Dead Man's Bluff

by Adriana Law

  “Lay off, Okay?” There was the sucking sound of the toilet flushing. He wiped his mouth with the wash cloth and sat up; not leaving the toilet’s side, pretty certain it was his companion for the night.

  Emma dropped down on the floor beside him, wrinkling up her nose at the stench surrounding him. With her and Griffin no longer hanging out, Drew was quickly becoming her best friend. She gave him hell, but he was right…they were alike. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, a hand landing on his knee.

  “I fucked up…what else is there to say? I should have gone after her two years ago…now it’s too late.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  “Yes, it is. She’ll never trust me again and I don’t blame her…I wouldn’t trust me either. If you haven’t noticed…I’m not a very trustworthy person.”

  “I trust you,” slipped out. An awkward silence settled between them sitting there on the floor. Their gazes held for several odd beats. Suddenly she was extremely aware of what little clothes she was wearing, especially the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, because he blatantly peeled his gaze from hers to admire her breast.

  “You do, uh?” a corner of his mouth edged up wickedly as he leaned closer, his eyelids heavy, his breath heating her lips. His right hand covered hers, still on his knee. And then his warm mouth was on hers.

  First thought: he tasted like puke. His lips were stiff, the kiss mechanical, robotic. But then it changed. His right hand left hers to cup a breast, a thumb stroking the erect nipple poking against the fabric of her tank top. He gathered her closer and began a full assault of her mouth. Drew didn’t just kiss…he devoured and it earned him a moan.

  Second thought: she didn’t really care that he tasted like puke. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about kissing Drew. He was an attractive guy. She happened to like his personality. He made her laugh. She was comfortable with him.

  Third thought: she wasn’t committed to anyone, and neither was he. Megan needed to stop playing games, or someone was going to steal what was hers, which lead her to her final thought, a name, and why she wasn’t disappointed when they both came up for air… Christopher Blackwell.

  Drew pressed his forehead to hers, frowning. “I’m drunk, Em.”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. Shit, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have kissed you and...” his sad brown eyes dropped to the breast he had fondled.

  “It’s. Okay,” she murmured.

  “I…” He visibly swallowed hard. “… love Megan.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m fucking dying here!”

  “I know.”

  He grinned, “You sure know a lot. How about telling me how to fix it then?”

  “I don’t know. You’re going have to figure that out on your own. You never listen to me anyways.”

  He rolled over onto the floor; his long lashes fluttering as he stared up at the ceiling, knees bent, a hand on his stomach. “I figured you were going to say that.”

  “Come on… let’s go put you to bed.”

  He shook his head closing his eyes, “No. I’m good right here.”

  “Drew, I’m not going to leave you lying on the cold bathroom floor.”

  “It’s okay, Em. I don’t think I’m done puking yet.”

  She went into the bedroom and brought back a pillow and a blanket. ♠

  “How is he?” Chris asked. He was slumped down all lazy-like in one of the kitchen chairs, his long legs stretched out, blocking her only pathway to the kitchen sink.

  “Passed out on the bathroom floor,” she answered, stepping over his legs. She wanted a glass of water. It was 2AM. She was tired and grumpy. Not to mention feeling a little guilty. The last thing she wanted was to get into a drawn-out argument with Chris over moving his legs.

  His hands shot out, grabbing her waist. “It sure took you a long time. What were you two doing in there?”

  “None of your damn business!” Before she knew what was happening she was straddling his lap.

  “I’ve been thinking about your little problem?” He tilted his head up, grinning like a rascal, his eyes caressing every feature of her face.

  She sighed, “which one of my bazillion problems are you referring to?”

  He wagged his brows, his hold on her tightening. “How you’re desperate for a guy.”

  “Hey! I’m not desperate!” she retorted slapping him upside the head, not enough to hurt, but next time it would be.

  “I’ll help you get Griffin’s full attention, but I have a few conditions we need to discuss first…” When he smiled she could see faint dimples starting to form on each side of his mouth, but never fully committing. It was cute, and distracting. As if her hands had a mind of their own they slid up over his chest to around his neck, where her fingers played with the length of his hair curling near his ear.

  “Okay, let’s hear these conditions.”

  The palms of his hands went to her rear-end, cupping it and urged her hips forward, rocking her against his erection. He gently kissed her, “For starters… no sex.”

  She laughed against his mouth. “Yeah, like you’re going to stick to that one.”

  He pulled back, leveled her with a look that indicated he was dead serious. “I’ll admit it’s going to be hard…” his words trailed off and he made some throaty sound as she purposely moved on his lap showing him exactly how hard it was going to be. “…but I’m not that kind of guy… I don’t go around popping girls cherry’s just for the fun of it.”

  She groaned, “Do you have to say it like that.”

  “How else do you want me to say it? I’m also not one to beat around the bush.”

  Her mouth curled on one side as her arms tightened around his neck. She leaned in licking his bottom lip. “I bet I could change your mind.”

  His lashes lowered, “Ain’t happening, peaches. My willpower is stronger than you think.”

  “Is that so?” She sniffed, straightened her back and grinned lifting his right hand. He raised a brow, watching her closely. She brought his hand up to her mouth and slid his index finger between her lips, then gently glided her full lips suggestively back up to the fingertip, lightly sucking as she went, the whole time her eyes never leaving his.

  Feeling pretty smug with herself for at least having the pleasure of watching his eyes widen, she went to repeat the process, only to have him pull his hand away, quickly replacing his finger with his mouth. He smiled against her lips. “I have something else you’re welcome to suck on if you’re that interested in sucking.”

  Her entire body stiffened. “You said…”

  “I said I’m not willing to take your virginity, but there’s still plenty of other fun things I’d be willing to teach you.” His tongue slid into her mouth, a full assault of her senses…and then he did the hottest, most erotic thing…he sucked on her tongue nearly causing her to have an orgasm, right then and there straddling his lap. She whimpered, yes, actually whimpered, her body relaxing into him. The smug asshole laughed into her mouth knowing he’d gotten the upper hand. She broke the kiss gasping, her heart racing. “What’s your other condition?”

  “You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

  She burst out laughing, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, not a problem.”

  He cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

  “ONE HUNDRED PERCENT sure! I’m sorry, but you’re not my type.”

  “Good, because you’re not my type either.”

  Well, that kind of hurt her feelings. “Why am I not your type?”

  “Because even though you put up a good front with all your talk about how you can keep emotion out of the bedroom… sex will never be casual to you.” He placed his hand over her heart, his words vibrating over her lips, “Once you let a guy inside he’ll stay there, permanently. You’re the kind of girl that only falls in love once, peaches…and I don’t mean some silly little crush like you have on Griff…” She went to dispu
te the remark about her feelings for Griffin, only to be shh’ed. “I mean, the real thing. As confident as I am that Griffin isn’t that guy, I’m even more confident I’m not that guy.”

  Hell, she felt like she was about to cry. No one had ever dissected her in such a manner. She felt naked, and quite honestly, a little confused. “Then why help me?”

  He grinned and leaned in brushing soft lips across hers. “Because I like kissing you.” ♠

  Twenty-three

  Dr. Murphy shifted in his swivel chair, allowing his large body to settle into the leather. Megan grew nervous on the other side of the desk as he studied her through narrowed eyes. He was an attractive man, although much older than she was. Age had been kind to him: the sprinkling of gray in his jet-black hair making him appear distinguished. The wrinkles at the corner of his light blue eyes making him appear as if he smiled often and who wouldn’t with a smile like his? She was certain that smile had made many women squirm in their seats. He had also been her primary doctor through the cancer, the treatments, and the horror. He’d seen her naked and unconscious from anesthesia. Bleeding. Cut open. You couldn’t get any more bare than that.

  And she’d just told him she’d had unprotected sex with a guy that was not her fiancé, and he hadn’t forced her, she had wanted it. The blood heated in her cheeks. “Please, say something…”

  He sighed, leaned forward placing his elbows on his desk. “Megan, I am not a psychiatrist…you know we’ve discussed you possibly needing to see one. I can give you the names of several good ones.”

  Her gaze dropped to her lap. “So, this qualifies me as crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “Not crazy. Confused. You’ve been through a great ordeal...a life-changing, image-altering event…combine that with everyday decisions most of us are forced to make on a daily basis and what you get is someone really struggling. I can only help you with the physical side, Megan…the emotional…” Her gaze lifted to his and he gave her that easy smile he was famous for and shook his head, pulled open the top draw of his desk, a prescription pad hitting the top of his desk. “Look, I’m going to write down the name of a morning after pill. You can buy it over the counter now. I suggest you take it as soon as you leave here. You’ve been through hell over the last year and a half…it’s probably not the best time to add an unexpected pregnancy to the mix.” He tore off the top page passing it to her. “I also wrote down a couple of doctors I think can help you.”

  She swallowed hard, suddenly nauseated. “What if I decide not to take the pill? Am I healthy enough?”

  He stilled, a slight expression of shock crossing his face. What had he expected? For her to quickly jump at the chance to erase her mistake? Her brows pulled together, her lips pursed while staring at the monumental decision placed in her hands. The morning after “great, unforgettable sex” pill.

  What if it wasn’t a mistake?

  “You are healthy enough…physically. Of course, if you were pregnant you’d have to postpone having reconstructive surgery…but women who’ve completed their chemo and have no signs of reoccurring cancer have successfully carried a baby full term. But is that what you want, Megan? By what you’ve told me you’d be doing this alone…that is a huge commitment. Have you talked to your fiancé about any of this?” She shook her head, tears slipping down over her cheeks. “Megan, the morning after pill is nothing more than a high dosage of birth control. It’s safe, and effective. There’s no shame in doing what is best for yourself.” ♠

  Megan pushed open the bedroom door and instantly felt a calmness washing over her. This was her safe haven. It might not be the home she lived in as a small child with her father, but over the years it had become home. She slowly walked the perimeter of the room mostly bare of her things now. Her fingers traced the cheerleading trophies and the wood box where she used to keep her jewelry. Her gaze studied the glimmering diamond a little loose on her long finder. “Your fingers were meant for the playing the piano,” her high school music instructor had sniffed one afternoon while listening to her play. Just like everything else Megan was somewhat decent at, she quit that too.

  She thought about her lavender walls and the day she and her best friend Melody had painted her room together. Melody was a distant memory, a friend she’d ignored for a boyfriend. It wasn’t that she lacked loyalty as much as it was that she had no staying power. Anytime something became too difficult she moved on. She was a teenager just trying to figure it out with a deceased father and a mother too busy with a new husband to notice.

  Every dresser drawer she partially pulled opened was empty except for one…inside was a photo. It wasn’t a professional photo someone would buy a special frame for, it was a quick snap shot taken from your average camera on one of the last days her father was himself. It’d been in a silver frame on her dresser for years. Her fingers reached for it, tears already starting to build. How could she have overlooked it, leaving it behind?

  A part of her.

  Pulling in a shaky breath she went over to the double bed adorned with her white down comforter and crawled to the center of it resting her back against the headboard.

  Her father was a handsome man before the cancer ate away at him. He had dark, thick wild hair and shaved his beard only when her mother forced him too. Most people assumed he was a professor of something or an artist; he had the look. He wore nice button ups and ties, but nothing about him was ever neat: his shirt was usually wrinkled because it was one of his favorites and he had pulled it from the dirty laundry, his tie usually hung loose from his neck forcing her mother to always try to get him to wear it the ‘professional’ way.

  He laughed a lot.

  People said her father and her shared the same kind of eyes: hazel tranquility at its best, peaceful… Megan softly laughed out into the room running a fingertip over the only proof she had left that he ever existed. She imagined him perched at the foot of the bed clutching his favorite coffee mug; grinning as if he had all the answers, which usually he did. The tone of her voice was soft, “Nothing about you was ever peaceful. You were a trouble maker and hardheaded. You drove mom insane! If she said it was pink…you argued it was magenta. You were both right of course. You pushed her over a cliff when left. She fell apart, Dad. Paul brought her back. He’s a decent enough man, he’s not you, but he has a lot of your traits. He challenges her…” She sniffed. “But that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten you. I haven’t forgotten you. I hope you’re in a better place where there is no more suffering and I hope you still think about us from time to time...”

  A light tapping on the door caused Megan to quickly bury the photo under the comforter and smear the streaks of tears away. “Come in,” her voice sounded as broken as she felt.

  “Paul said you were here for a visit…why didn’t you come out into the back yard? We’re about to throw a couple of steaks on the grill.”

  “I’m sorry. I needed some time alone.”

  A worried expression crept over her mother’s face as she ambled over to the bed and sat down on the side. She placed a hand on Megan’s knee. “Uh oh, you’ve been crying. What has Drew done to upset you?”

  “The fact that you automatically assume my crying has something to do with Drew is proof.”

  “I’m lost. Proof of what?”

  Megan could feel the hysteria bubbling up inside her. It was irrational to yell at her mother, but that didn’t stop her. “Proof that he’s no good for me. Why didn’t you suspect it was Conner who’d made me cry? He is my fiancé’…maybe he’s called off the wedding! Maybe he’s finally realized I’m a catastrophe waiting to happen!”

  Lillian reached out and dragged Megan to her, cradling her trembling, sobbing form next to her chest. “Shh, it’s okay.” She gently laughed. “This is nonsense. You’re not a catastrophe waiting to happen. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Pushing away from her mother, Megan inhaled a deep calming breath. She was on an emotional rollercoaster without seat belts and it had to end. “
I’ve already ruined my one chance at happiness.”

  “You haven’t ruined anything.”

  “Trust me, I have. I don’t want to feel this way; it frightens the hell out of me.”

  “How do you feel, Meg?”

  “I feel like someone has jabbed a balled up fist into the cavity of my chest where they’ve taken hold of my beating heart ripping it from its safe place.”

  “Wow. Is this someone Drew?”

  “I don’t want to fear losing something or someone so much that it consumes me.”

  “That’s what love is, Megan. You lay it all out there… no matter the outcome. We’re all afraid.”

  “He doesn’t know how to love. All he knows is how to possess and destroy and walkaway. It’s what he’s been taught. Why did this have to happen? I was happy with Conner!!”

  “You were safe with Conner.”

  “Why do you encourage me so much to go down a road you know will lead to heartbreak and misery? Is it because he reminds you of dad? Is that why you’re so persistent? Because from where I’m sitting I don’t think that turned out so well, do you?”

  “I was extremely happy with your father! The man was capable of giving me chills just by looking at me from across the room and he could infuriate me like no one else!”