Four Play: A Collection of Novellas

by Silver, Amalie

  She probably couldn’t see me without her glasses, which I was thankful for, because it let me watch her as warmth settled in my chest. She carried a small yellow purse that matched her dress, and her chin dropped in disappointment when she didn’t find what she was looking for.

  I stood up with a hopeful smile, hesitant to call her name. I hoped she’d look up and see me, and decide that it wasn’t a bad idea to come here after all. And that if she was there for me, she’d come to the conclusion that she could trust me, and that I wasn’t the dick she’d believed I was for the past few hours.

  She glanced up, and her face softened when our eyes met. The chatter in the bar softened as a song began to play over the intercom. But for how inappropriate as “Black Betty” was, I dismissed it and let myself focus on the beauty across the room.

  Give me another chance, Lauren, I pleaded in thought. I held my breath in the hope that she’d give me a sign.

  She marched toward me and set her purse on the table. We stood eye to eye for a moment, and several expressions crossed her face: first anger, then sadness, and finally, a small smile.

  “May I join you?” she asked.

  I nodded, never taking my eyes from hers. “Please do.”

  I pulled out a chair and she sat gracefully, tucking her skirt underneath her and allowing me to push her chair closer to the table. I sat quickly and leaned in, so that so much as a breath wouldn’t be missed.

  I closed my eyes briefly, breathing deeply and pulling every last bit of air between us so that nothing would separate us.

  “I’m so sorry, Lauren. I never meant—”

  She put her hand up and interrupted me. “I know.” She smiled. “I knew even before Monica came upstairs to confirm it. I put the pieces together. I’m just glad I found you.”

  I let out a ragged breath and nodded, grateful that she knew the truth. Thankful that she was as thoughtful as I’d hoped she’d be. And humbled by the sloppy and emotional drunk I’d been just a short while ago, having thought I’d never get to see her beautiful smile again.

  “I feel sorry for Jack, though. Monica is out looking for him now,” she added. Her giggle faded, and her eyes wandered over my face and chest, memorizing the moment. As if she couldn’t quite see me clear enough, she asked, “Can you do me a favor? Will you take your glasses off for a minute?”

  It should’ve been a strange question to hear, and one that I should’ve asked her about. But I didn’t want to press my luck; I was already shown mercy from the gods of fate when she’d returned to me. I looked around the room, and the clinking of glasses silenced in my head as my fingers adjusted my frames. I slid off my glasses carefully, folded them, and set them on the table.

  Her pupils dilated, and she smiled. The room was thick with anticipation, and I waited for her to speak. I cocked my head to the side and flashed a smirk; it was the only thing I could think to do with the unsettled jitters springing alive again in my gut.

  “Can I take you away from here?” I asked. “There’s still a few hours left of this day, and I don’t want to waste another minute of this weekend without you. I know it sounds stupid, maybe even cliché,” I laughed, “and I know that tomorrow we’re going to return to our boring, normal lives. But I’ve been miserable for the past few hours thinking my new friend hated me.” I bowed my head, and stood to lean across the table. My lips grazed her ear and goose bumps ignited over her arms. With a small nibble, I whispered, “And I really like her.”

  ***

  The Fisherman’s Restaurant was just below Seattle’s Great Wheel, a large Ferris wheel that took its passengers up over the skyline. We’d seen it from the park earlier that day, but I never mentioned it was one of the places I’d planned to take her.

  We bought our tickets for the Wheel and then sat at the bar. What conversation we had was forced, the inevitable night ahead stretching the minutes. I should’ve just taken her back to my room and made love to her, but she was better than that. I wanted more for her, and I wanted her to take back memories of this weekend like I knew I would.

  There was so much I never wanted to forget.

  But no matter how memorable, time and distance made it likely that it would slip away from us. That’s exactly why I didn’t want that moment to fade away.

  Her full lips folded over the rim of the wine glass, giving them a brief red stain until her tongue swept across to get the last drop. Her golden skin was tinged pink and glistened across her bare arms and chest like raw silk, calling for me to reach for her. She wore little makeup, just as I preferred, and her perfume had once again hypnotized me.

  “Are you ready for this?” She cleared her throat.

  I gave her a devilish smirk. “Are you afraid of heights?”

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” she laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that high before.”

  “We have five minutes before the ride starts. Shall we?” I asked, eager to get her inside the gondola, alone, where my intentions were to get my lips onto hers.

  “Yes.” Taking her last sip of wine, she then stood and I escorted her outside. With a shiver, she wrapped her sweater around her shoulders and rubbed her hands over her arms for friction. The Wheel was right above us, the ticket booth was in the parking lot of the restaurant, and we walked slowly to the entry.

  “Are you still cold? I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer you except my shirt,” I chuckled. But the smoldering and seductive look in her eyes nearly brought me to my knees, reveling in the thought of being alone with her in a few short minutes.

  “Is that what you’re going to do, hero? Offer me the shirt from your back?” We laughed, and I handed the attendant our tickets.

  The minutes stretched longer than any two minutes in the history of minutes. Extreme, maybe, but I’d only be looking for her sign of approval before I let my inhibitions go. I wasn’t going to miss another opportunity with Lauren.

  We inched our way up the line, one inappropriate thought after another flooding into my mind, and I imagined every possible compromising situation I’d have her in that night, if she’d let me.

  The wait was agonizing.

  Finally, our gondola got into position, and a man ushered us in. There was room enough for four inside the glass bubble, but since there was no one waiting behind us, he shut the doors and pressed a button to make us rise.

  Lauren sat with her long, smooth legs crossed over each other, setting her purse on the seat next to her. She scooted over to the corner, and I sat opposite her. Watching her closely, I hooded my eyes as her anticipation bobbed in her foot and she fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

  “If I forget to tell you,” she interrupted my heated gaze, “thank you for today. This is the best weekend I’ve ever had.”

  “You’re welcome.” I smiled. “Me too.”

  There were no lights on inside the gondola, and as we lifted from the ground the entire city lowered beneath us, giving us an illuminating view of the nightlife Seattle offered. It was a depressing thought to remember that just twenty-four hours earlier I could’ve called that city my home. I didn’t know if it made me a jackass or proud that I hadn’t taken Jack’s offer, but at that moment and with another glance at Lauren, I knew there was no other place I should’ve been.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, as we reached the peak and started our descent. The sun was beginning to set and the small orange burst lowered into the ocean, little by little. There was nothing to see for miles except dark waters and an occasional fishing boat.

  She stood, and with the slight rocking of the gondola, she took a step toward me. I sat casually, my hands crossed over my lap and my feet spread apart.

  With one leg between mine, and her knee bent on the bench at my side, she leaned in for a kiss and I hungrily returned it. It seemed she’d had the same intentions as I did before we got there, and I was restless to taste her sweet lips again.

  She climbed on top of my lap effortlessly, one leg on
either side of me, and folded herself into me. All the while her tongue entangled with mine, and her hips began to glide against me.

  “I want you here. Now,” I mumbled, taking my mouth away from hers briefly.

  She grabbed a handful of my hair with a soft tug, leaning back in for more.

  I brought my hand to the apex of her thighs and another rush of goose bumps ignited across her skin. I was nervous to touch her, but greedy. She was too perfect for a guy like me. I was fumbling idiot most of the time, but with her it didn’t seem to matter.

  She rewarded me with a soft moan, coaxing me to continue, and a frenzied satisfaction rolled through me. Sweeping one finger over her cotton panties, I brushed lightly against her sensitive bud, and her hips lowered as she attempted to grind herself against my hand. But I wouldn’t allow this moment to go beyond teasing—not in a place so public and foreign to both of us.

  Another helpless groan flew from her mouth, and I smiled against her lips.

  We neared the bottom again and I quickly lifted her off of me, setting her at my side. The usher nodded as we passed, and we put on fake smiles to return the gesture.

  We’d be going around one more time.

  The moment he was out of view, Lauren resumed her position on my lap, her lips returned to mine, and my hand inched below her stomach. “Please tell me I can have you tonight,” I begged shamelessly.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” she whispered, cupping my hand in hers and sliding them beneath the elastic of her yellow panties. Throwing her head back, she glided my fingers along her wet sex while thrusting her hips into me.

  She was so slippery, so sensual, and her nipples poked out from the thin material in her tiny yellow dress. The backdrop was perfect: I had a beautiful woman on my lap, groaning and grinding against me, and the sunset dipped into the ocean with the city lights on the horizon.

  She pleaded a soft laugh, “Oh, Michael.” Her hips picked up tempo slightly, and her shaky breath staggered. She brought her nose to mine just as I slipped a finger inside of her. A gasp left her swollen lips and she threw her head back again as her dark curtain of hair swayed behind her.

  My need for this woman had been building throughout the day, but it was at a breaking point. And as she thrust herself forward, burying my finger inside of her, she released the breath she’d been holding in the form of a whisper: “Michael.”

  Every inch of me ached for her.

  But the ride was coming to an end. The gondola shuddered as it started and stopped, letting the people below us off and a new set of sightseers on.

  “Lauren,” I spoke softly. “You either come for me now, or we wait until I can get you back to the hotel room. We have about three minutes. It’s entirely up to you.”

  She shook her head. “No,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to stop now. But three minutes?”

  I laughed. “I promise, once we get back to your hotel room, we can start all over again.”

  She swallowed and nodded, hesitantly removing herself from my lap. Simultaneously, we took a deep breath, trying to shake off our hormonal surge, and she sat quietly beside me.

  When a woman so fair touches any part of you, the devastation you feel when she pulls herself away is agony. I could only imagine what she’d do to my heart.

  Cliché Eleven:

  Earth-shattering orgasms.

  The slowest taxi in the universe dropped us off at the hotel. It was only six or seven blocks from the Ferris wheel, but I didn’t want to waste the time walking. The lingering erection I had from ten minutes earlier was difficult enough to maneuver without having to figure out how I was going to walk the distance.

  We took the stairs into the building and kept our heads low in fear of seeing anyone we knew. We jogged into the elevator alone, and the moment the doors closed, my hands were on her ass.

  The railing gave just enough ledge for me to pick her up and set her against it. Her legs draped around my back, and from the second her back hit the wall, my mouth was on hers.

  “Michael,” she tried to say, but my body was too eager. “Michael.”

  Yes, she said my name again, but the burning intensity of anticipation was hardwired into every move I made. I ignored her.

  “Michael, please,” she said again, following it up with a laugh. “Listen to me.”

  I stopped my assault on her neck and brought my eyes up to hers. “You’re messing with my mojo here, woman! What do you need?” We both laughed, but she allowed hers to subside before mine.

  “I just want you to know that I’ve…” She hesitated, scrunching her brow. “I’ve never done this before.”

  My lips parted and my eyes widened fearfully.

  “No!” she laughed again. “I’ve done this before, I just don’t do things like this. I’ve never had a one-night stand. Not intentionally, anyway.”

  Her words brutally hit the pit of my gut. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? A one-night-stand. It had always loomed in the back of my mind, but I was a hopeful kind of guy. I hadn’t spent much time worrying about what tomorrow would bring, but it was obvious that she’d already considered our conflict.

  There would be no tomorrow with her.

  Not unless she was willing to move to Florida, or me to Canada. And that was too much of a commitment to think about, let alone discuss. She’d think I was psycho for suggesting it.

  “I don’t want to think about not being able to see you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that,” I said. “I don’t want to think about my world without you in it somehow. But if this makes you uncomfortable and you’re having second thoughts—”

  “No!” she shouted abruptly just as the elevator dinged and the doors popped open. “This is so happening tonight. I just don’t want you thinking I’m some cheap slut who goes around convention-hopping, trolling for cock.”

  The same man—that stood before us earlier that day when the elevator doors opened—cleared his throat uncomfortably. Again. “Nice night, isn’t it?” he said.

  I snorted a laugh and grabbed Lauren’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded and we jogged to her room. She had her keycard in her hand and wasted no time swiping it and opening the door. Once we were both inside, she pulled over a small stool to block anyone from coming in, and I knew right away that it was because Monica still had a key to the room.

  She looked at me with a shy smile. “Just in case.” She shrugged.

  The lamppost outside of the window offered little light. And wasting no time, she pulled her dress over her head, revealing cotton panties and a yellow bra to match.

  In my eyes, she was perfect: round hips, small breasts, and hair that splayed across her shoulders and back. She threw the dress to the ground, and reached for the zipper on my pants.

  Squinting her eyes in the dark, she struggled, unable to see. She was just as eager as I was and didn’t want to bother with stupid details like buttons and zippers.

  My body shook with laughter and I said, “Are you sure you can see what you’re doing?” Pushing her shoulders down playfully, all while still in a fit of laughter, I added, “Maybe you need to get closer.”

  She giggled with me and pushed me to the bed. I plopped down, still fully dressed, and she was finally able to remove my pants. I unbuttoned my shirt and lay there, both of us stripped down to our underwear.

  We were a bundle of hormones, ready to explode. My erection hadn’t settled from the cab ride, and her panties were still wet from the Ferris wheel. Hovering over me, and in a quick motion, she pulled her bra down to expose her bare breasts, and I couldn’t contain my admiration for the beauty of the creature before me.

  She held a confidence I didn’t think I’d see, and yet there was a small tremble in her hands. She was nervous, I was nervous, and we were both in a situation we couldn’t have anticipated. Insta-love seemed too unrealistic for the sensible person. And I was sensible, wasn’t I?

  But there we were—together—afte
r only knowing each other for two days.

  She took a deep breath, summoning courage again, and stood at the bedside to remove her panties. Her eyes remained closed and her neck moved as she swallowed.

  She was more beautiful than I could’ve imagined. The curve of her breasts cast shadows onto her stomach, and my eyes followed the natural line to her hip bone. Her waist was small, and from where I lay, the smooth and supple skin that curved around to her backside was so delectable that all I could think of was how my tongue would feel gliding across it.

  But she was nervous, and didn’t know what to do with her hands. Again, adorable, and I couldn’t help but smile. Instinctively, I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bed next to me. “You seemed much more confident on the Ferris wheel,” I whispered.

  “Because I wasn’t naked.”

  I chewed my lip, appraising her, letting my eyes finally rest on her breasts. “Well now I’ve seen you. And I’m not running away, Lauren. You’re beautiful.”

  She laughed, causing a small ripple in her breasts that made me want to take one into my mouth. I bit my lip again.

  “And you have abs! Like, actual abs.” She poked my stomach. “They’re hard as a rock. I hope you don’t mind spending the night with a woman less than perfect.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I kissed her gently on the cheek. “Your beauty slaps me across the face whenever you walk into the room. But without clothes it’s more like a punch to the gut.”

  She laughed, her nostrils flaring. “So it’s painful for you is what you’re saying.”

  I laughed with her and felt like the luckiest man on Earth. How a woman would find me charming was beyond my comprehension. And as much as I wanted to keep her for a lot longer than one night, I knew that wasn’t a possibility. So I’d just have to make do with the time I had with her.