Wrist Shot

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Wrist Shot Page 2

by Kristen Echo

He had a face like porcelain and he arched his dark brow as he laughed. “You know I love to cuddle. There’s a good chance you’ll wake up with me wrapped around you. Can you handle that?”

  “I’ll suffer through it. But I like my space, so expect the occasional elbow to the rib,” she joked as she removed her jacket.

  Martin took her coat and hung it in the closet. “You look great.” He grabbed her hand and made her twirl around as he checked her out. “You’re filling out that dress nicely.”

  That was a nice way to say he’d noticed her fuller body. She’d gained a few pounds since the breakup; maybe more than a few. Sylvie had always struggled with her weight. Months of nothing but junk food and no exercise had left her old size fourteen pants in the dust. She'd tossed the scale in the garbage after the initial ten-pound increase.

  Most of the added weight went to her chest and hips. Though she was softer everywhere, causing none of her clothes to fit. One of the reasons she only needed one bag. “I realize we haven’t seen each other in a while, but you’re not supposed to say things like that.”

  His last two trips to Montreal, she’d been too depressed to leave her apartment. All the plans she'd had for her future vanished in the blink of an eye. The upcoming holiday would be a bad one and Martin refused to let her wallow. When he sent her the plane ticket to visit, she couldn’t refuse. She had no reason to stay home with the memories and the sadness.

  “I can say anything I want. You are hot. Full figured women are sexy as hell. You’ve always rocked your curves. Is this the reason you’ve avoided me recently? Because you don’t like your curves.”

  She let out a long sigh and wrapped her arms around her stomach. He didn’t understand because he was in perfect shape. The extra pounds bothered her, but not enough to do anything about it. Sylvie still liked her body, but she didn’t like her heart anymore. “I wasn’t avoiding you. Thanks for saying I’m hot, by the way. That is such a best friend thing to say.” She winked, not wanting to delve into the real reason.

  “Your wink needs work. You’ve gotten rusty hiding in your apartment. That was brutal and looked more like an almost sneeze or you got something in your eye. Either way, you will not attract a man with that. Your new body on the other hand. Damn!” He smiled and picked up her bag, heading towards the bedroom.

  She gasped and placed her hand over her heart as if wounded. “I’ll have you know, I could attract a man with that wink if I wanted. The desire to woo someone new isn’t there.” Putting herself out there to date again was the very reason she stayed hidden in her apartment. She’d dated Renny her entire high school and adult life. Eight long years together that was supposed to end with a happily ever after and a wedding in a few weeks.

  Her stomach knotted. She followed Martin without paying attention and bumped into him when he stopped at the foot of the bed. A small queen-sized bed.

  He turned to face her, and his smile was nothing short of mesmerizing. “I have practice right away. Those fans ate up more time than I expected, but I’ll take you to dinner tonight and introduce you to a few friends. I dare you to flirt. You don’t have to take anyone to bed, except me, of course. But show them the Sylvie charm.”

  “I don’t want to.” She stomped her foot, and he laughed. When they were kids, he always loved to challenge people to do stupid things. Truth or dare was practically his middle name in high school.

  “A quick game of war will decide,” he said, tossing her bag next to the bed.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and his eyes followed the v of her neckline. “What are we, twelve?” When he didn’t answer, she knew he was serious. “Fine. I’ll kick your ass and when I win, you will look mighty foolish wearing my outfit choice at dinner.”

  Martin licked his lips. Another shiver raced over her as he reached into his bedside drawer. He pulled out a deck of cards. That’s not what she kept next to her bed. A blush stained her cheeks. He jumped onto the bed and lay flat on his stomach. She joined him and sat with her legs crossed. They’d played this game countless times in his childhood bedroom or in the halls at school. He shuffled the deck and peered up at her, looking like the boy she’d known. In many ways he was the same kid who lived a few doors down, only he was all grown up. They both were.

  “No cheating. I’ll cut the deck and deal.” Sylvie rubbed her hands together as her diabolical plan to embarrass him hatched. She pictured him in a funny wig and suspenders.

  Once the cards were dealt and the game was underway, she found she was no longer forcing her smile. Spending time with Martin turned out to be exactly what she needed to feel good again. “I missed you, and I’m sorry I took this long to visit.”

  His ten beat her four; his three killed her two, and the game was not going her way. “It’s all good. You’re here now and war.” The matching kings dueled, but Martin’s jack took the loot.

  After the first round, he had double the number of cards she had. The chances of her winning were slim to none. “I’ll wear whatever you want, but no flirting. I’m not ready,” she pleaded her case as he beat yet another of her cards.

  His smile only deepened. Round two turned into more of the same. “We’re going to declare me the winner right now. I need to get ready and rush out. I’ll pick your outfit too, just for trying to renege. You’ve got a few hours to get ready.” He rolled off the bed and strode out of the room.

  “Esti de gros cave!” The last thing she was in the mood for after a long flight was a long evening being fake. The big idiot thought he was helping, but he wasn’t. Sylvie pushed the cards onto the floor. Her tantrum wouldn’t make one bit of difference. She pounded the mattress with her fists, but it solved nothing. She picked up a few cards and then stormed out of the room after him. He must have forgotten what a broken heart felt like and how long it takes to heal.

  She opened the door to the bathroom expecting to find him brushing his teeth or cleaning his ears. Not standing buck naked, stepping into the shower. “Merde. S… sorry.”

  “Was there something you wanted or were you planning to join me?” He gripped the shower curtain in his hand, but didn’t pull it closed.

  Her cheeks heated as her eyes moved the length of his arm and down his torso. “I… The… Why didn’t you lock the door?” That would have been the time to turn around, but she didn’t. She saw everything; every inch of him. And there were many inches to take in.

  “I’m used to living alone, besides I have nothing you haven’t seen before.” Martin finally closed the curtain and she exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

  She might have seen a man’s naked body before, but never his. Never one so pristine and so hot that she drooled. Sylvie turned and left him alone to shower. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Heat crept over her. The water turned on and she pictured it running over his pale skin. She tried not to focus on all those muscles and the trail of dark hair that ended between his legs. Her breathing accelerated and her thighs clenched together.

  Fanning her face, she had to admit that she was attracted to him. It was wrong of her to look at him and get turned on. Or was it? This wasn’t the same boy who stole her candy at Halloween, or the same kid who dared her to jump the fence behind the school. He was a man now. A single adult. They were both single for the first time at the same time. But she wasn’t ready for another relationship and he wasn’t offering her one.

  He couldn’t be interested in her that way either. They were friends; best friends. He’d told her to flirt tonight; with other people. The idea of flirting with a stranger gave her hives. She scratched her arm as she headed back to the bedroom. She’d been a salacious flirt when she had Renny. He gave her confidence, and he never cared that she laid on the charm around others because he knew she belonged to him. Or maybe he hadn’t cared because he never truly loved her. When he left, he took every ounce of her self-esteem with him. Bastard. Months later she was still trying to rebuild.

  Sylvie sat down and put her head in her
hands. Her legs bounced as she tried to regain her composure. The corner of a card poked out from under the bed and she kicked it. A few minutes passed, and she was still warm all over. It’s not every day she saw such a fine male specimen bared for her perusal. Not that he’d intended for her to see him. Then again, he loved to rattle people. They’d been friends too long for her to think the unlocked door was unintentional. The question that plagued her was his rational.

  If he’d been trying to supercharge her libido, he’d succeeded. Her nipples puckered at the memory of all those lines and sinew. Sylvie hadn’t had sex in months. Her toys suffered from overuse; however, dating scared her sex drive away. But at that moment it was alive and well. She glanced down at her bag and decided she might need to work out some of her frustrations once she was alone.

  Martin walked into his room wearing nothing but a towel. “Your cheeks are flushed. Do you find it too hot in here?” He turned to face his closet and dropped the towel. His backside was on full display and she knew he had to be messing with her.

  She shifted on his bed and stared at his finely chiseled ass. He’d always been an insatiable flirt, but it'd never bothered her before. She’d been so in love that no one else ever entered her mind. It’s not that she didn’t consider Martin attractive before now, because she did. She saw the way girls fell all over him. But he’d been firmly planted in her friend zone and she never thought of him in that way. The way she looked at him right then wasn’t friendly. She forced herself to turn away before he caught her gawking again.

  “Um… Where are we going later? I only brought one pair of heels.” Not that she wore them often. She was the same height as her ex, and he preferred her in flats. Even in heels, Martin still towered over her.

  “Dinner and dancing, so you’ll be forced to mingle and get out of the shell you’ve built. I’ll grab you an outfit on my way home. What size are you now?”

  There’s no way in hell she was telling him her dress size. “Shoe size eight and I like things that sparkle.”

  He stepped closer and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. Luckily, he’d put on clothing. She exhaled. “Tell me what size dress to grab, smartass. I know what looks good on you, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable. We will have fun and let loose tonight. I rarely party, but with you here I… it’s going to be fun.”

  “I’ll go shopping while you’re at practice. It’s not like I have anything else to do, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Have to play hardball, eh?” He released her face and bent down to grab her bag. “Remember it’s my choice what you wear. There’s no point in fighting it.”

  She jumped off the bed but he was faster. He had the zipper open by the time she attempted and failed to stop him. “Don’t go through my stuff!”

  He pulled out a pair of jeans and one of her bras tumbled out onto the floor. “Tell me what size you are and I’ll give it back,” he said while keeping the bag out of her reach. She made a move for the bra, but he scooped it up first.

  They fought for a while. She pushed him onto the bed, but he refused to give up her garments. She was winded from the struggle. “Some things are private and none of your business. Like my cup size and pant size. If you don’t give it back, I’ll sit on you.” The threat caused her to burst out laughing. She’d said those same things to him when they were younger.

  They both laughed. “Sylvie, I’m more than happy to have you sit on me. As long as you sit on my face with your legs spread open.” He leaned back and smiled. His joke made her belly tingle.

  “Get serious and give me my pants.” Sylvie held out her hand.

  “Fine,” he said as he checked the tag and handed her the jeans. He did the same with her bra. Her face turned crimson. “It’s not the big deal you’re making this out to be. You are now and have always been the sexiest girl I’ve ever met. I’ll pick out something that makes you see what I see. Trust me.”

  “Impossible,” she breathed and flopped down on the bed. “Do your worst. I’m not a sore loser. So, I promise to wear whatever you bring me, but I swear if I’m uncomfortable I’m not leaving the condo.” Part of her wanted to stay hidden behind his walls, but she'd come to visit her friend to start living. This was part of that.

  He rubbed her back and tingles spread over the entire area. “I’ll only be a few hours and then I’m all yours. I’m thrilled you’re here. Two years I’ve lived here, and it’s never felt like home. With you here I have something to race back to, and I like that.”

  “I’m happy to be here too. See you soon.” She pushed him when he leaned in for a hug. Sylvie meant her words and smiled as he walked away. She sat back and enjoyed the view.

  CHAPTER THREE

  T he ceiling offered no answers to her predicament, yet she stared at it for nearly an hour. As soon as Martin had left, she'd wanted to reach into her bag and pull out her vibrator. The ache between her legs only increased as she warred with herself. If she touched herself in his bed with his scent and his naked image in her mind, she’d never be able to look at him the same again. The friendship line would be crossed, and she was too scared to do that.

  Developing a crush on her best friend was the last thing Sylvie had expected to happen on this trip. But she couldn’t stop thinking about all those muscles and inches of creamy flesh. His cock was the perfect thickness to make a woman feel full. It had been so long since she’d felt filled and complete. She squeezed her breast and imagined his fingers rubbing against her nipple. His other hand would lift her dress and discover her soaking wet panties. This was wrong. She quickly removed her hand and shook them out.

  Martin would never touch her like that. She wasn’t his type. It was stupid to fantasize and nothing good could come from it. He didn’t date. He fucked women and never looked back. Sylvie had only been with one man and she'd loved Renny with her whole heart. Unfortunately, that love wasn’t enough to keep him home in their bed.

  That was the problem. Going from having sex several times in a week to nothing left a sexual void no toy could fill. She clenched her thighs together again, but it didn’t help. She knew Renny wasn’t celibate. The whole break while he was on the expedition was so he could sow his oats and not feel bad. It made her sick, picturing his mouth on another woman; his hands touching someone else. Thinking about her ex doused the fire in her belly.

  She rolled over and took in her new surroundings. His bed, like everything in Martin’s place was minimalist. He had two pillows, a plain navy colored sheet set and matching comforter. One tall black dresser against one wall and two bedside tables filled the space. Everything was dark except the walls, which were painted an off-white beige color. No wonder he never spent much time at home, it wasn’t very inviting.

  Sylvie checked out the rest of his place and admired the view of the river. The frozen water and snow-covered trees painted a beautiful wintery landscape. She wondered what sights she’d see while she visited and booted up Martin’s laptop. It wasn’t password protected. She’d told him countless times to lock his information. He never listened. As a hacker and all-around whiz with computers, she’d have to lecture him again. The snoop in her wanted to check out his browser history and see what things he searched, but the invasion of privacy stopped her.

  A folder on his desktop labeled pictures seemed harmless enough. Within it there were several other folders with various titles and dates. One from their last year in high school caught her attention. She clicked on it and instantly regretted her decision. The memories of happier times flooded in.

  The first picture captured a couple smiling at one another; so completely in love, their happiness projected off the screen. Martin and his ex, Marianne, were so beautiful. Sylvie forgot how perfect they looked together. Both had long, lean bodies, dark hair and piercing eyes. They looked like royalty, walking straight out of a fairytale.

  The next was a group photo. In the center stood Martin with one arm wrapped around Sylvie’s shoulder and the other huggin
g his ex. The women couldn’t have been more different. Beside her stood Renny. His short curly hair and devilish smile did not bring tears to her eyes. The anger and the sadness had given way to a new numbness. It surprised her.

  She clicked through the entire album and not one tear fell. Progress. She closed that folder and clicked on another album. Pictures of hockey players and a few men she didn’t know filled the screen. Martin played with some attractive men and she wondered how they had so many hotties on the same team. By the time she'd finished snooping another hour had passed and her stomach growled.

  Martin had organized and labeled the contents of his fridge. Everything was healthy and portion controlled. Mostly greens and various proteins. Nothing looked remotely appetizing. She didn’t want to spoil her dinner, but she hadn’t eaten since the early morning pre-flight bagel. He might not appreciate her choice, but she ordered a pizza for delivery. Once upon a time, before regiments took over, Martin loved meat pizza with extra cheese.

  After placing the order for food, Sylvie went back to the laptop and checked on work. Being self-employed had plenty of perks like being able to work from anywhere. She answered a few emails and touched base with her team. She liked developing websites. Assisting businesses with their search engine optimization and marketing was more fun than work. It paid the bills. Her company had grown over the past year.

  Her phone buzzed and a devilish grin and crystal-clear waters flashed across the screen. Renny. For some unknown reason, most likely to torture her, he'd called once a week since the break-up. She never answered, and he never left a message. A week after he left, he sent a selfie with an ocean background. She’d been unable to stop crying since he’d walked out the door, and the dickwad sent a smiling picture of himself to taunt her. She’d saved it as a reminder he was no longer part of her life. Today was the first time she didn’t stare at the screen afterwards for another hour, clinging to the stupid phone like he might offer her some scrap. She needed a drink.

 

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