazed expression struggles to settle. “No?”

  “No.”

  Luca's eyebrows dart down and he gives his face a harsh scrub. “No what? No more? We're done?”

  “No...”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “I mean no.”

  “So back to it then?”

  “No.”

  “That word's already not one of my favorites.”

  “Today, I'm gonna keep my clothes on,” I declare my voice soft and seductive. “And you're going to take yours off.”

  He challenges with a familiar grin. “Am I?”

  “You are.”

  “Because having me touch you here,” my hand curls around his gym shorts covered cock, “is something you want me to do as badly as I wanna do it.”

  There's an incoherent grumble of swear words at the same time his eyes roll back into his head.

  Loving the power to have him in the same merciless position he had me yesterday threatens to make me come.

  Tell me with practice I'll get a better handle on that.

  “Shorts off, Luca.”

  He doesn't hesitate. Within celerity his shorts are on the floor and his hand is inching it’s way towards his dick.

  “Don't touch.”

  Luca growls fiercely. “Fucking, really?”

  “Really.”

  Sexual frustration pushes him to snap, “Then you touch it.”

  “When I fucking feel like it,” I snip, eyes piercing his.

  Instantly he backs down, relocates his hands to the back of the couch, and simply sits, letting his hard cock greet the moment. I let my gaze wander down until it lands on what has to be the one of the Wonders of the World. Like an over swollen treat filled with something even sweeter, his long and full dick swindles another whimper out of my system.

  Holy shit. Pretty sure this is what they use to make those monster dildo molds out of. It has to be.

  He sighs, “Alexxa if you're not gonna fucking touch me, at least fucking kiss me.”

  The less than sweet attempt to be understanding makes me smirk. I lean over and lightly press my lips to his at the same time my hand bravely wraps around his cock. As I hoped his breath falters along with his lips.

  “Fuck, baby...”

  Using the tip of my tongue I tease his top lip. “Beg...”

  “Please....”

  “Please what?”

  His panting thrums through his entire body. “Stroke me.”

  Moving my mouth away from his, I lean back, and begin a slow jerk. Just gripping something this engorged fills me with a sense of empowerment I've never had before. With every careful caress I can feel Luca relinquish the control I know he's always exerted in the bedroom. He groans deeply. His body shifts in request of more. I move my hand a little faster, documenting to my memory every single effect each motion presents. Unsure of what I'm doing, but curious on what makes him tick, I lower my hand to tug at his nuts, pleased to see the action elicits an animalistic cry.

  “Fu...” is the only part of the word to successfully leak out.

  As if the only thing on my agenda for the day is to analyze his cock's cravings, I continue my research of stroking at various paces, tugging to assorted levels, and teasing the exposed flesh of his neck with lecherous licks.

  The moment I concoct the perfect combination of pressure and pumps, Luca's entire demeanor drifts the direction of delirious desperation.

  His head hits the back of the couch. “No dejes. Tas tan Ccerca.”

  My teeth dig sharply into my bottom lip.

  No fucking idea what that means but it sounded sexy as hell with the accent.

  “So close,” he declares in a rocky voice.

  Relentless now in my efforts, I stroke faster and faster while my pussy tightens in resentment.

  “Derecho ahi...” His cock hardens to a new level, which drags my eyes down. “Ahi...Si..” Suddenly his entire body begins to shudder and a scolding stream of come covers my hand. “Ahi...Ahi...”

  Mesmerized by the sexually raw and arousing vision in front of me, my own lungs are suddenly being bereaved of air as if the only thing that should matter right now is him.

  I'm beginning to believe it's the only thing that should ever matter.

  It takes several long breaths, which we seem to take in a pendulum, before either one of us speaks.

  I tease, “You're messy.”

  “You asked for it,” he chuckles back.

  “Did I?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  “When you demanded I take my fucking shorts off and touched my dick. What did you think would happen? An Al Green solo?”

  I kick him in the shin as I reach for a napkin off the table. “You're not acting very grateful for someone who just got you off.”

  Am I wrong?

  At that moment, Luca grabs my arm, and yanks me back into him. His lips slide onto mine sweetly. I brace myself expecting his need to be in control again to flourish. Instead, he gently meshes his tongue with mine and offers it the very gratitude I accused him of not having.

  Have I mentioned what a fantastic kisser he is? It's like mouth sex.r />
  He draws his mouth away from mine and whispers, “I'm grateful for any piece of you I get.”

  The weight of his confession instantly becomes too much to bare.

  Wait...wait...This isn't right. He shouldn't be saying that. I shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't be together. This was a mistake.