End Game: A Gamer Romance

by Swallow, Lisa

  His team player nature overtakes the arrogance that slips in frequently, but I’m unsure if this is deliberate or because he feels the need to defend himself and comes across as rude. Aaron’s generally laid back, unless somebody argues with him, and that’s the part I find hardest to get a handle on. How intense is he underneath everything? He see-saws between the two, joking around one night and refusing to be drawn into conversation with the guild on others. With me, he’s usually constant although there are occasions he agrees on a time to ‘meet’ and we don’t. He apologises, and I never ask about other girls, even though it’s in the back of my mind too.

  We had the conversation a couple of times, that we’re both okay to stop if this doesn’t work out. Would I be okay? I fall for the man more every day, frustrated I allowed myself to dip into this type of relationship while not thinking about the complications in our future. Sure, that’s the same with most relationships, but not seeing each other regularly lends itself to a lot of issues. But I’m also not complaining about being treated this way after most guys I date demonstrating they’re a-holes.

  *

  Aaron visits again a month later, sooner than I expected, and this time wants to spend the whole weekend with me. Inevitably the first time we meet, once we arrive back at my place, we don’t go further than my bed. It’s as if we need to get everything out of our system—or some—before we can then function without plotting how long until we can satisfy some of the frustration created by our separation.

  I worried things would be awkward, but they never are. Not face to face, but skin to skin. Our bodies don’t forget each other while we’re apart, but certainly like reacquainting themselves.

  Following a lazy morning in bed, I walk out of the shower and into the bedroom where Aaron’s dressed and wears his jacket and shoes.

  “Are you okay? Going somewhere?” I ask warily.

  He bites the edge of his lip and looks up. “Much as I enjoy one on one, I want to take you out somewhere.”

  I rub a towel through my hair. “Sure. We agreed not to spend all weekend in my bedroom. Maybe we could catch up with my friends?”

  “No, me and you. Something different that you wouldn’t usually do.”

  I shrug. “That covers most things, as you know. I don’t have the most adventurous life.”

  “How about we spend an afternoon bowling?”

  This was not what I expected—movies, a meal… At least he isn’t suggesting sky-diving. “Bowling? As in lawn bowls or throwing balls at wooden pins?”

  He laughs. “The latter. Our relationship isn’t ordinary, we skipped first date conventions. I’d like to rewind and try that.”

  “I thought our first date was the Farmlands?”

  “You mean when we duelled and you lost, and then I saved your ass from Droog?”

  I pout. “No. I mean the first time Thor invited Sin to do something with him and attempt to keep up the pretence he didn’t like her.”

  Aaron snorts. “I was in a good mood, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He pulls me towards him by the hand and rubs my ass through the towel robe. “Yeah, okay, the invite was a way of getting to know the guarded Sinestre and see what she was like underneath.”

  “And?”

  “Squishy, apparently. Easy to beat.”

  “Is that so?” I climb onto Aaron’s lap and push him backwards onto the bed, then rest my forehead against his. Large hands grip my waist as he smiles back at me. “I thought we accepted we’re equals now?” I ask.

  “One of us will always be better.”

  “Only because you have a gear advantage. Your skills aren’t any better.”

  Aaron flicks my nose. “You know I’ll win at bowling. That’s why you’re being hesitant, isn’t it?”

  “No, I just haven’t partaken in such activities for some time.”

  He shakes his head at my archaic term. “How about I let you win then?”

  “Uh. No. I’ll beat you fair and square.”

  Aaron sits, effortlessly swinging my body around so I’m on his knee. “I haven’t bowled for years either, so we’ll have a fair match.”

  “And the winner? What does she win?”

  “She?” He makes a pfft noise. “He gets to choose what we do tomorrow.”

  *

  The small bowling alley squeezes on to an industrial estate close to a shopping mall, the dirty building with dated sign difficult to spot from the road. We open a door to the noisy venue; the roll of balls along the lanes, and wooden clack as pins are knocked over mingle with children’s voices and sounds from the arcade machines at the opposite end of the small venue. The greasy food smell tempts me, and I glance at the hot dog and hot chips on the menu. Perfect for later, after I win.

  I sit on the vinyl seats at the end of the lane, feeling ridiculous in the heavy shoes Aaron brought over, and watch the serious faces in the lane to the left. The other side, a group of chattering children are told to stop playing with the balls when it isn’t their turn to bowl, while one is chastised for bouncing their ball into the lane. At least my fail bowling skills won’t stand out.

  “Which size do you use?” asks Aaron.

  “I can’t remember. The last time I came bowling was when I was about their age.” I point at the group. “There was a lot of bouncing when I took my turn, it’s a wonder the lane wasn’t left with a huge dent.”

  He bites his lips and weighs up different size bowling balls. “Here, your fingers are small. Try this one.”

  I’m tense in this ‘real date’ situation, which pulls us another step from online or long distance ‘friends with benefits’. The act of coming out together like this pushes us into the ordinary, and into the zone of something I’d never do.

  “You first,” I say and sit back on the edge of the seat.

  I’m suspicious when Aaron’s fist shot rolls smoothly along the lane and knocks the majority of pins over. He turns and bites his lip with a grin before knocking the remainder down with his second shot.

  “Haven’t played for a while, huh?” I ask.

  “I haven’t” he protests. “I just remember how to that’s all.”

  Muttering, I gingerly step across the slippery floor in my ridiculous shoes and side-glance somebody next to me taking their shot.

  “Want me to show you how?” asks Aaron.

  “No. I’m okay.”

  A kid to the right dumps his ball down a special metal shoot and it rolls slowly towards the pins. Maybe I should ask for one of those?

  My ball hits the lane at a bad angle and hits the gutter guards Aaron suggested I use, before knocking a solitary pin over. I don’t look at Aaron, instead taking my ball and a second, useless shot. Total miss.

  The situation continues for several turns, and I stare at the scoreboard, pouting inwardly as Aaron’s increases to numbers double mine. I improve marginally with each try, repeatedly telling him I don’t need help. Halfway through a bad shot, Aaron stands.

  “Let me show you something, Evie. Please.”

  “You’re at an advantage because you’re taller and your arms are longer!” I protest.

  Aaron laughs. “Seriously? No, it’s technique. Here.”

  Why didn’t I ask him to show me before? We’ve touched knees, he’s planted kisses on my mouth and face between turns, but now he’s close behind, arm around my waist and hand on mine as he guides and explains. Total waste of time because I’m again encompassed by the effect he has on me and don’t hear a word he says. I can’t help this, and I swear this is worse because of our absences. I close my eyes and enjoy the swirling sensations spreading through my chest and stomach, at the warmth of the man close to me.

  The swirling switches, the chest-aching squeezing despair into my stomach, spreading upwards until a desire to cry grips me. Aaron continues to talk and I say nothing.

  Thank god the tears stay thick in my throat.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Desp
ite hardly hearing a word he says, I attempt to hold my arm the way he instructed, but the rest of the game continues in the same vein. Aaron wipes the floor with me, and my score barely touches that of the kids next to me. Our second game improves a little, and my lifting spirits leads to banter when I have a run of good shots while his drop off.

  By the end, Aaron’s the most relaxed I’ve seen him, and my fleeting unhappiness disappears into enjoying the moment. He ends the game with a hug that lifts me from the floor and a smile turning into a soft kiss. “This was fun,” he says.

  I place a hand on his cheek. “Different.”

  He nods up at the screen. “I won.”

  “Of course. Next time I need to find something I can win at. Like… uh. Um.”

  He laughs at me. “You do sometimes.” He drops me to the floor and cups my cheek, my face disappearing beneath the size of his palm. “You won anyway. I’m here.”

  “That’s an odd thing to say,” I reply several minutes later as we take our bowling shoes back to the counter. “I thought you were here because you wanted to be.”

  “Hell, of course I want to be.” His hand circles my waist. “I miss you.”

  Warmth blooms in my chest at his first admittance we’re more than fun.

  “Good.” I squeeze his ass.

  “Good? I don’t think it’s good to want to be around someone and they’re not with you.” We wander over to the round tables and uncomfortable plastic chairs.

  I sit and push the empty soda cups and half-empty plates out of the way.

  “What junk do you want to eat now?” he asks with a small smile.

  “I’m not that hungry. Coke?” I crane my head to see the menu on the wall behind the small serving counter. “Oh! Ice cream. Magnum.”

  “You got it.”

  I’m not the only one who watches as Aaron orders; mothers with kids and no husbands nearby enjoy the eye candy, and my chest twinges when he smiles down and chats to a girl in the queue next to him who speaks to him. Aaron returns with a tray and a quizzical look.

  “You okay?”

  “I am now.” I unwrap the ice cream and the chocolate splinters as I sink my teeth in.

  “What did you think about where I chose to take you on a date?” he asks, stretching his legs out beneath the table and bumping mine.

  “I think you chose to take me somewhere you could maintain your superiority over me.”

  “No, I chose somewhere ordinary. Different. Movies— nope because we couldn’t talk. I wanted to do something with you.”

  I lean across the table and place my mouth on his. “I miss you, Aaron.”

  “All the more reason to spend time together doing crazy things. As I won, I get to choose the next.”

  “Mmm?”

  “The zoo.”

  “Uh. What? Really?”

  “Yep. Tomorrow before I go home.”

  And there it is again, the stab in the eye that causes tears. Aaron studies my face for a moment and I pray he can’t see the glistening.

  “You okay?” he asks again.

  I bite down on the ice cream again and smile through the chocolate. “Brain freeze.”

  The look Aaron gives me is filled with doubt and he squeezes my hand. “If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I’ll let you choose.”

  I shake my head with a smile. “No. You won.”

  21

  “How pissed off is Tyler with you?” Aaron asks as he sits on the small sofa in the corner of my bedroom.

  “What about?”

  “The raid. I know it’s the guild’s Saturday evening meet, but he knew we were spending the weekend together.”

  “I don’t think it’s just him, Lorlien snarks when raid progression fails all the time too. We’re letting the team down.” Aaron opens his mouth to say something. “I hope you’re not about to suggest we raid!”

  “No, but…”

  “But?” I swallow. I don’t know how to take this response. We’re together, and he’s pulled to the game instead?

  “We’d still be together.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask, mouth falling open.

  “The team…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Forget it. Fleeting thought.”

  “Good, because I was about to change your mind.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I don’t like this idea that you think you win all the time.”

  “I mostly do.”

  “So you’re telling me you can’t surrender to the power I have over you?”

  A muscle in his cheek twitches. “I thought you said you didn’t want to play?”

  “No, I don’t.” I bite back amusement at my double meaning. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about the game when you have me in the room. Naked.”

  “But you’re not…” I pull my t-shirt over my head. “Naked.”

  “True.” Unbuttoning my jeans, I turn my back and slide them down. I turn back and Aaron’s frozen in place, eyes darkening as his eyes travel slowly across my body.

  “Okay. Distraction successful,” he says in a hoarse voice.

  I unhook my bra and drop it to the floor. What does this man do to me that I crave to be naked with him permanently, to the point I’m prepared to strip in front of him? The reaction to Aaron wanting me, appreciating what he sees, turns me on one hell of a lot. He’s passionate, but I’m always the one falling apart while he manages to hold himself together, keep control of himself and the situation until the last minute.

  Plus his gloating over how he won rings in my head.

  Wearing just my lace panties—a girl needs some modesty—I move towards Aaron and straddle his lap. I grip Aaron’s hair and close my mouth over his, pushing him back with one hand, fooling myself I could ever hold him in place. But the strength in my arms isn’t needed. He’s yielding to me in a way I never expected from this controlled man. I move my hips, so he brushes my sex, and his rough denim slides against me too. I could undress him, but this feels dirtier; more urgent.

  He grabs my ass, but I push his hands away again and flick open his jean’s button and wrap my hand around him. He doesn’t get to talk any control in this situation. Hand still on his chest, I step down and out of my panties. Aaron moves out of his jeans but barely has time to undress before I find and roll a condom onto him.

  I rest my head against his as I kneel above him, legs either side. He doesn’t touch himself or me, but the arousal from the situation has me slick and ready. His tip bumps against my clit as I rub myself along him. Our eyes meet again, and the lust marks the control, perspiration on his brow.

  Without a word, I slowly lower myself onto him, the sensation of him filling and stretching me pushing me away from control too but I hang on, remaining still as I savour him.

  “Fuck, Evie,” he breathes out.

  I edge out of him inch by inch, teasingly slow and his breath comes faster. The fingers digging into my ass pull me down, hard, so he slams into me. I pause again, and he grumbles, moving his hips against mine.

  This is me. I own this. I own him. Pushing both hands against his chest, I do what I promised and ride Aaron, hard, watching at what points his face shows the least control and move him further in that direction. He’s always focused on my pleasure, and what girl wouldn’t like that, but I need to beat him. I need to see him as the one losing control.

  “You’re in dangerous territory,” he growls out. “Seriously, Evie.”

  “Mmm?” I press my breasts against his face. His mouth closes around my nipple, as he palms the soft mounds. The electrical surges light my body, pulling at my insides as I rub against him.

  No. I won’t come first. This time him. I slow and Aaron drops his head back, swearing under his breath. “Evie… Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Make me lose control.” His face. The look in Aaron’s eyes, the man beneath revealed appears in a way I don’t expect. “You really don’t want me to.”

  “I think I do,�
� I murmur. “ I think that’s exactly what I want. I’m going to fuck you hard until –“

  I’m halted by his mouth on mine, by him standing and holding me beneath the legs. His strength allows him to do something no guy has before, as he holds and slides me against his cock hard, back and forth, my legs around his waist.

  Holy…

  Aaron slams my back against the wall and holds my hands over my head, sinks his teeth into my shoulder. I arch my back to meet him as his movement becomes harder.

  Should I be scared of Aaron and what I’ve teased out of him? This man’s stronger than any I’ve met before. Aaron’s stopped before when I asked him to, but would he again? He spreads my legs against the wall, pinning me as he thrusts and buries his head in my shoulder.

  “How many times do I have to tell you,” he breathes out, “that you won’t win.”

  I close my eyes, attempting to deny how fast the orgasm builds inside, how I’m losing my bet, and this isn’t helped when Aaron’s pushes my legs further apart to reach between my legs to thumb my clit.

  His other hand grips my hair and pulls my head back. “Nice try, though.”

  He drops my hair and grips my hips with both hands, continuing fast, hard movements, aftershocks running through me as I listen to him losing control. Suddenly, I really don’t want to win as stars explode across my vision as his rough control undoes me. Perhaps the uncontrolled Aaron is a triumph for me. He slams into me one more time, swearing out loudly, something he’s never done before.

  I did win.

  Aaron seals our mouths with a kiss. He holds me close, gentler, caressing, as my legs shake. We sink onto the sofa, and I cuddle into him, unsure what words are appropriate here.

  “Who really won?” I murmur.

  He tugs me around until he’s hugging my naked body across his knee. “You have, Evie,” he whispers. “You don’t realise how effectively you stealthed and wrekt me.”

  Aaron’s tendency to lapse into gaming terms when he’s half-speaking emotions; as if they’ll protect a confession has begun to make sense. If he professed feelings for me in the way a normal person would, he’d be as naked and raw as I am. But one thing’s clear: his separation from the game’s happening, even if he’s not quite there yet.