The Game

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The Game Page 4

by Jeanne Barrack


  He stopped pacing and gripped his arms, hugging himself. “And he was. God, I gave the cabbie an extra fifty to cut every red light. When I got to the hospital, his folks were there and…” He clenched his hands. “The hospital wouldn’t let me in until they left.” His breath hitched as he relived that night. “When I finally got in to see him, he was exhausted and falling asleep.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was so scared. I, I touched his cheek to see if he was still alive, and he opened his eyes and smiled at me. I lost it. I cried like an idiot. Thankfully, he had only been awake for one second. He didn’t see me break down.”

  “You’re in love with him,” Shari uttered in awe and moved over to him. Her arms went around him, and she hugged him as tightly as a five foot two female could hug a muscled six foot tall guy, and spoke, her voice muffled against him. “Does he know you’re gay?”

  “Not a clue. At least I don’t think so.” He gently disengaged from her embrace. “Marcie knows, too. She promised not to say anything.”

  “I won’t tell, either, but Frank, you can’t keep this from him. You love him. He should know. He should—” She stopped. “Why vice?”

  Frank sank back down on the trunk, his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling. “It was Joey. He was in vice and Dave thought he was a hero. You know, saving the world from pimps and pedophiles and dirty scumbags.” He raised his head, his eyes bleak. “And then, one day, Joey was dead. See, Joey thought he was a hero, too, and he took chances. Stupid chances. He interfered with a doped-up hooker and her pimp. Surprise, surprise. He was concerned about the pimp; he should have been worried about the hooker. When she saw he was getting in the way of her getting her fix, she went at him with her five-inch-high stilettos.” His bitter laughter stunned her. “Dave swore he’d continue Joey’s good work. So that’s why he went into vice, and that’s where he’s been the last five years.” He fixed her with his gaze. “I don’t have the courage to tell him I’m gay.”

  Shari kneeled down in front of him. “Thanks for talking to me. Listen, you have a lot more courage than you think to share this with me.” She stood. “I only hope I have enough.”

  She looked toward the wall that backed up against the other bedroom. The only sounds she could hear were Frank’s deep breaths and her own erratic heartbeat. Could Dave and Marcie be asleep already? Could they be…? No. No?

  “Frank, I need to talk to Dave.” She took a cleansing breath. “Do you think he and Marcie are…you know?”

  Frank’s lips curved. “Dave wouldn’t do anything without telling you.” His smile grew. “Hell, he actually asked me whether he should take a chance and get in touch with you before he called you the first time. He didn’t want to start something if I needed him to be there to talk to after my supposed engagement broke up.” He tried to laugh. “As for Marcie, well, her favorite way is a three-way, and I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

  Shari bent and hugged him. “Pray the next person you see is Marcie.” She squared her shoulders, her expression determined. “I’m going in.”

  * * * *

  “Toss me a pillow, will you? The footboard is kinda hard to lean against.”

  Dave grabbed the pillow next to him and gently threw it toward Marcie. She caught it with one hand and shoved it behind her.

  “Marcie, I’m sorry you and I…” Dave leaned against the headboard, his hands crossed behind his head. “I love Shari.” He paused. “At least, I think I do. At least, I think I am…falling in love with her.” He looked past her toward the wall behind her. “Do you think she and Frank…?”

  Marcie almost fell off the bed, laughing. “No way.” She halted. “Well, I don’t think…” She shook her head. “No, no way.”

  “You and Frank?”

  She grinned full out. “A lady never tells.”

  “Shari told me a little about your ambition. Next time I’m over at Shari’s, I’d love to see some of your work.”

  “Sure. I’m not shy. I’d love to show them to you.” She paused. “That is if you and Shari aren’t…busy.”

  Dave managed to look abashed. “Yeah, I guess we have been…busy.” He smiled. “I think that might change. We have a few more things to talk about now.” He looked again at the wall as if he could see through it. “It’s awfully quiet in there.” Is he fucking her? Is his cock up her ass? Or maybe it’s so quiet because he’s eating her pussy? Or maybe…?

  “Maybe they’re asleep.”

  “In the same bed?”

  Marcie laughed again. “You know they could be talking like you and I are doing.”

  A look of relief crossed Dave’s face. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Thanks. Besides, Shari is really…yeah, they’re not doing anything.”

  A staccato knocking at the door interrupted them.

  “Marcie, could you come out for a minute, please?”

  “Shari? Sure, just a minute.”

  Marcie turned to Dave and shrugged.

  *

  Shari spoke without preamble. “Marcie, I need to talk to Dave. Now, before I lose my nerve. Is it okay with you if you spend the night with Frank?” She laughed nervously. “Or if I wind up coming back in two minutes and borrowing a blanket while I sleep on the couch?”

  Marcie shook her head. “I’ll be very surprised to see you before morning, but don’t worry. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

  Shari gave her a swift hug. “Thanks, hon. I owe you.”

  “Damn straight.”

  *

  Dave stared at the door. Now what? He went over to the window and looked out at the snow still steadily falling. The drifts were almost halfway up the windows. Even with conserving the generator fuel, it would be tight. Shit. Why hadn’t he called that son of a bitch caretaker beforehand?

  A cool breeze across his backside announced the door opening. “Marcie? What did Shari…Shari?”

  She stood just inside the room as if afraid he’d send her away. She looked adorable in his T-shirt and bare feet. Adorable and on the verge of tears.

  Four strides brought him to her and he touched her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath. “Dave, please sit down. I need to show you something.”

  He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Thanks.”

  She opened the closet door and pulled out the smaller of the two suitcases she’d brought with her. She carried it over to the floor in front of the bed and unlocked it. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, looked up at Dave and turned the case around so he could see the contents.

  “What the fu…? Shari?” He closed his eyes for a second then opened them. “You weren’t looking for a story that night at the club were you? You belong to it.”

  She shook her head. “Belonged to it. I haven’t been back since we met.”

  “Why? You afraid I’d arrest you? It’s not illegal, you know, only when someone gets killed or uses one as a cover for something that is illegal.” He laughed harshly. “You’re safe. You can go back at any time. You didn’t have to fuck me to not arrest you.”

  She shoved the case across the floor and rose to her knees before him, her arms outstretched in supplication. “Please, please, David. I didn’t want…I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He reached down and hauled her up by the elbows, their faces an inch apart. “No. You want me to hurt you. Right?”

  She licked her lips and nodded. “Please?”

  Chapter 3

  Dave threw open the curtains, letting in the moonlight. He stripped his T-shirt from Shari, took the flashlight he’d placed on the dresser earlier and turned it on. He played it over her body, examining her.

  “There aren’t any bruises. Why not?”

  She stood stock still, her voice quivering. “Didn’t you ever wonder why we never made love with the lights on? And you came to my apartment at night and usually left while I was neatly tucked under the covers with the shades drawn.” She took a deep breath. “And when you fucked me, ha
rd, in that alley, it was dark, too. Remember?” Her body started trembling, but she didn’t move. “The bruises faded.” She gulped in air. “I thought, I hoped, we would make love this weekend with the lights on.” She sank to her knees, her head in her hands. “I thought maybe…maybe I could tell you and you wouldn’t…hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.” His soft voice wrapped around her heart. She heard the sound of the lamp clicking on and saw the dim glow pooling on the floor.

  “In fact…Look at me, Shari.”

  She lifted her eyes and gazed into his.

  “Get the case.”

  She made as if to stand.

  “No. Crawl and get it.”

  Shari tried not to hope. Could he possibly mean it? She got up on all fours and moved toward the suitcase.

  “Pick out your favorites and bring them over here.”

  Shari’s heart raced. Her fingers fumbled as she made her selection. She started to crawl back, but Dave stopped her.

  “Just bring them to the bed, Shari, and join me.”

  *

  Dave stretched out on the lumpy mattress and waited. Well, he wanted to know more about Shari, and he certainly did now. His mouth grew as dry as the dust beneath the couch in the living room as Shari approached the bed.

  His thoughts raced.

  Hell, he should have realized. He never had to be too gentle with her. She gave as good as she got and then some if he asked for it. But if he were honest with himself, at the back of his mind, he always felt she never quite let go completely.

  Now he knew he had been right.

  And now he didn’t need to restrain his own desires. He could be as rough as he wanted to a point. “What do you have?”

  Shari held out her hands. In one, she had a set of cuffs; in the other, nipple clamps.

  Dave chuckled. “If I had known you wanted to be cuffed, I would have brought my pair from work.”

  Shari smiled tentatively. “Yours aren’t padded in faux fur. I wouldn’t think you used yours for anything other than cuffing dangerous people.”

  Dave’s growled whisper caressed her. “You’re dangerous to my peace of mind. What about a collar? Do you wear one?”

  “No, but I do have one. I don’t like giving up all my control.” She gave him a teasing glance. “Sometimes I like to be in charge. You certainly seem to know about these things.”

  This time Dave couldn’t keep in the laughter. “Babe, I’ve been working vice for a few years now. You don’t think I’ve learned anything?” He leaned forward and patted the bed. “Get over here. Now. I want you within reach.”

  Shari put one knee on the mattress, and he hauled her into his arms. He gripped her chin and she opened her lips, allowing him to plunge his tongue deep within and tangle with hers.

  With one quick motion, he shifted her so that she straddled him, her shaved pussy rubbing against his arousal. He reached between them and pressed down on the throbbing little bundle of nerves.

  Her breath hissed between her teeth, and she wrenched her mouth away. She stared at him and licked her lips.

  “Put the clamps on me. Please?”

  Dave gazed at the interlocking metal circles and then at Shari. Her nipples were tight, begging to be sucked. Licked, bitten.

  Loved.

  He bent and took one luscious tip between his lips and suckled—hard. He squeezed the poor neglected one and twisted.

  “Oh, God, Dave, why are you making me wait? It feels so good when you do that, but I need even more.” Her voice quavered. “Please, please, please—”

  He bit down hard and she arched farther into his mouth. She took his hand, folded it over the clamps and grabbed his head, pressing it against her breast, threading her fingers through his short, silky curls.

  “Oh, God, that’s good, so good, so—ahh.”

  She sank onto his penis and slowly moved up and down, her buttocks slapping against his thighs. She moaned.

  “I love the feel of your penis in me. It’s so slick. So…hard. So…good.”

  Dave thrust up, lifting her. He smiled. “You like my prick?” He thrust harder, deeper. “Never asked. Am I your first circumcised lover?”

  She nodded, beyond speech.

  “It’s a whole different sensation, right?” He laughed. “No wonder you like it better without a condom.” He fumbled around in the sheets until he found the clamps, placed them on her engorged nipples and tightened them.

  She whimpered.

  “You like that, babe? I’ll make them tighter, real tight.”

  He watched as she winced and then sighed with pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she flung her head back, trying to catch her breath. He grasped her ass and squeezed, spreading her cheeks and speeding his movements. Shari gasped, thrilling him with her response. He increased the clamps’ pressure again.

  And she flexed her inner muscles, milking him.

  Now he groaned.

  How much more could he take? How much more could she take? How much more could she give him?

  He grabbed her shoulders, then cupped her flushed face. “Look at me, babe. I’m gonna pull out and turn you over on your belly and then…”

  “And then?”

  “And then I’m gonna cuff you and fuck your brains out.”

  He pushed her off none too gently and brought her hands together above her head. With the ease of long practice, he cuffed and looped her hands over the raised center of the headboard. She lay naked, facedown, her curved behind like a ripe plum.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, Shari. Every single, fucking inch.”

  She turned her head around, her lips rosy and bruised, her eyes mesmerizing him with their intensity. “Spank me first. I should be punished for not telling you sooner what I like the best.”

  “Should I use the flat of my hand?”

  “Yes, please. Please?”

  Dave kneeled behind her and raised her ass. He placed his legs on either side of hers and took a moment to run his hands across her soft, creamy skin. God, he hated to mar her. But it was what she wanted, and he wanted to give her what she asked for. Then he’d kiss her stinging flesh and make her beg him to make love to her.

  Smack! Smack!

  “You should never keep secrets from me. Not if you don’t wish to be punished.”

  Whack! Whack!

  “Don’t ever lie to me again.”

  Swat! Swat!

  “Swear it!”

  He raised his hand for one more blow, but Shari forestalled him.

  “I swear! I swear! Oh, God, I don’t want to wait any longer. Now, make love to me, I’m begging you!”

  Dave drew closer to her lightly bruised and reddened flesh and, as slow, thick, rich honey pouring from the jar, he laved her tender behind with his tongue.

  “Oh God,” she moaned and arched her back.

  He swirled the tip of his tongue back and forth between the two dimples at the base of her spine, then reached around and twisted the nipple clamps again.

  She jumped.

  “Jesus! Fuck me now!”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  And he began the slow inexorable thrusts.

  She moaned as his penetration increased, bringing her closer and closer to a cataclysmic orgasm.

  And then he was right there with her.

  * * * *

  “Why are you torturing yourself?”

  Marcie’s voice reeked with something too close to pity for Frank’s taste. He tried and failed to block the passionate cries emanating from the other room. And the bed banging.

  “Damn it to hell, that’s it! I’ve fucking had it. I don’t give a shit what happens. I’m telling Dave tomorrow that I’m gay.”

  Marcie got up from the bed and moved over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. She leaned her head against him and sighed.

  “Oh, sweetie, are you sure? Can’t it wait until we get back to the city?”

  Frank shrugged off her hand.


  “And what if…what if somehow we don’t get out of here? What if the snowplow doesn’t get here in time?” He laughed. “I know that’s nuts. We’re not going to die here. People expect us home this week, and if we don’t show they’ll come after us, and the snowplow’s bound to come up here eventually.” He took a deep breath. “But if I let myself think I’ll have another chance to tell him, I’ll never do it. It’s gotta be now.”

  “And will you tell him you love him?”

  Frank sagged onto the bed. “I don’t know.”

  * * * *

  “That’s it. You’re catering my first gallery showing. If you can make crackers and honey taste gourmet, imagine what you could do with real food.” Marcie took a last swig of her lukewarm coffee and crumpled up her napkin.

  “Gallery showing? Your portfolio? Someone is hosting a show for you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Shari squealed, jumping up and hugging Marcie.

  “I was going to this weekend. It’s scheduled for the week after next. I still can’t believe it.”

  Dave grinned. “Guess I’ll see your work sooner than we thought. Congratulations, Marcie.”

  “Yeah, that’s fantastic. Have you selected the pictures yet?” Frank asked.

  Marcie swirled her coffee with her finger then licked off the tepid liquid. She made a face and then slapped on a happy smile.

  “Well, I did bring some 8x10s to look through while we were up here—just in case Frank and I hated each other’s guts, I locked him out of the bedroom, and wedged a chair under the knob to keep him from bashing it down.” She turned an innocent look on the three others. “Kidding. And you know we don’t hate each other.” She grinned. “I actually like him.” She sighed. “Gosh, lighten up. I brought them because, well, I wasn’t sure I’d picked the right ones, and I thought maybe getting some objective opinions would help me make up my mind.” She smiled tentatively. “I still can’t believe someone thinks my work is that good.”

 

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