The Game

by Kira Blakely

  “Here,” she said, handing a small sticky note to me and a pen. I smiled at her, winningly, and then scribbled, wondering how much money I could bet Nell that Sera would pretend to have lost my information.

  “All done, have a good day, Sera,” I said and walked off before she had a chance to say anything else. Even without looking, I could sense the intensity with which she was glaring at the back of my head. But as I walked away from her and toward the elevator doors, I was realizing more and more that I needed to think long and hard over the events of this absurd day.

  Chapter 8

  Nash

  I couldn’t concentrate on the file that Montgomery had sent me. It had only been a couple of minutes since Bonnie had left my office, and I could still taste her lips on mine. I felt feverish from excitement. She was so small and luscious in my arms. Her breast had felt as juicy and delicious as I had imagined. But I’d had to hold back. I had to give her time. These things couldn’t be rushed, and especially not now during such a delicate time.

  I smiled when I remembered how flustered she was, how her cheeks were flushed and how her eyes looked heavy and dazed. I knew it. I always knew it! Bonnie Calhoun had only pretended to hate me. Deep inside, she wished I would fuck her hard. And who was I to deny her something she wanted? Wasn’t that what I was good at? Fucking women. Making them scream.

  I heard a knock on my door, and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. I’d grown hard just thinking about her, about the kiss…

  Sera walked in, again. “Sorry I couldn’t get rid of her sooner. I had to think of a quick excuse to come in,” she said with a smile on her face. That same naughty smile that told me she had something devious planned. My brows furrowed. I didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Earlier,” she stopped in her tracks and pointed one delicate finger back to the door, “with that Bonnie woman.”

  Realization dawned on me, and I smiled and shook my head. “Oh, right. No, that wasn’t necessary. I invited her to the office, I wanted to speak with her. She’s an old friend,” I said, flipping through the pages of Montgomery’s file.

  “So, you actually meant it when you said that I should patch her through to you when she calls?” she asked, looking confused.

  “If she calls,” I corrected her, “and yes, I meant it. There’s no need to hold her off like the other women, Sera. Like I said, she’s an old friend.”

  Sera remained standing where she was, several feet away from my desk in the center of my office. I didn’t want to ask her to leave, but I did want to be left alone so that I could think my thoughts about Bonnie in peace.

  When she hadn’t spoken in a while, I crooked my neck to look up at her. She had her hands clasped together, looking like she was trying to find the right words to say. She was trying to breach a sensitive topic.

  I slapped the file shut and sat back in my chair. I didn’t want to imagine what she was going to say. I really didn’t want her to go there.

  “And about tomorrow’s event,” she began and a disappointed sigh escaped my lips.

  She had caught on to it, and she suddenly became nervous, like she didn’t want to displease me.

  “Look, Sera. I’m sorry if you were looking forward to it, but I need to take Bonnie as more of a business move. I’m trying to hire her, as you must have figured out,” I explained as politely as possible. I hadn’t expected this reaction from Sera, of all people. I was now suddenly afraid that I had led her on in some way.

  “Of course, I’m sorry. I just meant… I was just making sure that she isn’t one of those girls I need to stonewall, for you,” she said defensively, forcing a smile on her face. Which I could see didn’t belong there.

  I didn’t want to upset her. She was a brilliant secretary; I couldn’t possibly function as flawlessly at work without her. She knew my schedules, my likes and dislikes… in fact, pretty much everything about my life. Was this really just about taking her to the May Fair?

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, standing up.

  She smiled at me again, this time in the more natural professional way that she usually did, and it filled me with a little more confidence. Hopefully, she wouldn’t take my change of plans to heart after all.

  “I’ll leave you to it; I’ll be at my desk,” she said and walked hurriedly from my office.

  I sat down with a thump on my chair, running my fingers through my hair. I was exhausted from all these feelings. Just from seeing Bonnie today. From having her in my arms.

  Bonnie had always meant more to me than the rest of my women. She was the reason I had turned out like this in the first place. Why I couldn’t have one decent relationship with a woman that wasn’t based simply on sex. Bonnie Calhoun was the only woman who’d challenged me intellectually and emotionally, and I realized I’d been looking to find that again ever since.

  I had to stop thinking this way. I had to stop going soft. Bonnie’s reaction to my kiss was purely sexual. She wanted my body and hated the rest of me. That was clear to see. From the first day we met, nine years ago. It was evident how she felt about me, as a person.

  The question was whether I was willing to give her what she wanted, just satisfy her hungry craving for my cock. I mean, how difficult could it be? I was almost a professional at this anyway, making everything all about sex.

  Chapter 9

  Bonnie

  I couldn’t shake an image from my mind — not the one where Nash Preston’s lips were tightly molded to mine in his office — but the one from six years ago. The day I decided I’d had enough of pining for him.

  In college, I was widely involved with social clubs and groups, enthusiastically organizing events. Nash was the exact opposite. Captain of the college basketball team, surrounded by a horde of cheerleaders, and living the high life. The only common ground was that we were both equally excellent students. I didn’t know when he had the time to study. Between doing body shots on Friday nights and banging chicks to the wee hours of the morning. That didn’t stop me from crushing on him.

  It had started as a crush, a mild innocent crush, which I couldn’t help because he was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. But it soon became much more than that. I pretended to hate him. We were competitive students in class, and I giggled at his womanizing ways to my friends behind his back. But in the privacy of my own thoughts, I wished that Nash would look at me the way he looked at those other women. That he wouldn’t simply think I was some studious dork. That he would find me attractive and want to sleep with me.

  The only person I had hinted this to was Nell. But even she couldn’t have guessed at the intensity of my feelings for Nash. She figured it was a phase, a small crush that would end the moment I went on a date with him.

  So, that fateful evening, it was Nell’s idea. She convinced me I should ask him out. That it was uncharacteristic of me to keep waiting for a man to make the first move. I agreed, on the promise that she wouldn’t tell anyone else about it.

  So, I put on a dress. I still remembered that dress. A new red-sequined cocktail dress. I did up my hair so that it fell in curling waves around my shoulders. I tried to ignore the way the dress rode up my legs and slipped into sky-high red stilettos, too.

  I knew where to find him. Where Nash and his buddies always hung out. Pete’s Pub, just off campus. When I walked in, I was immediately reminded of why I stayed out of places like those. Noisy, filled with drunk college students acting irresponsibly, loud music and the smell of pot wafting in from the restrooms. But I had decided not to chicken out. I was going to find him, I was going to ask him out on a date if that was the last thing I did.

  I spotted Nash at the bar, and my heart started beating fast. I still remembered that feeling because I’d felt it yesterday when I opened the door of my apartment and found him standing on the other side. It was a dizzying feeling, even though I was only staring at the back of his perfect dark head.

  As I weaved through the crowd, getting closer to this
guy I had obsessed over since the beginning of college, I could now see more clearly what he was doing.

  Nash Preston had his hand right up Melissa Meyer’s skirt. Yes. I saw that happening.

  Melissa Meyer was the head of the cheerleading squad and a girl who Nash had allegedly broken up with at least four times in the past two years. And yet there she was, perched on a bar stool next to him, and he had his hand up her skirt. Melissa’s hands were pressed down on her lap, telling me that she was enjoying herself. That Nash wasn’t just touching her thigh. Her eyes were pressed shut, and she was biting down on her bottom lip.

  The dim lighting in the pub, the large throngs of people pressing down around me, might have hidden them from other people’s sight, but not mine. It was plain as day what was going on. And they weren’t trying to hide it either.

  I glanced from Melissa’s pleasured face to Nash’s amused smile. It disgusted me. I was going to throw up. I couldn’t believe that I thought I was in love with this despicable man.

  That image had scorched itself in my brain. I could never get it out. Every time, after that, when I thought I couldn’t bear to keep my feelings for Nash in check, I recalled that image. Of Nash’s hands shaking vigorously under Melissa’s skirt, her closed eyes. I had seen something that I should never have seen in the first place. But at least it helped me get over him. Or so I thought.

  And now that image was confused with the kiss we’d shared. Or rather the kiss he’d forced on me.

  “You know, maybe you were just still drunk,” Nell interrupted my thoughts.

  We were sitting in the drive-through parking lot, munching on our greasy burgers and fries.

  “You mean from last night?” I asked, sipping noisily on my milkshake.

  “Yeah, like maybe you were still drunk from last night and you didn’t know what you were doing,” Nell said, scrunching up the tissue paper that the burger was wrapped in.

  “I wasn’t drunk, Nell. I was of completely sound mind,” I said, gulping the milkshake down. There was no excuse for what had happened, as much as Nell attempted to make me feel better about it.

  “It was just a kiss anyway,” Nell added and I jerked my head to look at her.

  “A kiss like that? He touched me,” I said and a smile formed on her face. I knew what she was thinking.

  “But you enjoyed it,” she was quick to say.

  “Of course, I did. But that isn’t the point. What is his game?” I said in a louder voice. I didn’t want to talk about how much I had enjoyed it.

  “His game? Nash Preston is known to just do what he wants. He wanted to kiss you, so he did,” Nell continued matter-of-factly, and she did have a point.

  “So, am I just supposed to forget it? He seemed to have just forgotten it the moment it ended,” I said, raising my hands up quizzically in the air.

  Nell shrugged. “As long as you enjoyed the kiss, and as long as you’re doing what you want to do, why does it matter?” she said, but I wasn’t satisfied. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for here.

  “I mean, you haven’t had sex in a while, Bonnie. Take what comes to you. Especially if it’s Nash Preston. I know I would,” she added, wiping her greasy hands on her jeans.

  I scrunched my nose and pretended to gag. At least there was some comic relief, but it only lasted a few moments. I couldn’t think straight.

  “I don’t want to complicate things,” I said after some silence. Nell was nodding her head as she gazed out in the dark, into the empty parking lot.

  “I know what you mean. I remember the crush you had on him in college. Do you still feel that way?” she asked, in all seriousness. My first instinct was to vigorously shake my head, but I wasn’t sure if I could lie very smoothly to Nell. She would see right through me.

  I shrugged my shoulders instead, I didn’t actually want to say the words. The truth was that I didn’t know what I was feeling myself. Whether this was just a resurgence of a crush, whether it was just a jumble of emotions because he had bought my company…

  “Either way, right now, all I want to do is piss that Seraphine James off,” I said and we both were laughing again. There was some truth to that. She had thrown me a little, with her appearance so soon after our kiss. And you could say that I had partly even agreed to the date the next night because I wanted to trump her.

  But had she not been there, would I have said yes anyway? Despite the scene from the bar with Melissa, was I strong enough to reject Nash?

  “What are you thinking?” Nell asked, and I licked my lips. I’d never told her about that night, just that I had changed my mind and that Nash Preston wasn’t worth my time.

  “Just that this could end in disaster for me. And being with him goes against every shred of belief I hold dear,” I replied, in a quiet calm voice. Who was I kidding? Being with him? Knowing Nash, he might not even remember to pick me up the next night.

  Chapter 10

  Nash

  I was sitting with my right ankle on my left knee, and my foot was tapping the floor. There was a huge guided mirror in my father’s home office, and I kept looking up at it. My father was a stickler for appropriate clothing, so I was continuously making sure that my tie was in place, that my hair didn’t look messy.

  Other than that, only Bonnie Calhoun was on my mind.

  Bonnie Calhoun, the one who got away.

  In college, she was the demure-looking blonde who had an inner fiery redhead. Long legs, waist-length golden hair, big shapely breasts that she hid under conservative blouses and plaid shirts. She was a worthy contender in class, and a vocal opponent outside. It was plain to see that she detested me, and my friends. She’d turn her nose up if I passed her in the halls. In class, she would make a big show of ignoring my presence in the back seats. And not once did she attend a single game.

  Bonnie and her friends never came to Pete’s Pub. And the only time I ever saw her socially was at some classmate’s house party when she remained in the corner, gingerly sipping soda from a glass and pretending to not have fun. When she thought nobody was looking, I caught her slowly swaying to the music.

  Bonnie Calhoun was a delight to look at and an even bigger delight to compete with in class. She was right; we were never actually friends. But then, who really is in college?

  Throughout our years together, she was always in the back of my mind. Every time I fucked a girl, I imagined Bonnie under me when I came. If I ever spent a night alone, I jerked off to her, picturing her bouncing breasts as she ran to catch the bus. She was my ideal woman. The woman I knew I should never touch or bang, because I was so afraid of proving myself wrong. I would never be able to live up to her expectations. I would never be good enough for her. I was set in my ways, and the best thing to do would be to leave Bonnie Calhoun alone.

  I remember that red dress though. The one she was wearing when she walked into Pete’s Pub that night, toward the end of college. I remember it because I had been fooling around with Melissa Meyers, and I knew my fingers still smelled of her. Melissa liked doing things like that, kinky things out in the public. She got some kind of thrill out of it. And I was only too willing to comply. I hadn’t expected to see Bonnie there that night though, not in my natural habitat.

  But she was walking away from me. I had always wondered if she saw me with Melissa, if she had caught us in the act. Because Bonnie was weaving through the crowds of people in the pub, like she was trying to get away. For some reason, I decided to follow her. Something in me had snapped that night when I saw her. She looked troubled, lost, confused. I didn’t want to compete anymore, I wanted to throw in the towel in that moment. Confess my feelings for her. I was going to follow her. I wanted to talk to her. Ask her why she had put on that shimmering red dress that made her blue eyes dance.

  As I tried to catch up with her, push through the crowds, I could hear Melissa calling out to me, stunned. But I had eyes only for Bonnie, who was fast disappearing out of view. I had an incredible urge to spill all, to confess
everything, and tell her how I felt.

  But she was getting away. She had burst through the pub doors way ahead of me, and when I finally got out, I could hear her heels clicking on the pavement as she continued to run. And good sense started to finally fill my brain. What was I doing chasing Bonnie Calhoun?

  It had been a moment of weakness, and if I had a chance to confess my feelings for her, I would have ruined everything. I would have made it impossible for her to remain my ideal woman. To have her on a pedestal. And I was sure she would have rejected me anyway.

  But now I had my chance again. Had I picked her company to buy because I saw her name on the list of partners? I told myself it was pure luck. That chance had brought us together again, but now I was older and I didn’t want to lose my opportunity again.

  I knew now that there was no such thing as an ideal woman and that I would be stupid to miss an opportunity to fuck her.

  “Hello there, son,” my father boomed in his deep throaty as he walked into the room, and I instinctively stood up, fixing my suit jacket.

  Father looked like he was headed to a meeting with world leaders, even though he was retired now and not expected to do anything besides play golf and attend charity events. Sharply dressed in a three-piece suit, with a red handkerchief sticking out of his breast pocket, he walked over to me with long confident steps. We shook hands. He had never been much of a hugger.

  “Good to see you, Father,” I said, clearing my throat. He had sort of caught me off guard, dreaming about Bonnie.

  Father walked away from me and sat down behind his desk, like he was getting ready to conduct a business meeting. That familiar feeling of nervousness crept up every time I was around him. I was always anxious to please him, but not today.

  “I hear that the deal went well?” he asked, unbuttoning his suit jacket.