Contemporary Nights Volume One

by C. J. Ellisson

  “She’s right,” ZombKiller says through the headset. I only know my team by their screen names. “If she wouldn’t have taken him out, I’d be dead. Thanks, ERae69.”

  I give her a look and cover my mic. “Did you really need to choose that screen name?”

  “It’s easy to remember.” She doesn’t even bother to cover her mic. She shrugs like it’s no big deal. Between her screen name and her husky voice, she’s no doubt got my entire team panting for a little one-on-one. Too fucking bad. She’s mine until the DASH and I plan on making the most of it. I only have six days left.

  Sharing her with my team isn’t making the most of my time with her. My cock has been hard since she chose that fucking screen name. Images of our own sixty-nine conjure up in my head, making my balls ache. I’m never going to last all night if I can’t stop thinking about her on top of me, her mouth sliding on my flesh as I drink her sweet juices.

  “I like her screen name,” Die4Now speaks up.

  “You’re not helping,” I tell him. He’s not allowed to insert himself into my conversation with my fake girlfriend. None of them are.

  “Are you going to bitch about my screen name? Or are you going to get in the game?” Emma shoots a zombie that snuck up behind me, saving my life. “You’re welcome.”

  “You used too much ammo,” I tell her, trying to find something she’s doing wrong. She can’t play TDM for the first time and outplay me. I’ve been playing this game for years and beat it more times than I can count. Who is she to not even understand the story behind it and still play better than me?

  “Fun sucker,” she replies and giggles as she shoots two more zombies. Goddamn her laugh. It fills my senses and renders me helpless but to do something that will have her laughing again.

  “I think he’s jealous you’re better at this than he is, ERae.” NytroVenom speaks up.

  Emma lifts her brow as she shrugs at me. “I guess you’re not the only one with natural talent.” I widen my eyes and cover my mic to say something when a shit storm of shots ring out, pulling my attention to the screen as zombies come at us from every direction.

  “Zomb? Where are you, man?” He’s supposed to be covering my back.

  “Incoming!” ZombKiller shouts. I swing my avatar around and shoot, but there’re too many. My lifeline is quickly shrinking as the zombies overtake me. When my life is blinking red and I’ve got maybe one hit left in me before I’m out, another avatar appears.

  “I’ve got you, baby.” Emma’s brow is furrowed in concentration as she rushes in, taking out every zombie about to kill me. She’s got her tongue swiping across her lower lip and damn if it isn’t an awesome sight. When the last zombie falls, she then moves her avatar to me and transfers some of her life. We now have a half-life each.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because that’s what partners do.”

  “Marry me,” Die4now says.

  Emma laughs and it makes me smile. “Sorry, Die. I’m already taken.”

  “But is it working?”

  “What do you look like, ERae?” ZombKiller asks.

  “What are you wearing?” NytroVenom adds.

  “She’s not your type,” I answer, tense and ready to tell them all to go fuck themselves. Emma is mine. “Game over, guys.” They all groan. “Sorry. I promised my girl a little me time. Catch you next week.” I turn off the game and remove my headset.

  “Me time?” She asks and pulls off her headset. “You sounded just like a cocky player with that one.”

  “How about some you time, then?”

  She rolls her eyes. “That’s just as bad as me time.”

  “I’ll work on my lines.” I take her hand and carefully pull her to her feet. She cringes. I’ll keep us on even ground tomorrow. “We have an early date with the pavement.”

  “Normally, I’d protest the shit out of going to bed before midnight on a Saturday, but I really do just want to collapse into a deep, dreamless sleep.”

  As much as I want to bury myself inside her until she makes those little cries in the back of her throat, she looks ready to pass out. I’ll have to live with having her body curl against mine for the night. I tuck her in before climbing in next to her. I pull her to me and rest my lips against her ear.

  She giggles. “That tickles.”

  “So will this.” I run my tongue along the ridge of her ear. My cock is already hard and I rock my hips, pressing my erection against her. I want her so bad, but I knows she needs her sleep. “Now, go to sleep, baby.”

  “I like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “When you call me baby.” She nestles closer to me.

  I like calling her baby. “Good night, baby.”

  “Good night, baby.”

  Emma

  For the next week Ryan forces me through the torture known as morning runs. He jogs in place as he waits for me, but he never leaves me behind. When I catch up to him, I want to rest but he’s off again. I so want to hurt him. But, we have a deal and since I don’t know my John Hughes movies as well as I thought, I’m stuck jogging at the butt crack of dawn with Mr. Fucking Happy Pants. He’s lucky I like him or I’d push him off one of the cliffs we pass. At least we always top off the morning with an orgasm, so we’ve got that going for us. It’s my reward for not passing out during the run.

  It’s now Thursday night at the mod, one week to the day since we first met and two days before the DASH. I sip the cheap wine I picked up for us. It’s all I can afford after the shoes. Everything seems so different now. It’s been awkward between us all day. As we draw closer to when we breakup, it’s harder and harder to look him in the eye. I don’t want this to end. Does he feel the same way?

  “Hey.” He nods for me to follow him into the bedroom. Intrigued, and yes, even a little horny despite the action I’ve had the past week, I hop off the couch and pad down the hall.

  I am so not expecting the way he attacks me once I cross the threshold. He darts his tongue into my mouth and I return the gesture as my libido sparks to life. Holy shit, where did he learn to kiss like this? I never taught him this. As he explores the recesses of my mouth, I moan into his. This kiss didn’t come from the nerd I met last week. This kiss came from a man with worlds of experience.

  I push him back and lick his taste of my lips as I pant. “Where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that?”

  “YouTube.”

  I cringe and shake my head for him to not give me any details. Whatever he watched definitely worked. It takes me a second to catch my breath. The more I think about it, the more irritated I get. He’s got to be playing me. No one, and I mean no one, gets this good this fast. “Okay, come clean. You are so playing me right now.”

  His features harden as he loses his smile. “Why in the fuck do you keep asking me that?”

  “Because you’re awesome.” As soon as I realize what just fell from my lips, I try to correct. “I mean, you’re too awesome.” Shit. This is not coming out right. “If you were naturally this cool, you’d have girls swarming. You would have never needed me. I haven’t taught you how to be this cool. You either have it or you don’t.”

  He brought his hands to his hips as his expression hardened. “What are you saying?”

  “That you’re lying to me,” I blurt, the wine fueling my words. I should have stopped at two glasses. And eaten something. “You singled me out in the bar and played me. You’re playing me now.” My eyes burn and I have to turn away before my emotions get the better of me. Why the fuck am I crying? And why the fuck do I care what some nerd does?

  Instead of him getting pissed, which I fully expected him to do so he’d kick my ass out and end this charade between us, he sets down his beer and then takes my wine. He doesn’t let go of my hand as he leads me over to the bed. “Come on.”

  “No.” I try to take my hand back. He won’t let it go. “I’m not having sex with you.”

  “I don’t want that. It’s not what you need not rig
ht now.”

  I’m beaten, fucking crying, and completely exhausted pretending to not give a shit about this guy. He’s lying to me, I’m sure of it. No one is this nice to me. Not ever. Once a guy gets a taste of the real me, he runs in the opposite direction. Ryan shouldn’t be willing to put up with me, not after he’s seen the real me.

  “Lie down.” He clicks on the lamp on his end table and kills the overhead light. “Take off your pants and shirt. I want you in nothing but your bra and panties, Em.”

  I don’t think he’s ever called me Em and damn if it doesn’t have a reaction on me. It’s probably a combination of that and the dominance in his tone. He’s leaving nothing to doubt and I like it. I like that he’s taking the decision away from me. I do as he says and climb onto the bed. It’s cold and I climb under the covers.

  He strips down to his boxer briefs and joins me, facing me as he turns to his side. His gaze is on me, heating me, pinning me to the spot and making it hard for me to breathe. “Why do you keep trying to push me away?”

  I cross my arms in front of me and stare at the ceiling. I refuse to divulge anything incriminating. He’s just going to have to accept that.

  “Answer me.” His voice is so strong, so commanding, that I shudder.

  But then I recover. “We are not having this conversation.”

  “Yes, we are.” He rests a hand on my stomach and it flips in response. “Since you and I said our first words to each other, you’ve done everything to try and get me to walk away. To give up.” He leans into me and rests his nose against my cheek as his whisper tickles my skin. “I’m never giving up on you, Emma Rae.”

  My chin quivers as my emotions spill over. It’s so unfair. How does he know the one thing I need to hear to completely break down? The first sob rips through me and my entire body convulses. He pulls me into his arms and I lose it, blubbering on his shoulder like a child.

  He can’t be real. No guy is this good at digging deep enough to get me to actually feel. I’m positive he’s playing me, but I don’t care. I just need a friend right now. He seems to know that and does nothing else but hold me.

  “Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t deserve it.” I wipe my eyes as I rest my head on his chest. He brushes my hair away from my face and kisses my forehead. His masculine scent fills my senses. I hate how much I love how he smells.

  “You deserve more than you give yourself credit for. It’s a good thing we found each other. You needed this more than I did.”

  I don’t like the direction this conversation has suddenly turned. I push away from his chest and meet his eyes. “Needed what?”

  “A little grooming yourself. With me, it’s all surface work. With you, your surface is, well, perfect. It’s what’s inside that needs a little work.”

  I don’t know whether to be pissed that he just insulted me, or hug him for thinking my outside is perfect. “I really want to hate you right now.”

  He chuckles and I can’t help but laugh along with him. I settle down on the bed, my arm curled under my head, and just look at him. He really is beautiful, inside and out. He mimics my position and we lay there, staring at each other.

  He brings his finger up and traces my hip, his gaze following his movement. He’s so focused on his hand that it mesmerizes me. I smile as I watch him, memorizing everything about him. It’s more than his stormy eyes, more than his cute, lopsided grin. It’s what I see behind the eyes, what draws him to flash that grin. He’s a good man. No, he’s a great man. I don’t deserve him.

  Shit. I have to do something to stop me from drowning in my little pity pool. I don’t want to talk about me, so I dig into my memory bank to recall something he said when we first met. His father made a call and suddenly the biggest nerd at BU is a member of the coolest frat on campus. That kind of stuff doesn’t just happen.

  “Tell me about your dad,” I say to change the subject. He darts a quick look at me before dropping his attention back to his finger on my hip. “He’s Stuart Ryan, isn’t he? The head of the Ryan Foundation.”

  “Yep,” is all he says and hardens his expression.

  “He’s got more money than God. Why aren’t you living in a palace or something?”

  He stops running his touch along my skin. “Because I don’t want any of his money. My dad is an asshole. Talk about a player. He cheats on my mom constantly, but, then again, she returns the favor, so I guess that makes it okay.”

  My stomach flips as anger races in my veins. Memories of my own experience come racing back. I smack his chest. “No, Ryan. That’s never okay.”

  He studies me. “What happened?”

  I sigh and stare at my knees. “My dad left my mom and me when I was in the sixth grade. No goodbye. No explanation. Just shows up one day with a younger version of my mom and tells us he wants a divorce. To this day I still don’t understand why he left.”

  “So that’s it,” Ryan whispers and brushes the hair from my face. “That’s why you push everyone away. You don’t want to let them in, only for them to break your heart when they leave.”

  “Ryan…” I hate how well he knows me. My heart pinches at the truth and it fucking hurts. And, yet, I can’t help but feel a little relief that he knows.

  “You know him leaving wasn’t your fault, right?”

  “Not if you ask my mom,” I bit back, staring at my toes. I hate talking about this. I hate the way it makes me feel, so vulnerable. I’d rather go back to being snarky, pushing people away. At least then I never have to talk about why I’m so fucked up.

  He sits up and gently kisses me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I wish I could believe him but we already know the inevitable. We have to accept it, which means I have to push him away before he busts through all my armor. I close off my emotions and put on my snarkiest mask yet. “We both are. Two days, buddy. Two days and we’ll be free of each other. No more shackles. No more ball and chain.”

  He falls back onto the bed with a sigh. “You’re killing me here.”

  “I can go sleep on the couch if that would make it easier.”

  “No, goddamn it!” He springs up and cups my neck. When he sighs, it tickles my face and I close my eyes. “You are not pushing me away and you are not going anywhere.”

  “You clearly don’t know me, then.”

  “I know you better than you think I do.” He kisses me, not as an act of seduction, but more of an act of healing. And it melts into me, warming me. “Talk to me, baby. We can stay up all night if you want. Just talk to me.”

  Now I know why he wanted me stripped down. I’m exposed with nothing to hide behind but my attitude. I settle on the bed and he does the same. “I’m not usually the talker. I’m usually the talkee. I don’t want to talk about me.”

  After several seconds of us staring at each other, he nods. “You know,” he starts and I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t say something else that will force me to dig deeper inside myself to figure out why I’m completely screwed up. “I don’t want you to get a big head or anything, but you’re about as close as it gets to my best friend.” He snaps his brow into a frown as he starts back up on tracing my hipbone, like his admission took everything he had.

  “Who else is going to kick your ass in video games?”

  He chuckles but the smile quickly melts from his face. “Do you think, when this is all over, we’ll still be friends?”

  My heart skips a few beats as that question haunts my thoughts. “I don’t think we’ll be like this,” I say and it hurts to admit.

  “But it’s not off the table,” he repeats my words back to me.

  I smile through the ache in my heart. “I think it is. After the DASH, everything changes. You’ll be released into the wild.”

  He rolls to his back and stares at the ceiling. “What if I don’t want what’s between us to end?”

  This time my heart stops beating altogether. As much as I want to stay with him, he needs to get out there. I want him to myself fr
om here until forever, but I can’t do that to him. He needs to experience what it’s like to be what women want. If he doesn’t, I’ll never know if it’s me he really wants, or if I’m just the first girl to say yes.

  It’s my turn to trace his body. I start by running my finger along his hard abs. “We have a deal, Ryan. It’s too late to back out now.”

  He sighs hard. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “It’s time for baby bird to fly from the nest.”

  He shakes his head. “Where do you come up with your crazy sayings?”

  “It’s just how I roll.”

  “I’m never going to find anyone else like you,” he confesses.

  I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, fighting against tears. My heart is breaking. Our relationship isn’t real, and yet, it feels real. We’re breaking up at the DASH. That only gives me two days left with him. I don’t want them to be filled with sadness and dread, so I change the subject. “Tomorrow I get my grade on my Java midterm. We’ll see how good you really are.”

  “I predict a solid ‘B’.”

  “What?” I push off his chest. “I gave you ‘A’ material on your paper.”

  “I changed some of it to make it sound more like me. I got a ‘B’. You’ve barely gotten ‘C’s on your labs. If you turn in ‘A’ material, they’ll know you didn’t do it. You could be suspended if they find out you let someone else do your midterm. We both could. With you already being on academic probation, something like this could get you kicked out.”

  I can’t breathe. Kicked out of BU? I’d die. And if I didn’t die, my mom would kill me anyway. I settle back onto his chest. “I guess we just make sure no one finds out.”

  After several seconds of enjoying the silence Ryan speaks up. “There’s something else I want to do before this is all over.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to make love to you.” He’s watching me when I sit up. I don’t have the strength to do anything more than stare at him as I process his request. “We’ve only had sex. Friends with benefits keep it physical. No emotion. Tonight, I don’t want to be your friend, Em. Tonight, I want to be your lover.” He rests a hand against my cheek and brushes the pad of his thumb under my eye. “Let me make love to you, baby. Just for tonight, let’s forget about our deal. Let’s love each other. No one will ever know. It’ll be our secret.”