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A Game of Chance

Page 12

by Emma Shortt


  He swallowed unsteadily, overwhelmed with the desire to pull her into his arms. With something that he readily accepted bordered on desperation, he cast his gaze around the apartment instead.

  “Your place is exactly like I imagined it would be.”

  She turned to him, hands on her hips. “You’ve been imagining my place?”

  “I gave it some thought,” Chance admitted.

  “In three words,” she said.

  “To describe your place?” Chance looked around again. It was homey in the way that he knew his apartment was not. “Cute,” he said. “Quirky. Organized.”

  “That’s how you see me?”

  Sassy. Sexy. Smart. “Yes.”

  “I’m not at all organized,” Meg said.

  “You’re a mathematician. Of course, you are.”

  She tilted her head at that. “I wonder what words I’ll use when I see your place?”

  Once again, Chance imagined her there. On his couch with a gamepad in hand. In his tech room, fingers flying over the keys. In his bedroom, blue hair spread out over the pillows…

  “Come on,” she said. “Let me show you the board.”

  It was set up in a small nook off the side of her kitchen. There was not a lot of space. A small desk was pushed up against the wall. The board was above it. It was handwritten. The names of all his senior management team were on there. Could one of them really be responsible for all of this? Chance did not know.

  “You need to get a bit closer,” Meg said.

  She gestured him forward. Chance’s body practically hummed as he moved into the small space. They were right next to each other. One more step and Chance would be pressing up against her.

  He wanted to do that.

  He was rock hard.

  He had been since the bar.

  “This is what I’m thinking,” Meg began.

  Did Chance pay any attention to her words? Or the descriptions she gave of his staff? The connections she suggested that he was pretty sure didn’t actually exist. Probably not. He was finding it impossible to think. Never before had he wanted to throw caution to the winds in the way that he did right now. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to finally kiss her. To feel those plump lips against his own. To hear her sigh with pleasure as their lips met and their tongues touched.

  But the lies, the deception, how would she ever forgive him if he they did this with that between them?

  Chance took a step back, his heart practically thumping out of his chest. Meg turned at the exact same moment and took a step forward. They bumped against each other. She reached up to steady herself. The next thing Chance knew, Meg’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and then, the kiss, the long-awaited kiss.

  It was everything he had hoped for.

  Everything and more.

  Meg kissed him with complete abandon. There was nothing tentative about it. Nothing gentle. Chance couldn’t stop from winding his arms around her, pulling her to him, feeling her at last.

  How long did the kiss go on for? Chance had no idea. When they finally pulled apart, they were both panting. He looked down at Meg. She looked back up at him, pleasure so evident in her eyes.

  She was so damn pretty.

  And he was such a fucking liar.

  He took a step back. Their contact was broken. Meg’s gaze cleared. She shook her head.

  “Don’t,” was all she said.

  “I have to,” Chance whispered.

  “You’re turning me down?”

  How could she not realize how badly he wanted this? How badly he had wanted it from the moment they had met? “I didn’t say that.”

  Meg shook her head. She crossed her arms over herself. “Well, this is awkward.”

  “Meg…”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said quickly. “I can take a rejection.”

  Rejection? Chance would have given everything he had to have a girl like Meg kiss him when he was younger, and then some. Hell, he still would, because he was not stupid. He knew who he was, that despite the beard and the muscles, deep inside of him there was still the awkward nerd he had once been.

  He moved forward, hands out, saying the first thing that came to mind. “It’s not a rejection.”

  “What is it then, Chance?” she demanded.

  How could he tell her? How could he be honest with her now? It was impossible! They were in too deep. Everything was a fucking tangle, and Chance couldn’t see a way out of it. Maybe if he was at home, on his own, he could treat it like a puzzle, find a way through the maze, but here, with Meg right in front of him, his brain didn’t seem to work right. Hell, he wasn’t thinking with his brain at all!

  “It’s me being careful,” he eventually said.

  “Why is it that you don’t strike me as the careful type?” she asked.

  She took another step back. She was right against the desk now. The words of the board above her, his name right there at the top, almost seemed to mock him.

  “I know you’re attracted to me, Chance,” she said. “I can feel it.” She paused. “I can see it.”

  “Meg…”

  “So, I’m asking myself what’s stopping you,” she continued. “What could possibly be such an issue that you’d reject me?”

  What could he say? What did she want to hear? Chance rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to find an answer that would salvage whatever the hell this was between them. Because there was no question that there was something between them, and somehow, in just a handful of days, it had gone beyond X-Tech.

  It was then, as he lowered his hand, that he saw it. A slight smile playing around Meg’s swollen lips. In that moment, he knew what was going on here. What she was trying to do.

  He inhaled sharply, his brain making connections in the way it always had. He didn’t hesitate. How could he? He crossed the space between them and pulled her back into his arms. She came willingly even as she let out a little gasp of surprise. He felt a tremble run through her. Chance felt like fucking trembling, too. Meg had done this on purpose! She’d brought him here, knowing full well how difficult they would both find it in such an enclosed space. She’d pushed and maneuvered until she had him right where she wanted him.

  “You kissed me because you’re trying to provoke a reaction,” he said, and there was no disguising the anger or the frustration in his voice.

  “Isn’t that the usual reason people kiss each other?” she demanded. “To get a reaction?”

  “Not that kind of reaction,” he said. “What are you trying to do here, Blue?”

  “I kissed you because I wanted to,” she snapped. “Because I’ve wanted to for days. God knows why, considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering you’re a fucking liar, Chance,” she said, and then she kissed him again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kissing Chance was like nothing Meg had ever experienced before. She’d known it would be, the tension was far too intense for it to go any other way. But feeling it, each sensation, each movement, excited her to the point where she almost forgot why she had started this in the first place. Why she had maneuvered Chance into her apartment. Why she had tried to shake him up. And why she had done it here. In this small space. Somewhere that he couldn’t hide.

  The truth.

  She wanted the truth.

  She had intended to get it tonight. Only, she hadn’t bargained on what would happen once Chance’s lips met hers.

  She let out a shaky sigh as, almost automatically, she wrapped her hands around his neck. Thoughts of what had happened in the creative hub, of what she had learned, of X-Tech, of the work, of the importance of it all, nudged against her mind. Meg knew that she should be listening to those thoughts, heeding them, but they were nudging against a part of her that was rapidly being consumed by him. By his kiss.

  Meg couldn’t stop it.

  Truth was, she didn’t want to stop it.

  Why had she thought she could?

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nbsp; She feathered her fingers along the back of his neck. His skin felt exactly as she had imagined it would.

  She brushed her thumbs down to the place where his neck met his shoulders. She felt the taut muscles there.

  She touched her tongue against his. A bolt of pure pleasure shot through her.

  And his lips…their lips…the kiss…

  The reasons why Meg shouldn’t be letting this get so out of control, the very sensible reasons, began to fade into the back of her mind. Before long, it started to seem like all that mattered was the kiss, the way Chance moved against her, the way the little hairs around his lips tickled against her own, the way he felt right there next to her.

  She let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure. It feathered against Chance’s lips. He pulled her to him. Meg let him do it. She felt his erection press up against her stomach. Her nipples hardened against the denim of her shirt. Her lace-panties suddenly felt far too tight. How could she even begin to pretend that she didn’t want him inside her? Liar he might be, but Chance had made her pant with desire from the first time she’d seen him.

  She lifted her hands, brushing them into his hair. It had grown a little over the last few days. Enough for her to realize that it would be curly if he let it grow any longer. That delighted Meg, and she ran her fingers against it, wishing it was long enough for her to grip it and pull him even closer.

  Perhaps he sensed what she was thinking? Perhaps he was thinking the exact same thing? He deepened the kiss. The next thing Meg knew, he was pushing her against the table. The edge dug into the soft flesh of her ass. She had two choices. To lean back, trusting that Chance would steady her, or maneuver herself into the position she wanted to be in.

  She chose the second option. Of course she did. She shifted, scootching her ass along the desk so that she could lift her legs and wrap them around him. Something fell to the floor. Meg had no idea what it was. She didn’t care.

  Chance pressed against her.

  Meg let out a soft moan.

  His cock was exactly where she wanted it to be. Where she had wanted it from the first moment she’d met him. Her body had known it even then, in X-Tech Towers as he’d pulled her against him, and it knew it now. All thoughts of the lies, of the mysteries, disappeared. There was just him and her and the endless kiss.

  How long did it go on for? How many minutes passed as their lips moved and their tongues touched? Meg had no idea. Pleasure shivered along her lips, around them, and ran through what felt like every inch of her body.

  Her nipples ached.

  Her pussy ached.

  Everywhere ached.

  At some point, Chance’s light jacket hit the floor. Did either of them even notice? The top buttons of Meg’s shirt became undone. Who had worked them out of their holes? Meg thought it might have been her, but when Chance’s hands slipped between them to undo the rest, she realized it was him.

  One after the other he flicked them open. His fingers caressing her skin. Sparks of sensation hit her with every brief touch. It wasn’t enough. Meg wanted more. A moment later and Chance was pushing the shirt down her shoulders. Meg helped him to shrug it off her body, and the kiss went on.

  She reached down and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt. The material bunched up between her fingers. She wanted it gone, wanted their skin to touch. She lifted against him, going slowly even though she wanted to go fast. Her thumbs brushed over the hard planes of his stomach, and then against the muscles of his chest. The smattering of hairs covering him made her palms tingle.

  Meg sighed again. Chance responded to that by nibbling her lower lip. Meg inhaled sharply even as she pushed herself forward. She could feel his cock against her aching body. She wanted it inside her. No, she wanted him lying on top of her, covering her before he filled her.

  She wanted it now.

  She pulled the T-shirt higher. They had no choice then but to break the kiss. Their eyes met as Meg dropped his tee onto the floor.

  “Blue,” he whispered, and the dazed look in his eyes had excitement dancing along every single inch of Meg’s skin. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

  Meg reached up and ran her fingers through his beard. Why had she never noticed that the hair curled there, too? Her fingers danced through it and then along to his lips. She brushed against the bottom one. It was swollen from their kiss.

  “I don’t know,” Meg said honestly.

  “This is…”

  “What?” Meg asked. “What is it?”

  “Something that can’t happen,” he said.

  She looked into his eyes…those eyes…they were so damn familiar to her. Why? Was it because the desire that she felt was so clearly reflected back through them? There was no question that Chance wanted her. That he wanted this. Whatever was stopping him from taking it was not going to be strong enough. Did she pause to consider that maybe she should be thinking the same way? That she should be questioning what the hell she was doing? No. She didn’t. It was far too late for that. It had been too late from the moment she had enacted her crazy plan to shake him up.

  She reached down and palmed his cock. He let out a startled gasp. She stroked along his length even as she kept her eyes fixed on him.

  “It’s already happening, Chance,” she said.

  “There are things you don’t know…” he began.

  Meg stroked him again. He jerked against her fingers. She couldn’t help but shiver with delight. What would Chance feel like inside of her? How would her body respond as he stroked his length in and out of her body?

  Chance…a man she barely knew…a man who had entered her life out of nowhere and turned the whole thing upside down.

  “You’ve lied to me,” she whispered.

  He closed his eyes. Meg continued to stroke him. His cock seemed to get even harder against her fingers. Would it harden further when it was inside of her? Would she feel herself stretch as it filled her?

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to be mad at you,” she added.

  “Yes.”

  “Mad enough that I’m going to regret this?” she asked.

  “Blue…”

  He opened his eyes. He looked down. He watched as she continued to stroke along his cock. His fists clenched and unclenched. Meg could see the struggle he was going through. She did not care. This was going to happen. It was always going to happen. Why pretend otherwise?

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Then, I guess it’s time we found out.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chance had promised himself that this would not happen. Standing in Meg’s apartment, in her tiny office room, with the scent of her so fucking close, the heat of her mere inches away from his touch—he had promised himself that he would keep his self-control.

  There were too many lies between them for it to be otherwise. And in those lies, tangled at the very middle, was the horribly big lie, and if she ever discovered it she would be more than mad. She’d put a stop to this thing between them, whatever it was, and Chance did not want that to happen. He wasn’t even sure what “this” was, but it was something he had never experienced before. He wanted more of it. And yet…

  He looked down at her. She was smiling softly. She was so damn pretty when she smiled. Her fingers continued to stroke gently along his length. It clouded Chance’s mind, stopped him from being able to think, but it felt so good. Even with the denim separating their skin, it felt good.

  The overhead light made her blue hair sparkle. How quickly Chance had come to like her hair. He couldn’t imagine Meg any other way. Black, brown, blonde, it simply wouldn’t work. Meg should always be blue or pink or something equally as bright. But then, maybe he felt that way because the light was making her electric-blue bra sparkle, too. There were little bits of glitter in it. The glitter ran along the very top points where her breasts were perfectly outlined. Chance ached to reach out and touch the point where the sparkles met her skin. He ached to touch her full stop. And yet�
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  “Chance,” she whispered after a moment. “Did you ever watch Star Trek?”

  She continued to stroke him. Chance shook his head, though he had no idea what he was shaking it at. “Star Trek?”

  “Next Gen,” she said, and then she was unzipping his jeans.

  Chance meant to reach out and stop her, he really, really did, but her fingers were so fast and then…then…she was touching him, and he could only gasp at how that felt. His cock was so fucking hard. Already, pre-cum was blossoming on the tip. Meg felt it, she rubbed her thumb over it. Chance groaned.

  “My favorite series,” she said as she placed her free hand against his chest and pushed him back.

  Her legs fell from around his waist. She stood up. Her fingers coaxed him free of his jeans. She wrapped them around his slick cock and started to pump his length up and down. Chance shuddered. Pleasure erupted deep in his guts. He found himself rocking forward into her touch before he could think to do otherwise.

  “Blue…” he whispered.

  “Chance,” she replied. “Give it up. Resistance is futile.”

  And it was, it really was. The moment Chance accepted that, the moment he accepted that this was going to happen—had there ever really been a choice?—everything changed. He pulled Meg back into his arms, and crushed her lips against his. She responded to that how he knew she would. Her arms wrapped back around his neck. She kissed him back with as much passion as he kissed her. Chance loved that. Meg would take, and she would give, and that was how it was supposed to be.

  Satisfaction shot through him as he cupped her ass and lifted her up against him. His cock-head brushed against her pussy. Even through her khakis Chance could feel the heat of it. He was going to be in there. Minutes, that was all it would take, minutes before he would feel her wrapped around him.

  His heart raced at that thought as he carried her through to the bedroom. He dropped her straight onto the bed. Meg squeaked with pleasure as he did so. He stepped out of his jeans, his cock now jutting forward, hard and throbbing, desperate to be inside of her.

 

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