The Love Game

by Emilia Beaumont

  “I want you. Right here. Right now,” I groaned. On the top of the tower. If only she would let me, but she deserved more.

  Her eyes sprang open, wide, then flickered to the sides. I grinned; she was thinking about it, which only made me harder.

  “There are too many people,” she said, her words ragged with need.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away and rested my forehead against hers. “God, you drive me to distraction,” I whispered.

  “I’m pretty distracted myself,” she chuckled, her arms surrounding my waist. “This is crazy. Things like this do not happen to me. This can’t be real.”

  I pinched her waist lightly, and she giggled. “It’s real.” I took her hand and guided it to my hard-on. “And so is this.”

  She blushed, but this time she didn’t look away. And to my surprise she kept her hand firmly against the bulge in my pants.

  She bit her lip. “Mmm… How do I know it’s real if I can’t see it?”

  I was about to answer, but then she started to move her hand up and down. Fuck me.

  Ginny pulled her other arm free from around my waist and without taking her eyes off me managed to pop the first button at the top of my jeans. The second button popped, and I could feel my cock nudging at the opening. With the third pop, I knew I was exposed. But she was still looking right at me. I couldn’t move, didn’t want to move for fear of halting whatever she had in mind.

  Her gaze flickered behind us. And by the way she smiled, the corners of her mouth tilting up at the edges slightly, I knew we were alone for the moment.

  “I better take a good look, just to make sure,” she whispered and eased herself down into a slight crouch.

  Her warm hand and her fingers snaked around my shaft, pulling it free of its confines. I could feel her breath, hot, panting, and I ached for it to get closer.

  My eyes rolled back as the first touch came. Her tongue seeking and exploring the tip of my cock, lapping up precum like she depended upon the nectar. I grabbed the railing with both hands and groaned. I was not expecting this, I thought as her lips began to wrap around me, tight, warm… delicious. I’d wanted to please her, but I wasn’t about to tell her no. I would please her for days to come.

  “Oh god, Gin,” I moaned as she took more of me into her mouth. I glanced down and watched her bob her head. Slow, long strokes at first, then more rapid, sharp ones as she simultaneously pursed her lips tighter. “Fuck, yes.” I threaded my fingers into her hair. At the touch she looked up at me. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, and I came right then, loving the way she looked with my cock in her mouth. She maintained eye contact and swallowed, sucking me dry, taking every last drop I had for her. Then as if it had never happened, she stood, her back against the railing, and used her thumb and forefinger to wipe her lips. Who the hell was this girl?

  I tucked myself in and fastened my jeans back up. “That was—”

  “Real.”

  I nodded. “You keep on surprising me,” I said and pulled her roughly against me. “But I was supposed to be surprising you today.”

  She shrugged coyly. “I didn’t want to ever forget being up here with you.”

  “No chance of that. Come here,” I said and tilted her head up to mine. “I’m going to make it up to you, though.” I kissed her, and snaked my tongue into her insanely hot mouth. Her cherry lip-gloss was gone now, but I could still taste the sweetness, mingled with my saltiness.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Ginny said softly, sadness in her voice when we came up for air. I silently agreed, though I was worried about how much she was affecting me. Never in my adult life had a woman wormed her way in as quickly and effortlessly as she had. “Don’t go back,” I said, surprising myself. “Come with me, be my groupie.”

  She laughed and stepped out of my embrace, her eyes telling me all that I needed to know. “Now that would be exciting. Should I make signs?”

  “Signs, topless antics, I’ll take them all,” I answered, glad that I’d managed to push aside the sadness that I had seen in her eyes. What kind of life did she have back home? What part of herself was she not sharing with me?

  The tour guide came over and announced that our time was over. “I’ll be right back,” I told her and quickly pulled the man to the side. I told him what I wanted and he looked unsure. I flashed him a wad of notes, and he quickly changed his mind.

  I made my way back to Ginny, grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the elevator—the private, empty, elevator that I’d secured for us. We stepped into the large enclosure, holding hands. It was much bigger than a normal elevator. Three or four times the size. More like a freight or industrial model you’d find in a hotel or loft. The guide held back the other tourists waiting to get on.

  Ginny glanced at me as the doors shut, a question in her eyes. “We have it all to ourselves?”

  “Yup.”

  She starred forward as the faces of all the tourists slid from view. Her own face was deadpan. “Then what are we waiting for? We don’t have much time.”

  I spun her towards me. Her breasts smashed up against my chest. We dove right in, kissing, touching, groping each other.

  Just as she had done to me only moments earlier, I popped the button on her jeans then slid her zipper down. I first felt the soft cotton of her knickers, then finding the edge, my fingers slid between the fabric and her body. She was smooth on the edges, but as I delved deeper I felt a cluster of thick curls—a landing strip—guiding me the rest of the way in. She squirmed and bit her lip, watching my reaction as I found her wet center.

  “Are you a real redhead?” I asked.

  “You’ll have to see to find out,” she whispered back, her tongue close to my ear. Challenge accepted.

  The elevator slid past intricate weavings of steel. There were windows on all sides that counted, and I pulled her down to the floor quickly. The last thing we needed was to be seen, but I wasn’t going to stop, either.

  She lay on her back, and I pulled her jeans over her rump, and pushed the tough fabric to around her knees. With a few kicks she managed to push them farther to her ankles.

  “Moment of truth,” I said with a lick of my lips, and gently but eagerly slid her panties down. “Very real…” I whispered as I witnessed a dark golden mass of red curls upon her pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, I grabbed her calves, lifted them up, and hooked them around my shoulders.

  She let out an agonizing moan as soon as my fingers were back upon her; spreading her wide so my tongue could have its wicked way. I found her clit, glistening with wetness, and clamped my mouth around it; sucking and teasing as she squirmed under me.

  “I can’t believe this,” she was saying, panting and muttering the words like a mantra, in between utterances of pleasure.

  With my tongue swirling around her clit, I eased two fingers at the start of her pussy. She tilted her hips ever so slightly, as if urging me on, and I wasn’t about to disappoint her. I thrust them inside her, slow but hard. Letting her feel every inch of my long fingers and hooking them ever so slightly to graze upon her G-spot. She went wild; her moans became louder, and in response my thrusts became harder and more urgent.

  “Yes!” she cried, “Just like that. Oh, god, I’m going to cum.”

  The elevator clanked as if in encouragement. Loud mechanical knocks of metal and cogs all working together. And I knew it only meant one thing; we were nearing the end of our journey. Soon pale faces would be peering in, watching as I finger-fucked Ginny on the floor. There would be photos… and if it had been any other woman, I wouldn’t have cared. But this was Ginny.

  “Come for me, baby,” I said as I stopped sucking for a split second. I replaced my tongue with the pad of my thumb upon her clit, circling the little nub and watching her reaction to the sensation. All the while, my fingers pistoned in and out of her like a well-oiled machine. I could feel her walls tightening, the muscles of her legs around my shoulders straining, too. She was so close. Her breasts were heavin
g, her back was arched. My fingers were so deep inside her.

  Then as her mouth fell open, a tiny O, ringed with cherry-stained lips, she came; bursting like an over-pressurized balloon filled with water. Her lower half writhed, never wanting the sensation to stop, I imagined.

  I hovered over her and bent to kiss her.

  “Surprise,” I whispered. She opened her eyes and smiled.

  “That was the best surprise, ever.”

  I nodded. The clanging got louder, and I could feel the elevator slow. It would be coming to a stop in no time.

  “We have to get you decent. Quick.”

  With only moments to spare, Ginny managed to tug her jeans back up and rise to a standing position. The elevators doors slid open and I brushed wayward strands of hair off her flustered face. We giggled like naughty school-kids—which I guess we really were, naughty, there was no doubt about that—as we exited the elevator and made our way down the remaining stairs.

  “So,” I said casually. “What did you think?”

  She looked up at me, her eyes shining. “I can’t believe we just did that. I will never forget it.”

  I reached down and grabbed her hand, mainly because I wanted to feel her touch. “Good. That’s what I was going for, but the night isn’t over yet.”

  Surprise crossed her face, and I grinned.

  With a few taps of my phone I’d gotten the town-car from before to meet us, and we climbed in. “Next stop,” I said and the driver nodded. The man already knew the plan for the evening and the subsequent directions to the hole-in-the-wall pub that served the best ale in town. The food was pretty damn good there, too. Playing it more low-key and relaxed was what I was going with for that day. Ginny’s hand was soft and warm in mine and gave me a feeling I hadn’t experienced before. Her touch seemed to ground me.

  My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket with my other hand and held it up to my ear. “Yeah.”

  “How is it going? Did she like the private tour?”

  Leave it up to Jim to attempt to ruin the night like a gossiping schoolgirl. “Yup. Everything’s good.”

  “Don’t forget you have to be at the stadium in the morning for photo ops. I expect you to be sober, dude.”

  “Not a problem,” I said into the phone. I wasn’t going to get plastered tonight. I was enjoying her company far too much to want to drink to forget. “You’re interrupting.”

  “Hell, I know,” Jim answered with a laugh. “I just thought I would call to see if she dumped your ass yet.”

  I hung up on him, shoving the phone back into my pocket. Who needed enemies when you had a smart-assed friend?

  “Everything OK?” Ginny asked. I looked over to see her staring at me intently, concern on her face. Shaking my head, I squeezed our joined hands. “Everything’s fine. Just my agent reminding me of my obligations, an appointment in the morning.”

  She nodded as the driver slowed to a stop and we climbed out. I watched Ginny’s expression, waiting for the moment that she would wrinkle her nose at the joint, but it didn’t happen. “We’re going in here?”

  I winced as I nodded, hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be a repeat of the performance at the fancy restaurant.

  “Looks cool. Reminds me of my own bar,” she finally said, looking up at the squat building.

  I laughed and pulled her inside and ordered two pints of ale and some food (no snails in sight) before settling at one of the small tables in the back of the place so we wouldn’t be bothered. A few curious looks followed us as we sat on the stools, but no one approached me outright. It was a nice change.

  “So,” Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is this a ploy to get me drunk and take advantage of me again?”

  I felt my cock rise at the thought; sinking myself deep within her properly this time. Our antics earlier were enough to know that we would burn up the sheets when I did have the chance. “I don’t know,” I said slowly, adjusting to make my erection less obvious. “Would it work?”

  She shook her head, a grin on her face. “I run a bar, remember? I would drink you under the table. You wouldn’t have a chance. It would be me taking advantage of you.”

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that.” I scooted closer.

  “Yeah, well, maybe I’ll just have to kidnap you again. I’m sure your appointment tomorrow isn’t that important,” she said with a quick quirk of her left eyebrow.

  “Don’t tempt me. But tell me about your bar,” I said as the waitress brought over the mugs and food. I was curious to know more about her and how a beautiful woman like Ginny hadn’t already been snatched up by one of her customers. I could see many a man becoming an alcoholic just to be close to her in her bar.

  “It’s not much,” she answered, taking a sip of the ale. “Oh, that’s good. Different but good. Maybe I should start carrying international beers in my bar. Shake it up a little.”

  “Any family?” I asked, trying to draw the answers out of her. She froze for a moment before shaking her head.

  “Nothing to write home about. What about you?”

  “Don’t be coy. You know all about me, I bet. If you’ve ever Googled me, that is,” I said lightly, watching as the dull flush crept over her face. She had. The thought caused my blood to run hot, not at all freaked out. Someone like Ginny wanting to know about me? That was exciting. Besides, better we skirted around the subject of me. And though I knew she wouldn’t go blab anything I told her to the tabloids, I couldn’t take the risk. I still felt the need to hold onto my secrets.

  “You know, you have a great life,” she said after a few moments. “There are so many people who wish daily that they were in your shoes.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. My shoes stink—sweaty,” I said with a half-hearted smile. While I enjoyed the fortune, the ability to do whatever the hell I wanted to—to an extent—the tabloids seemed to follow me everywhere. I couldn’t take a shit without worrying that it might end up on some website. And yet all that worry had faded away while I was with Ginny. It was a thought that I wanted to explore more, but Ginny’s voice interrupted the process.

  “Still,” she said, a dreamy look on her face. “You’re doing what you love. That has to be rewarding. Not many people can say they do what they love.”

  “No? You don’t love what you do? Running your own business?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I wish that I could say that the bar was my lifetime goal, but it’s not.” She shrugged. “It pays the bills, you know? I guess it has its moments. Sometimes it’s interesting, I will give it that, but a lifetime of bartending? No thank you. That definitely wasn’t what I was intended to do.”

  “And what did you want to do?”

  She took the heavy glass in both hands and peered down at it. “It doesn’t matter what I want to do. I can’t do it.”

  “Why not? What’s stopping you?”

  Ginny took a sip of her beer and swallowed it as if it were something distasteful. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  I waited a beat until she glanced up at me, those green eyes begging me not to push any further. “OK.” I reached for my mug and polished it off, throwing a few bills on the table, then stood. “I want to show you something.” I needed to make her smile again.

  She looked at me curiously but finished off her ale, as well. I reached for her hand and we walked out of the bar, northwards, the evening descending upon us. We navigated the small streets in comfortable silence for a time, before we emerged onto the Quai d’Orsay with the River Seine before us. The bridge Pont des Invalides came into view as we walked east. Music filled the air as we got closer. There were barges docked alongside; bright twinkling fairy lights swayed as the breeze got hold of them and rocked them from side to side.

  “Oh look!” Ginny said as we approached. “They’re dancing outdoors!”

  I grinned and pulled her along into the crowd of people dancing along the concrete bank of the river, near the ba
rge that was in fact a bar. She laughed as I swung her around into my arms. I heard the whispers, but I didn’t care, and thankfully they were too busy enjoying themselves to bother with us. Ginny was laughing, and I didn’t want her to stop. We moved to the music, our bodies in sync as she threw her arms around my neck. “This is by far the best day ever,” she announced, throwing her head back.

  I watched her, something in my chest tightening as I took some of her excitement within me. She was right. This was one of the best days I’d experienced in a long while.

  We danced until our legs ached, and we sat for a while along the quay, just talking.

  “You have to go soon, don’t you?” she said like she was reading my mind. I didn’t want the night to end, but the urge to turn up tomorrow, to have Ginny be proud of me, was overwhelming. I nodded and kissed her forehead. “I’ll walk you home, unless you’re too tired after all that dancing. Damn woman, you can move.”

  She smiled that smile that made my heart sing. “Walking would be better. More time with you.”

  I turned around as we got up and groaned as I saw the crowd watching us, the telltale sign of cellphones recording my every move. I wanted to flip them off or something, but Ginny tugged on my sleeve. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “It’s the hazard of your job.”

  I laughed. “I’ve never had it put that way before.”

  She grinned and tucked her arm into the crook of mine, and we started down the street. “What are your plans for tomorrow? Coming to see another tennis match?” I asked as we moved toward her apartment.

  “I don’t know, but not a match. I could only afford that first one,” she said with a sigh. “So maybe some more sightseeing. It’s my last proper day.”

  “Wait, what?” I didn’t know what shocked me more—that she was leaving so soon, or that she’d only been able to see one tiny part of the tennis tournament.

  “I fly out early the day after tomorrow,” she explained.

  My shoulders sagged at the thought of her leaving. There were still so many matches to go in the French Open—I selfishly wanted her to be there at each and every one of them. I didn’t want to play any of them without her. But I was being an idiot. She had to go, and I had to stay. This, I had to know, was only ever temporary. A sweet fling in Paris. Nothing more, right?