Two Player Games: (Corrupted 5-8)

by Klaire, Jamie

  My hands scratched deep into his back with every thrust, and I opened my thighs, wrapping them tightly around his waist and rocking with him, rubbing myself against him. I called out his name as I came and he answered by driving harder, faster, making one orgasm stretch into two as he rocked his pelvic bone against my clit.

  "Oh god, oh fuck." He grunted it out as he came inside me in a hot rush.

  Chapter 12

  It's A Miracle

  The next morning I woke up alone in Roger's bed. I put my long, button down shirt back on, smiling to myself with the memory of unbuttoning it last night. I made my way to the kitchen, where the smell of coffee is beckoning me. I pour myself a cup and through the window I spy Roger out in his back yard. I head out back in nothing but my shirt, carrying my coffee.

  'He's so handsome,' I think as I watch him working in what looks like to be a small garden. He's wearing jeans but little else, and I enjoy the way the morning sun plays over his bare skin as I sip from a large mug that says, "Still plays with airplanes."

  He's down on his knees in the dirt, pulling weeds by hand when I wander over toward him. "Making mud pies?" I ask as I slid up beside him, blocking the sun. He grins up at me, slides one hand out of a garden glove, and runs it up from my calf to my bare bottom under my shirt.

  "Good morning, sunshine." He teases, watching goose bumps jump out on the skin he just touched. "I'm hoping this patch of dirt will soon be more vegetables than mud pie ingredients, but it's my first attempt, so we'll see."

  Now that I was closer, I could see little colorful signs on sticks, showing the various vegetables he was hoping would appear. I said, "I've seen Secondhand Lions, I hope you didn't buy your seeds from the same traveling salesman."

  He laughed and said, "Great movie. Nope, I bought mine from a garden center. I'm trying out some basics, onions, green and red peppers, carrots and cucumbers. I figured that was enough for a beginner."

  "I should step away then, I have a black thumb. I can't seem to keep an herb garden alive. I have even been known to kill a cactus."

  "I hope I didn't wake you. I was trying to let you sleep, and it's such a pretty morning. Figured I'd weed these guys and give them some breakfast. The seed guy recommended this stuff," he pointed to a small container of Miracle-Grow sitting beside him, "He said it makes a big difference in vegetables. Hey are you hungry? There's a great breakfast place near here. They have the best cinnamon rolls in the county. Big as your head."

  "Sounds heavenly."

  He teased me as we sat at a table, waiting for our breakfast order, which included two cinnamon rolls. "I didn't know it was possible to kill a cactus."

  "Yeah, I didn't either, but leave it to me to do the impossible. 'That's never happened before' seems to be my middle name. It's not so bad when you hear it in regards to a cactus, but it is super scary when you hear it from your dentist. And your car mechanic. Welcome to my world."

  I laughed at a memory and said, "Speaking of the dentist. I had some work done at my new dentist's office the other day. The hygienist was prepping me before the dentist came in and she asked me if I was an easy gagger. Before I knew it I'd answered her by saying, 'Isn't that more of a third visit kind of question?' Thankfully she laughed instead of refusing to work on me. Sometimes I forget to filter myself before I speak."

  Roger laughed and said, "She probably told the dentist later, after you left. That was funny. They probably had a good laugh once they didn't have to act all professional."

  "I hope so. If I call in to make an appointment and they tell me, 'Sorry, we are closed that day.' I'll know it's time to find another dentist." I laughed and said, "Back to our original topic. I can't grow a vegetable to save my life, but I can cook the crap out of them. I like cooking, and I'm pretty good at it. I make a mean kabob, with this Greek cucumber dip. Served on rice with a salad. Yummy. I'll have to make it for you some day."

  "How about tonight?" He asked, mindlessly fiddling with a bunch of cellophane wrapped toothpicks in a container on the table. "Unless you have other plans? We can stop by the store on the way home and pick up whatever you need. Get a bottle of wine. Maybe see the movie we didn't go to last night?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah. Why not? We were a little preoccupied last night." His eyes crinkled as he smiled at me over the small pile of toothpicks he was arranging on the table between us. I smiled back, blushing at the memories. I broke eye contact, looking down at the table, watching his hands. He arranged the toothpicks into letters on the table, facing me. An 'N.' Then an 'A.'

  I looked back up at him, suspiciously. "What are you doing?" He just smiled, and added a 'K' and an 'E.'

  I felt my face blush deeper as I realized he was slowly spelling 'NAKED' out in toothpicks on our table. He barely got the 'D' formed when our waitress appeared. He brushed the word away as she set our plates down in front of us. "Everything look alright?" She asked, as I was still giggling about Roger's toothpick display.

  Roger spoke up for both of us, "Oh yeah. Definitely looking good over here." He said it looking into my eyes instead of at our newly arrived food, but our waitress didn't notice. I hadn't realized it was possible to turn so many shades of pink over breakfast, but I did it.

  The cinnamon rolls were as good, and as large, as promised. We split one and took the other with us, full on bacon and pancakes. We stopped by the grocery store, Roger pushing the cart as I loaded it up. I got the stuff for dinner and got the beginnings of an idea while standing in the produce area. I made sure Roger was occupied picking out a wine and I tossed a few more things than I needed for dinner into the cart, giggling at my idea.

  We took everything back to Roger's, I set the meat up to marinate and we headed off to a movie. Afterward Roger ran a few errands and we headed back so I could get dinner going. Other than not knowing where everything was in Roger's kitchen, it went really well. The wine he chose was a perfect touch, and the evening was relaxed and pleasurable. He asked me to stay again tonight, and I accepted.

  Roger asked later if I'd mind him taking a run. He hadn't gone this morning and wanted to get a few miles in. I swore I didn't mind at all, and practically pushed him out the door into the night. 'Finally,' I thought. I hadn't thought my earlier idea out and was starting to wonder how I was going to get a few minutes alone to set it up.

  Once he left, I went into the kitchen and got the bag I had stashed earlier. It was full of onions, green and red peppers, carrots and cucumbers. I let myself out the back door, and using the light from my cell phone, hurried to Roger's vegetable garden. I stuck the fully-grown grocery store veggies in their corresponding rows behind the pictures of them on a stick. I didn't bury them, I didn't want to ruin his garden by digging, I just kind of stuck them into the ground a bit, between the actual rows, so hopefully they would look in tomorrow's morning light like a lush, full garden had miraculously grown overnight, twenty-four hours after the application of Miracle-Grow he had applied this morning.

  I ran back into the house, locked everything up the way I had found it, stuck the empty bag deep into his trash can, and hoped I could keep a straight face until morning.

  When we woke the next day, we snuggled some, teasing and talking, and finally dragged ourselves up for coffee. He loaded the coffee machine, turned it on to brew, and as I watched him, he took a look out his back window.

  He looked blankly out the window for a few seconds, then his brows dropped as he squinted his eyes. I looked over his shoulder to see what he was seeing. The sun glinting off of red, ripe peppers, the orange of the carrot bunches flashing through the green. I laughed to myself- I'd forgotten in my rush last night that you can't see the carrots in a garden, just their green tops, because they grow under the ground. Same with onions. Oops.

  Roger was so surprised, I don't think he realized what was wrong with that picture. He said, "Is that?... How?..." Then he uttered a "What the hell?" and headed out back at a jog. I followed behind him somewhat more slowly, laughing uncontr
ollably.

  I had also forgotten to remove the produce stickers from the veggies, I noticed as I stood beside Roger. I really could have planned this better. I looked to Roger, silently laughing so hard tears were rolling down my face. He looked at me with this 'That was a good one' look on his face. I took a deep breath, threw my arms out wide and said, "It's a miracle." Then I wrapped my arms around my stomach and fell to the grass, rolling with laughter.

  He joined me in my laughter, saying '"That was so not funny. You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought, 'Wow, that shit really works,' for about two seconds. Then I saw the stickers."

  I asked him, still laughing, "Are you going to tell this story to your farmer friend too? The one you asked about the horse plug?"

  He laughed harder, picturing that conversation. "Yeah, I probably will. That was good. You really got me. What am I going to do with you?"

  "I can think of a few things." I said, with my laughter changing to a mischievous grin.

  Roger dropped me off at home later that night. He had offered to let me stay again, but I was days behind on work as it was. I'd spent about 48 hours straight over there, and we both had things we needed to do. We agreed to get together again in a few days, before he had to work again.

  He kissed me goodbye at my front door, saying he didn't dare come in or he'd end up staying a few days blowing off his stuff too. I wanted to make sure I stayed fresh in his mind, so I put a lot into that kiss. So did he. His hands explored my back, sliding up into my hair and then cupping my face.

  He stopped the kiss, and looked into my eyes with his hands still on my face. "Just so you know," he started awkwardly. "I'm not seeing anyone but you. Are you? Seeing anyone else, I mean?"

  His face was so earnest, I was immediately transported back to the 'going together' conversations from high school. "No," I reassured him with a soft smile. "I'm not seeing anyone else either. Just you."

  He grinned and said, "So, later when I'm telling my friend, who already wants to meet you, the 'Miracle-Grow' story, I can say it was pulled off by my girlfriend? So he doesn't start getting any ideas about stealing you away from me?"

  I grinned right back and said, "As long as you don't mention what we did right after that, right there in your grass."

  "It's a deal."

  I kissed him again, hard. I was regretting this not seeing him for a few days thing already. After two days I was really going to miss him. I mean, who needs a paycheck, right? When the kiss was over, I let him go, with promises to call me tomorrow.

  The bell rang about ten minutes later. My heart caught in my throat. It would be just like him to be gone long enough to pick up some roses or something and come right back. 'This time,' I thought, 'I'm not letting him leave. Work be damned.'

  I swung the door wide open, grinning wildly, and said, "I take it you missed me."

  Only it wasn't Roger with roses at my door. It was Caleb.

  Chapter 13

  Small World

  "I have missed you every single day since you dumped my ass, but that's not why I'm here."

  Before I could comment on that though, he was on to other things. He does that a lot, throwing in a statement like that, and then glossing over it before anything serious can follow it.

  "I'm here to ask for your help. I need you. You aren't going to like it, but I'm hoping you will help me anyway."

  He looked serious. And nervous. And damn sexy standing there in his police uniform, filling up my doorway with his raw masculine self.

  "What do you need me for?" I asked him, confused and off balance. He was the last thing I expected to just show up at my door.

  "May I come in?"

  I hesitated a second. Roger had just left, and here was Caleb wanting to come in. I felt guilty for some reason, even though that was silly. I shook it off and said, "Yes, of course. Come on in."

  I fought the urge to leave the door open, like I was still a teenager with a boy in my room, leaving the door open to appease my parents. I closed the door, but didn't lock it. Locking us in didn't seem right. 'What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not doing anything wrong.' I reminded myself. I turned my attention to Caleb who was still standing, shifting from one foot to the other.

  "Sit, Caleb." I ordered. "You're making me nervous. Can I get you anything? A drink? "

  "No, I'm good." He said, lowering himself onto the very edge of my couch.

  "Well, I have the feeling I'm going to need a drink myself. Are you sure you don't want anything? A glass of wine? Are you coming or going?" I asked on my way to the kitchen to pour myself some wine. I needed something to hold and do as much as I needed the wine itself.

  "What?" He asked me, confused.

  "You're in uniform. Are you going in or are you on your way home?"

  "Oh. Going in. Otherwise I would probably take you up on that wine. I'm on nights right now."

  I sat in a chair, facing Caleb. I sipped from my glass, eying him as I drank. It has been a long time since I'd sat with Caleb, outside of a club. It was hard to believe that this was the first time I'd ever seen him in my living room in uniform. The room seemed so small with him in it. Despite his nervousness, he looked really good.

  If I didn't know him so well, I'd never know he was nervous. He hid it well. I guess you have to, as a cop. It wasn't that he was sitting on the front edge of the couch cushion. That just screamed all business. No, it was something in his eyes. In the way he held his jaw. This definitely wasn't a friendly visit.

  "Ok Caleb. What's up? This isn't like you."

  "Well, you know I'm trying for detective, right?"

  I nodded yes and asked him how that was going.

  "Good. I passed the exams. I'm in the top three. There is one spot open in my division, and another spot open on the north side, so my odds are good. Two spots, three guys vying for them. To decide, we have been alternating. They cut our patrol schedule way down so we could spend a few days a week kind of trying out both detective squads, riding along, seeing whose personalities are a good fit. Anyway, that's why I'm here.

  I've been going through some old, cold case files. They have the new guys try a few, re-interview old witnesses, a fresh eyes on old material kind of thing. The one that caught my attention was an old missing person case. Do you remember the Claudia Russell case? It was all over the news. She disappeared about eight years ago."

  I did remember her. She was a teenager, probably sixteen or seventeen. She just didn't come home one day. She was from a couple of states over, but her case was national news. Her picture was everywhere for a long time. She wasn't smiling in the picture they chose. It looked like someone had snapped her picture while her attention was far away, day dreaming or something. Her eyes were haunting. She was a very pretty girl, mixed race I think. Part white and part Indian or Hispanic. Dark hair and eyes, flawless olive skin.

  They found her car, I think. Nowhere near where it was supposed to be. The cops seemed to concentrate on the parents. The stepdad in particular, but they never arrested him. I think they looked at a boyfriend as well, but they never found her, either alive or dead. I told Caleb what I remembered and he said that was her.

  Caleb took a breath, looked me in the eyes and said, "There is a new lead in that case. I think she is alive and I have reason to believe that she has been seen in the area. In one of the swinger's clubs. That's why I need you. I'd like to look for her, ask around in that scene. I'd like you to come with me."

  "Me? Why? I'm not a cop, what help would I be? I feel for her, but I wouldn't be any help. Don't you have a female cop you could take?"

  "No. The department isn't going to pay for two officers to hang out at various clubs like that. Not without better intelligence on exactly where she might be. It's not really a formal lead, actually, and there's just no budget for an undercover operation that may or may not ever amount to anything, especially not for a case this old. This would have to be on my free time. Unpaid. You know I can't go alone. A single guy isn't allow
ed in without a group or a female with him."

  "So go with Kate and Michael."

  "They only go to That Other Club. It's a start, but I'd want to look at other clubs too, and I'd need to blend in. I would blend in with you. We've been there, we know how it works. We could pass as a couple."

  I stopped him, "Caleb, there is no way. For so many reasons. I'm dating Roger now. He'd never allow me to go to sex clubs with you."

  "So don't tell him."

  I glossed over that with a look, and continued, "You don't even know what she looks like now. She was a teenager. She's got to be like twenty four or twenty five now. She didn't even live here, and you said it wasn't a formal lead. What makes you think she'd even be there? How would you find her? Just ask around? 'Hey, anyone seen that missing kid from eight years ago in the orgy room lately?' That's crazy."

  He started to say something, but I kept going. "We are friends, Caleb. How we managed to pull that off, I don't know. We have a hell of a history, and there is a lot I would do for you, but not that. Those places were like going down the rabbit hole for me. I can't go back there, pretending to be your girlfriend in a place like that. Where everyone is naked, and... and... doing things, and the erotically charged atmosphere, and the things we would have to do to be convincing. I like Roger. A lot. It's normal, and exciting and new. We wouldn't survive what you are suggesting. I don't know what your deal is with Ashlee, but she'd never approve."

  "I wouldn't tell her. She's nothing to me anyway. Nothing serious, I mean."

  "Yeah, I know. Caleb can't be tied down, I get it. I know first-hand. But I won't do that to Roger, especially for no reason, and no real proof this woman is even there. Or still alive. Even on the totally off chance that we would find her, then what? Say, 'Hey, we're here to save you. Put some clothes on and come with us?' If the department won't donate time or money to this, why bother? If the unofficial lead is so bad the department won't even try, why would you?"

  Caleb said, "The lead is unofficial because it's my lead. I haven't told anyone but you it even exists, and I don't plan to. Not yet anyway. You know how cops keep bits of information from the public? Things only the person who did the crime could possibly know? Or identifying information, for if they find a body they can tentatively identify who they think it is, while they wait for DNA or dental records?"