“We’ve all heard about how woman are marginalized by mainstream gaming, but here, at Brecken Games, we didn’t think of ourselves as being part of the problem—after all, we had plenty of playable, female characters. It took one of my co-workers to point out that the female PCs that we had were all stereotypically sexist and completely lacking in any kind of diversity.”
His gaze returned to her and didn’t budge. “At first, I was annoyed by her observation, but I quickly realized, she was right. About a lot of things.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, and she winced in recognition of his nervous habit. But he kept his eyes on her, though. “And I will be forever grateful for the fact that she brought them to my attention. No matter how difficult it is to make changes, I’m—we’re willing to do that. We’re willing to do whatever it takes to make things right.” He paused for a moment and continued to stare at her before letting his gaze sweep the room again. She knew that had been meant for her. Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, she wished she hadn’t promised Clover she’d stick around.
He continued, “Our art and programming teams have been working day and night to incorporate these new, playable and non-playable characters into the upcoming expansion of Dark Soul’s Night. And we’re also incorporating new levels of racial diversity into the characters, as well. Gaming is for everyone. Not just the straight, white males most games cater to. We, at Brecken Games, want to provide an atmosphere of inclusion and representation for all of our players. And I’ll let Clover and Jeremy take over the rest of the presentation and answer any questions you may have.”
Tris’ mind flitted from one thing to another like an overtired, hyperactive toddler. Wondering what exactly he’d been trying to say to her. Remembering the sensation of his hand in her hair. The pain in his eyes as he’d looked at her today. The weight of his body pressing her into the blanket on the beach. The desperation and resignation in his expression the first time he’d kissed her. The confusion when she’d thrown the check at him. The comfort of his arms wrapped around her. They all spun through her head until she was dizzy. The only constant was Rory. Every time she looked up, his eyes were on her.
By the time the Q & A session was over, Tris wanted to find a corner and cry. Or, better yet, go home and never come back. As much as she wanted both those things, she wanted Rory more. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not in the ways that mattered.
She caught Clover’s eye and pointed to the door and mouthed, “I’ll wait out there”. She needed to get out of this press of people and hide in the relative sanctuary of her office. She’d wait for her friend there. She’d made it nearly to the break room when she heard Rory’s voice.
“Tristan, wait. Please.”
She stopped walking but couldn’t quite bring herself to turn around. Maybe if she talked to him and they both found some kind of closure, she could move on and get over him. He stepped in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look up. The emotion swirling through his eyes hit her harder than a fist. Nope. She was deluding herself thinking that anything resembling closure was possible. She was better off cutting her losses and leaving now.
“Will you please hear me out?” he asked.
“I’d really rather not talk to you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, ignoring her protest. It was impossible to look away from the sorrow shimmering in his eyes. “I didn’t think. I just wrote out the checks like I’d done for everyone else’s. Whether I’d had sex with them or not. It was stupid of me. And it kills me that I hurt you like that. It was never my intent.”
She blew out a hard breath and glanced away. It was torture being this close to him and not touching him. She sighed. And it was impossible not to give him something in return. “I know. I get that. I understood after I got your texts. It still hurt. But I know now that it was a mistake. And, honestly, I had already been looking for a reason to get out—a way to break things off, and maybe I grabbed hold of that one a little too hard.”
He glanced around the hallway, and she followed his gaze. There were people standing in little groups, ostensibly chatting, but she had a feeling they were all doing their best to overhear. The cloying scent of microwave popcorn drifted down the hall, making the moment even weirder.
“Can we go somewhere private and talk?”
She snorted.
“It can be a crowded bar for all I care. Anywhere would be more private than this fucking hallway.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, I’m waiting for Clover. We’re supposed to go out.”
“This is more important,” Clover said, laying her hand on Tris’ arm.
Tris whipped her head around. She’d been so focused on Rory she hadn’t heard the other woman approach. “What?”
“This thing with you and Rory is more important. Figure it out. Fix it. You two belong together.”
Tris opened her mouth and closed it a few times.
“At least, hear him out,” she said. “I’ll wait for you in the break room, and you can let me know if you still feel like going out.” Clover took off down the hall and left her alone with Rory. Annie stood just inside the break room door and offered Clover some popcorn as she approached. Of course, Annie had made popcorn for the occasion. This was probably the best train wreck this office had ever seen.
“She’s right, you know.” Rory said, pulling her attention from her friends.
His rusty sounding voice settled, unwelcomed, in the pit of her stomach, making it impossible for her to respond.
“We do belong together,” he continued.
Remembering everything he’d ever said about relationships, she closed her eyes, unable to look at him. “You’re so full of shit.”
“What?”
“I said,” her voice growing louder, “you’re full of shit.” The anger she’d thought she’d let go of bubbled back to the surface. If he was determined to have this conversation, they’d have this conversation right in the middle of the damn hallway. “You don’t do relationships, remember? The only person you belong with is you.”
“I belong with you,” he retorted, his eyes hardening.
“You have a strange way of showing it,” she muttered, regretting the words the instant they hit the air.
“What? You’re pissed because I didn’t beat down your door?”
She didn’t respond. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud; she certainly wasn’t going to admit that a part of her had felt that way.
“You said ‘red’.” His voice cracked a little on the word. “Everything stopped, then. Including what I wanted—which was to apologize and try to make you understand that I love you.”
He grated out the words in that gravelly voice that melted her insides. The look in his eyes made her think that maybe he felt at least a small portion of what she did. For a moment, her heart stuttered, and she started to soften—until she remembered who she was talking to, and she stomped on the feeling. He was obviously confusing sex for love.
“Just because we fucked more than once—more than your usual one-night stand—doesn’t make this love.”
There was more than longing in his eyes. Now, there was hurt. And she’d put it there. Guilt soured the anger in her stomach, and she quieted her voice a little when she asked, “Have you ever been in love?”
“No.” He hadn’t hesitated.
The tiny flicker of hope that had sprung to life within her sputtered out. “Then, how can you possibly think that’s what this is?”
He reached out and brushed his thumb across her cheek, anguish clear in his brilliant, blue gaze. “Because nothing else could possibly hurt this badly.”
Tristan’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. She tried to, anyway. One slipped free. Then another. And another.
“What did you mean earlier when you said you’d already been looking for a reason to get out?” he asked.
She swiped angrily at the tears sliding down her cheeks. “Nothing.”
She had nothing left to lose, so what did it matter if she admitted it? “Just that I’d realized earlier that the whole friends-with-benefits thing wasn’t working out for me.”
“Why?” He brushed his thumb across her lips then his hand fell away from her face.
She closed her eyes, needing to put some distance, however imaginary, between them. “Because I realized I wanted more than you were willing to give.”
He was quiet for so long, she thought she’d made a mistake admitting that to him, but he finally spoke. “I was a stupid, selfish fuck. I know that now.” He stepped closer, and she didn’t back away. “And I was scared,” he admitted. “You made me want things I’d never wanted before. Things I still want.”
It was as if his admission pulled her eyes open, and now, she couldn’t muster the strength to look away.
“I knew the minute that I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you that I was falling in love with you. And I had no fucking clue what to do about it. So I just pretended that nothing had changed—because like I said, I was stupid.”
He’d fallen in love with her? Her heart threatened to pound from her chest. He dragged his hands through his hair, and her fingers itched to follow their path. The palms of her hands burned for want of his skin beneath them.
“I tried to tell you that night on the beach. I wanted to, anyway.”
“The flowers…”
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and shook his head, color blooming high on his cheeks. “It was stupid,” he mumbled.
A rush of guilt washed over her. “No, it wasn’t. It was sweet.” She looked at the floor. “I made a joke because I wanted them to mean more than I was afraid they did.”
He cupped her chin and tilted and lifted her head until he could look into her eyes. “I wanted to tell you how I felt, but it went against everything we’d decided on. I figured something with you was better than nothing.” He swallowed hard. “And, then, I ruined everything.”
He stared at her as if she were all he could see. As if she was the only thing that existed—a painful mixture of fear and longing in his eyes.
The hope that had sputtered out earlier flamed back to life, fanned by the tentative happiness inside her that reached for him like leaves turning toward the sun. “It’s not ruined,” she whispered. “It might have been broken, but maybe it can be fixed.”
She saw that same tentative hope she felt mirrored in his expression. His fingers clenched and unclenched as if he wanted to touch her.
“What if I said, ‘green’?” she asked, quietly. He’d only ever mentioned red and yellow. She had no idea if green was even a thing.
A sudden, fierce light glowed in his eyes, and he splayed his fingers through her hair, angling her head to capture her lips. There was no gentle build—just aching hunger and need. It was just as raw and rough as their first kiss had been. Pulling her into his arms, he molded her to his body as she clung to him, relearning his taste and the feel of him under her palms.
Finally, he lifted his head, and ignoring the sound of their cheering and clapping co-workers, asked, “Can we start over? From the beginning. How about I take you out? We can go out to supper…to the movies…wherever.”
She shook her head. “I have a better idea. How about you take me to your office?”
He kissed her again, and she felt his cock, heavy and insistent, rising between them. When he broke the kiss, he stared into her eyes. “I do love you, Tristan.”
Her stomach trembled, but she smothered her nerves. “I love you, too.”
His smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
“I’ve got an even better idea,” he said. “How about I take you home with me—where you belong—instead?”
Hand on the back of his neck, she dragged his mouth to hers, answering him with a kiss.
Epilogue
Rory glanced at the clock then out the window at the nearly deserted parking lot and the waves rolling in the distance. Just Clover’s bug and his and Tristan’s car were left. It was the perfect time to post on her Tumblr. He attached the scanned image of a drawing he’d been working on. It was a torso shot of her with him behind her—one hand around her throat and the other shoved in her panties. Her breasts were bare, and her nipples were hard little points that begged to be sucked. And bitten.
He hadn’t drawn her face—just her chin and the curve of her parted lips. It could be any woman. But she’d know it wasn’t. Particularly if she noticed the fading outline of a bite mark on her hip. He’d imprinted the image in his memory as he’d fucked her in front of the big mirror in their bedroom a few weeks ago, and he’d been working on the drawing ever since. He glanced at his hand in the picture—the one around her throat—and wondered if she’d notice the little detail he’d added.
The drawing lay on his drafting table and he sat at his desk—fiddling with his gifts for Tristan while he waited for her to open the door. Hopefully, Clover wouldn’t follow her in; otherwise, she’d get an eyeful. Sudden nervousness gripped him. Unable to sit still any longer, he put Tristan’s presents in his pocket, pushed out of his chair and paced around the room.
It had been a year since she’d made a suggestion that had transformed the company into an award-winning provider of diverse games and, as a result, had exponentially boosted their sales. It had also been a year since he’d discovered her secret love of kink that had grown into a not-so-secret love for him. And, while he didn’t doubt her love, he worried that he might be about to ask her for too much.
The door cracked open, and he whirled to find her standing in the doorway.
“Clover left,” she offered as she stepped into the room.
“Good. I’d hate for her to worry if she heard you screaming.”
Tristan’s breath caught in her throat, and he felt it in his gut. Her excitement was contagious.
“I thought you were taking me out to supper,” she said, her voice a little uneven.
“Eventually.” He walked toward her. “Did you get my message?”
She shook her head. “Clover was in my office. Somehow, checking Tumblr for filthy notes from you right then didn’t seem like the best idea.”
He stood on the far side of the drafting table and nodded toward it. “The large version of the message is there.”
She moved to stand opposite him, her gaze on the paper and her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she scanned the drawing. She took a shuddering breath as she noticed the bite mark on her hip. Her nipples tightened and poked deliciously against the thin material of her shirt—begging for his mouth.
“My god, that’s hot,” she finally said.
“Just like you.”
She shook her head with a laugh. “Not hot. Just drawn that way.”
“I draw what I see,” he insisted.
Her eyes trailed back up the page, and he could tell she was staring at his hand around her neck. “Since when do you wear a ring?”
He ignored her question. “Take off your skirt and shirt.” His tone left no room for disobeying, and he knew her underwear would be wet in a matter of seconds.
She did as he asked, standing in nothing but her bra and panties. The dark spot on the purple fabric between her legs was immediately noticeable, and his cock hardened as he imagined pulling the crotch aside and plunging into her wet, willing warmth.
He moved to stand behind her and splayed his hand over her stomach, loving the way her muscles jumped under his touch. He teased the upper edge of her panties, chuckling as she tried to grind her ass against his cock. “When has impatience ever gotten you anywhere?”
She dropped her head back against his shoulder and groaned.
He pressed kisses to the curve of her neck until he reached her ear. “Admit it. You like having to wait. You like the frustration.”
&nb
sp; “I like to be fucked, too,” she said petulantly.
He smacked her clit through her panties. “You will be.”
She squirmed against him, clearly wanting more than he was giving her.
“I bought you some presents.” He trailed his fingers over her mound, a barely-there caress. “And, because I know how much you like to be denied, I’m going to put them on you, and then we’re going to go out to eat. And, if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll make you come while we’re waiting for desert. Provided the tablecloths are long enough, that is…”
She groaned as he moved to stand in front of her. “You’re kind of a wanker.”
He shrugged, trying to tamp down his nerves. “You love it.”
“I do.” She carded her fingers through his hair. “And I love you.” Her eyes practically glowed with it.
Carefully memorized speech forgotten, he dragged her against him and kissed her. Devouring her mouth, he didn’t stop until they were both gasping for air. “Marry me,” he murmured against her lips. “Please.”
Her eyes snapped open, and, for a moment, he was lost in their clear green depths.
“What?”
He fished a ring out of his pocket and offered it to her. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Just…marry me?”
Her gaze never dropped to the ring he held out. She just stared at him for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes. God, yes.”
He managed to get the ring on her finger before losing himself in her mouth again, but he caught her hand as she reached for his cock, breaking the kiss. “Not so fast. There’s still the matter of your other presents.”
She looked at the ring on her finger. “I’m pretty sure this is the only gift I need.”
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