by Kitty Cox
"You want me to watch you fuck some other girl?"
He shook his head. "I want you to watch me pretend to have sex with you."
Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh."
"But your kisses would be sweeter and your touches more personal." He traced a line down the comforter. "I love how you smell. I can only dream about how you'd taste." His eyes dropped, touching her body gently. "And I think you can feel my words better than any touch."
"Yeah." She felt them as if they were physical. "You going to explain the touching thing?"
"Do you trust me?"
She nodded. "Completely."
He grinned and sat up. "Lay on your back, pull your shirt up enough so I can see your tattoos. I'll be right back."
"What, gotta jack off now?"
"No," he assured her, heading toward the kitchen. "Some aches are too sweet to waste."
"Oh," she whispered to herself, listening to his feet.
A cabinet door creaked when he opened it, the hinge not yet broken in. Next, she heard ice fall into a glass, then the rattle of pills on plastic. One by one, the lights in his apartment dimmed until his shadow returned, his bare feet light on the thick rug beneath the bed. Chance leaned over and placed a glass of ice water and her Vicodin on the table beside her, then walked to his side of the bed. There, he set a bowl of cheap suckers.
He grabbed one and returned to the bed, finding the exact same place he'd been before. "Touching isn't just about the physical part of it. It's also the emotional – the mental." He held up the candy. "Is this enough separation?"
"For you."
He smiled and palmed the candy, using the stick as a pointer. "Good. Dez, tell me if I should stop."
"Promise."
He started on her bicep. "Halo. I like how you put Master Chief in blue. It's subtle, but here," the stick traced the highlights, "and here I can see it. Just enough to show what team you played."
"When I could," she admitted.
"That's normal touch, kid." He looked into her eyes. "The touch I crave?" He moved the tip down the back of her arm – gently – still following the line of art. "It's more personal."
Slowly, carefully, he found the crack in the helmet that was where they'd cut her. He traced it, soothing it, sliding in soft circles. Dez let her eyes close, enjoying the sensation. With the lollipop, he admired the lean lines of her arm, returning to ease the scar, never avoiding her imperfections, but treasuring them as a part of her.
"And Doom." The cardboard moved over her collarbone, shifting from sensual to clinical in a way she couldn't describe. "I wonder how many people assume that's some Satanic symbol?"
"It kinda is, if you remember the story."
He chuckled, shifting just a bit closer. "Yes, but doesn't mean you're a Satanist. I can't find the scar in this one."
Again, somehow, he changed the touch. "Between the teeth and the crack in the pipe," she whispered.
Dez shifted into the pressure, watching his face. His eyes were dark, the pupils dilated, but he took in all of her. As her breathing increased, the caresses moved lower, following the demon's head from her shoulder to the top of her breast, then moving to her belly and the tattoos there. He found the scars by the thickness of skin and ignored them.
"It's supposed to feel good," he said gently, lifting the stick from her skin. Twisting it in his hands, he pulled off the wrapper and slowly pushed the candy into his mouth.
"I think it does."
"I think you're still afraid." He sucked at the candy, drawing her eye to his mouth. "It's ok for it to feel good."
"You're making me addicted to those."
Chance shifted, rolling toward her. "I'm not going to touch you, Dez. I'm not going to trap you. I'm not going to hold you." With his body only inches away, he leaned over her, close enough to kiss her. "Tell me, and I'll move." He could so easily pin her down and force her to do anything he wanted.
"Stay." Her voice trembled, but she trusted him.
Braced on the arm beneath her neck, his broad chest hovering over hers, he withdrew the lollipop and moved it to her lips. Holding her eyes, he let the candy caress her mouth, her flesh giving to it until her lips parted instinctually. She sucked in a breath but there was no panic, and he let the candy kiss the moist inside of her lower lip before tilting, begging her to open further.
Her teeth parted, and he guided the sucker to her tongue, turning it gently as her lips claimed it. When her eyes closed, he pulled it away again, teasing her over and over. He had control. He invaded her space. He made it so damned sweet that she never wanted him to stop. Dez lifted her neck, reaching for the sucker, and shoved her arm above her head for balance. Warm skin was there, waiting, hard and solid. She felt his arm and froze, every muscle tense.
"I'm not moving," Chance whispered. "You are touching me, not the other way around."
"You're so warm." She felt the tingles along the back of her jaw that came with the fear.
He ducked his head, a weak nod. "Are you ok, Dez? You have complete control. Just tell me what to do."
Forcing herself to relax, she pushed her arm higher, following his, until her hand slipped against his fingers. She reached, claiming them, and held him as close as she could. "How can you stand not touching me?"
He lowered the sucker to her lips again, looking pleased when she took it. "Sugar, not touching you is amazing. Better than Vicodin, whiskey, and marijuana all at once. You're the goddess that heroine would pray to."
"I want to touch you." She squeezed his fingers. "More than this, but – "
"Shh," he breathed. "Relax. Let it happen. When you're ready, it will, and I'll be here. Step by step, we'll keep doing this fucked up thing until it's perfect, ok?"
"You're nothing like I expected."
He smiled. "You're exactly like I did. I worshiped you. I can't believe you're here, and, well, here."
Dez pressed her face into the pillow to hide the stupid smile on her face. Then she giggled. "I lied to you."
"Yeah? About what?"
"I wrote the blog about cross-genre games because you asked. I know you're Fyre. I could just make it out on the screen when you announced Silk." She looked back into his eyes, close enough to feel his breath on her cheek, but it felt good. "I watched the podcast once just to check you out. Gingers are sexy."
"You should always wear lipstick. I love the punk look."
She flicked her eyes down. "Gonna go jack off?"
He shook his head. "No, Sugar. Some aches really are too damned good to waste. I bet you taste like candy."
"Sugar, huh?" She liked it. Oh, she liked that little pet name a bit too much.
Chance smiled and let his eyes caress her mouth. "Only when we're alone. I don't want anyone else thinking about you the way I do."
"How is that?"
"With your nipples hard, your chest rising a bit too much, lying spread beneath me with lips as red as wine." He lifted his body away without releasing her hand. "It's like I have something special. Something real." He lowered his head to the pillow, into the same position he'd been when she first lay beside him. "Perfect, but so beautifully flawed. Get under the blankets, so I don't accidentally touch you in my sleep."
Chapter 10
He heard the ringing, but it was so far away. Chance shoved his head deeper into the pillow, smiling at the feel of soft skin against his arm. She was still there, her back to him, her fingers laced in his. He closed his eyes and began to slip back to sleep when the ringing came again. It didn't matter. Dez hadn't even moved. He slept.
Next, it was thunder. Cracking his eyes, he looked over his shoulder and saw blue sky. It was Saturday. Maybe the guys were playing techno or something. He breathed in the scent of his girl, her hair close enough to touch, and tried to drift back into oblivion. She made a soft sound and shifted, moving closer. He smiled, wishing he could just toss his arm across her waist, hoping he'd dream of just that.
"Oh, shit." It was a man's voice, and it w
as in his room.
He felt Dez's fingers tighten on his, and he looked at the door. "It's ok," he whispered. "You're ok, kid. Go back to sleep."
"I'm sorry, Chance," Mark mumbled.
He lifted his middle finger. "There had better be coffee."
"I'll go brew that," Mark said. "Pretty sure I can find it."
"Do that, and close the door."
As soon as the latch clicked, Dez rolled over to face him. "I can't believe I slept that long."
"And didn't scream. You look beautiful in the morning."
She smiled, and it was so very sweet. "You're stubbly."
He rubbed at his chin, the scratch of the hair proving her right. "It's not soft."
"Does it tickle?"
"Mm." He shifted lower in the bed. "Wanna feel?"
Dez bit her lip and lifted one finger to trace the line from his lower lip to his chin. "Prickly."
"Hey, lemme have a piss, then you can claim the bathroom for as long as you need."
She lifted one eyebrow. "Takes me less time in the morning than you. Low maintenance."
"I still need to piss. Take your drugs, or you'll start getting withdrawal. If you decide to quit, ease off that shit. If not, well, you're still a bitch when you're coming down, and I think Mark's scared of you." He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, then pulled free.
"Hey?" She looked up as he climbed from the bed. "I had a good time last night."
"First date?"
Dez yawned, nodding. "Ever."
He used the bathroom, stumbled out, then grabbed a pair of jeans. He knew Dez was watching as he changed, so he didn't bother with underwear. She always seemed to like that, if the direction of her eyes was any indication. Grabbing a shirt, he headed into the other room, closing the door to give her at least a little privacy.
"What the fuck is so important you woke me up on a Saturday?" he asked Mark.
"You never let the women stay the night. How the fuck was I supposed to know?"
Chance waved that away. "We got stoned and passed out. Still can't touch her."
"What?" Mark asked.
Chance sighed and grabbed a cup, then poured himself a coffee. "Which part has you confused?"
"You had Dez in your bed, man. Just don't let that shit fuck up the game. Her, the drugs, whatever baggage comes with her. Not worth it."
He took a long slow sip, well aware that his coffee was fresh and hot. "I'm still allowed to get fucked up on the weekends. If my partner wants to join me, then great. Means we have a real short trip home."
"Partner?"
Chance nodded. "I talked Destiny Pierce into investing in Silk. It's silent, so don't let that out, but she's a full partner."
"And in your bed?"
"Look, you want to start telling the guys that, fine. Will make me look pretty good, considering she doesn't touch people." He tilted his head, daring Mark to keep going. "What was so damned important?"
"Silk won't load. Server records show Braden connected remotely and uploaded some code."
"Fuck!"
Mark held up a finger. "I'll balance that with this." He swiped at his phone, then turned the screen so Chance could see.
His mouth dropped open. "No shit? We're going to F5?"
"August. Need to make sure we have a working demo."
Soft steps announced Dez's arrival. "Lemme know what you want it to look like," she grumbled. "And the coffee smells good."
Chance shoved Mark back a step. "Personal space, man. Or you can get her a cup, but can't touch her when you pass it."
"I'll take yours," she told Chance.
He caught her eyes and smiled, turning the cup so she could take the handle. "Braden uploaded more bad code."
"Yeah. Find out what he was trying to do? I have a backup. We can just replace it."
"From when?"
She lifted the cup and drank, her eyes sparkling. "Every four hours. That's why I noticed server two being fickle."
"God, you're amazing."
"I know. This isn't my first time to do this. If we get the engine working right, it'll make Flawed that much easier."
Mark's head snapped over to look at her. "Flawed?"
"Haven't said a thing," Chance admitted.
"Mm." Dez took another drink. "Well, doesn't hurt to let them know you have a second project planned. Probably don't want to get the team too distracted, though. Splits the dedication."
"We'll do that Monday. Mark, get Braden's ass in here. Dez, I want you to look over the code to see what he did." Chance yawned. "If we're going to F5, we need to get the website up, stable, and start a community portal. How long will that take?"
Dez and Mark answered at the same time, "A week." They looked at each other.
Chance pointed to Mark. "His job. I need dev names for everyone. Reserve them in-game and on the forums. Just block them out of the options. You know mine."
"Kohl," Dez said. "Spelled like the eyeliner, sounds like the mineral."
"Nice," Mark said. "Fyre and Kohl. Chance and Destiny. I just want to make sure we get Most Anticipated Game."
"We will," Dez assured him, then looked at Chance. "Smoke?"
"Yeah. You're gonna want pants, though. Grab some." He turned to Mark. "Braden? I want his ass in here. If I have to get up early, so does he."
"On it." Mark scurried from the apartment, taking the hint loud and clear.
The door closed and Dez turned back for his bedroom. "I'm stealing some of yours."
Chance followed. "I'm watching. Good for the goose, right?"
She pushed at her shorts, dropping them on his floor, and pulled open a drawer like she'd lived there all her life. While she bent over, he looked at the lean lines of her ass, taking in the art across her body. A simple Pac Man map covered her thigh, but at the line of her hip, where pants would cover it, was a tribute to Pong. Across her lower back was a scantily clad wizard, casting something at a warrior in plate armor. Numbers in green drifted above him.
"Your whole body is a tribute to gaming?"
She shoved her leg into a pair of silver gym pants. "Yeah. What else would I do with it?"
"I like Pong."
"Me too. It wouldn't be complete without Pong, you know?"
He did. The first video game, it held a place in every developer's heart. "Pop Tarts for breakfast?"
"Sold. If that idiot did what I think, are you going to fire him?"
Chance nodded slowly. "Oh yeah. Unless he has a very good excuse. That is, unless you want to?"
"Me?"
He moved closer to her. "When I said partners, I meant it. You get Silk released, I'll give you half the company, on one condition."
"What's the buy-in?"
"Your work."
Her brow wrinkled. "Then what's the condition?"
"You quit, I get it back. No passing to your family."
"What if I don't quit?" She tilted her head and smiled, her eyes just starting to turn glassy.
He fought the urge to kiss her. "Then I have the best-damned partner in the industry, even if she's high as a damned kite."
"Oh, I am," she promised. "Feelin' real good right now."
Together they headed into the kitchen, grabbed their cups, then made their way down the stairs toward the back of the building. It was amazing how easy she was to get along with. For all the problems she supposedly had, he felt perfectly natural around her. The most amazing thing was that when they did touch, it felt honest. Like it meant something.
She offered him a smoke and the lighter. He took it, sucking in a long drag. "You cool if I go out tonight?"
"Planning ahead?"
"Always. I was thinking a cute little brunette with a couple tattoos. Maybe a bit of metal in her tongue." He looked over. "We still cool?"
"A bimbo with big tits." She took a deep drag. "We're cool. I didn't know you were that specific."
"It's the hunt. I decide what I want, then see how close I can get. So you want me to find a curvy gir
l, huh? I can do that."
She looked over at him. "You'd let me pick?"
"Yeah. Hell, if I thought you'd go with me, I'd have you point her out." He glanced at her quickly. "I usually find some bar, have a couple drinks and find a girl that fits the profile. It's surprisingly easy."
"Isn't that wrong?"
He shook his head. "I figure it's mutual abuse. They use me, I use them, we both get what we need. Right?"
"Do you?" She sucked on her cigarette. "I mean, really?"
He watched the smoke slide from her lips. "No. I get my high, just like you get yours."
"I wasn't judging." She turned her head, examining his face. "I won't do that. I don't have the right."
"I'm giving you the right." He flicked ash onto the ground. "Know something? It's better having you around."
"The girls?"
"Everything." The tip of the cigarette crackled as it smoldered. "Especially the girls, though. What do you want to see me with?"
She shrugged. "What if I pick wrong?"
"You can't. I want you to watch. I want to do this with you, just like you get high with me. Pick whatever you want and I'll get as close as I can."
Her fingers tugged at her lower lip, and she stared at the empty grass behind the building. "Too much makeup, just like mine. Red lips. Curvy."
"Hair color?"
"Don't care, but long. I like when you push your fingers through it."
Chance nodded. "College girl, then. What else do you like?"
One finger traced the tendon along her neck. "When you kiss them from behind, along here."
The cigarette didn't satisfy his desire to press his lips on something, but he inhaled anyway. "I love lips. Delicate cupid's bows painted brightly." He smiled at her. "Like yours."
"That's the only thing you look for?"
"I have rules." He shrugged, hoping she'd understand. "Has to be over eighteen, they have to understand it's a single night, I always use a condom, and as soon as they're gone, I shower."
The pink tip of her tongue pressed against her upper lip. "No post-coital passing out, huh?"
"It's a thing. Sex is a very messy ordeal, Sugar. I don't want a part of them clinging to me."
