“We don’t have anyone to do her voice.” Chloe slumped back in her seat.
“You?” Liz asked.
“No.” Chloe sounded as if that was a bad idea. “I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“Why not?” Liz read the lines aloud as the subtitles scrolled past. “See? Easy peasy.”
“Not for me. I hate the sound of my voice.”
“Liz, you’ve got it down.” Jordan picked up the hero’s lines.
Liz filled in the blanks, and within a minute or two, they were bouncing off each other, finding their voices, and bantering along with the animations on screen.
At some point during the evening, they all moved to the couch, still talking and laughing. Liz had worried she wouldn’t have anything in common with these two. Now she couldn’t remember a time in the recent past she’d had so much fun.
* * * *
Liz woke up to the teasing scents of jasmine and musk, neither one of them familiar. She opened her eyes, and joy flitted through her. She lay face-to-face with Chloe, whose back was to Jordan’s front. They fell asleep talking, last night. Nothing else happened. All that build-up, for such a simple evening. Liz had never experienced something like that, even with Mercy.
She focused on Chloe, who’d fallen asleep in her dress. The fabric had twisted around her during the night. Propriety said Liz should look away. She couldn’t help traveling her gaze along Chloe’s form, though—over round breasts, struggling to free themselves, down a narrow waist, along pale, slender legs exposed almost to the hip in places. The skirt slid higher, and Liz’s pulse jumped into her throat and hammered in her ears.
She dragged her attention back up, to find two pairs of eyes watching her. Her cheeks heated under the attention.
“Like what you see?” Jordan asked.
Liz swallowed but couldn’t work the moisture back into her throat. “Quite a bit.”
Jordan whispered in Chloe’s ear, and Chloe smiled, propped herself up on one elbow, and crashed her mouth down on Liz’s, hard and hungry. A jolt ran through Liz, starting at her lips, and sliding on sparks to her fingers. Her toes. Her core. She groaned into the kiss. It was like in the bar, but more intense. More vivid. She dropped her hands to Chloe’s hips, glided her palms up her stomach, and brushed the bottom of her breasts.
Liz was vaguely aware of Jordan moving from the bed, but she didn’t see to where because most of her attention was on Chloe. The way she tangled her fingers in Liz’s hair. Her soft gasp when Liz undid the top button on the dress. Liz was tired of fretting over every move and wondering if this was a good idea. Both her partners seemed willing, and God, Liz wanted this.
She trailed her fingers down the front of the dress and followed with her mouth along the path of skin as each inch was exposed. When she reached Chloe’s waist, she pulled the fabric apart, exposing round, pert breasts. Hesitation flitted through Liz. Daydreaming about being with another woman was one thing. Suddenly the world around her felt too vivid. Too real.
From behind, an arm lay along the length of hers, and Jordan’s breath caressed her cheek. He guided her hand up Chloe’s ribs. “Start with what you like.” His low voice drilled into her senses, amplifying everything further—the brush of cool air on her skin; the hum of the lights; the smooth skin in front of her.
She cupped one breast, the flesh molding to her palm, and flicked her thumb over a pink nub. Bigger than her own. Brighter.
Chloe arched her back with a groan when Liz pinched and tugged. “Use your mouth.” Chloe’s plea was breathless.
Liz felt ghosts of the same sensations she administered, flicking her tongue out and sucking on the swollen nipple. Each new wriggle and sigh echoed like a phantom over her own skin.
Jordan yanked Liz’s shirt off, and then her bra. He trailed his lips down her spine, as she kissed along Chloe’s chest and finished unbuttoning the dress. Liz was wet, her lower lips digging into her jeans each time she moved. She pushed aside the crotch of Chloe’s panties. Her fingers slid along smooth skin. Waxed? Her head spun with discovery as she parted Chloe’s folds. Her fingers were coated instantly. Liz wanted tips on accomplishing that. Later.
Stroking Chloe’s slit was like playing with herself, but better. Every rasp over the skin drew out Liz’s tension, each sigh torn from Chloe’s chest. She dipped her head and drew her tongue along the same path as her fingers. Fantasizing about tasting another woman was nothing compared to the reality. The act, the flavor, the way Chloe squirmed beneath her, it was almost enough to push Liz over the edge.
She eased two fingers inside Chloe, hooked them, and sucked her clit. Liz’s head grew light, as if it might float away. She matched the pace of her attentions to Chloe’s cries.
Liz gasped when Jordan cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. Chloe squirmed under her, grinding against her face as she came. Thrusting her hips until she shuddered away from Liz’s touch.
Chloe pulled her up and kissed her hard, driving her tongue into Liz’s mouth. Nipping. Teasing. Demanding. Licking herself from Liz’s lips.
Jordan undid Liz’s jeans and tugged those and her panties down her hips. Liz kicked the clothes off the rest of the way, not breaking the kiss. She couldn’t decide which sensation to focus on. So many assaulted and tempted her from every direction.
He broke the kiss when he pulled her upright, digging his teeth into her shoulder. “Did that turn you on as much as it did her?” He flicked her earlobe with his tongue, voice a whisper. He guided his hand between her legs, the tip of his cock nudging her bare skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
Unable to find her voice, Liz nodded, responding late to his question.
“I want to bury myself inside you.” His words vibrated against her skin. “Feel you clench around me, while Chloe plays with you.”
Liz looked at Chloe, who stared back with bright eyes. Pink colored her cheeks. Chloe nodded.
“Okay,” Liz managed.
*
Jordan guided Liz onto her back, nudged her legs apart, and rolled on a condom. He was exercising the last of his control, to keep his mind from spiraling into blankness. Chloe looked gorgeous. Glowing. Freshly fucked. Seeing it happen was different from doing it himself, but just as tantalizing. He dragged the head of his cock along Liz’s gorgeous pussy, short curls of black hair teasing him even through latex. He nudged her opening, then drove inside, unable to hold back anymore. That first, sweet, tight penetration threatened to make him come.
He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back, and a hint of copper hit his tongue. “Chi…” He couldn’t finish the thought. Wasn’t able to wrap his head around words.
Chloe seemed to know. She suckled Liz’s breast, her ass in the air, waggling at him. He pounded hard. Matching his pace to the rocking of her hips. Falling into the rhythm.
Chloe moved her hand down Liz’s stomach, drawing another groan when she found Liz’s clit.
Liz clenched around his dick, grinding and milking him as she came. Her sweet mewls and strong grip drew out his own orgasm. He hammered inside her, spilling, sparks dancing behind his eyelids, until he was spent.
Frantic grinding slowed, and moans became pants for air and then tiny giggles. He collapsed to the bed and pulled Chloe close, between him and Liz. Her chest pressed into his side, heart hammering against him.
A second set of fingers brushed his chest. Liz pressed herself to Chloe’s back. Both women wore faint smiles.
“Fuck, the two of you are amazing.” He forced the words out through lungs still searching for breath.
“Crap.” Liz bolted upright. “Yes. Definitely. And I didn’t realize what time it was.” She wobbled and grabbed the edge of the mattress as she stood. Jordan couldn’t help his satisfaction at the sight. She grabbed her jeans. “I have to go. Meeting in half an hour. I had a fantastic time. I mean it. Thank you both.”
After she left, Chloe cuddled closer. “Thank you from me, too.”
“Sure. Because it was compl
etely selfless on my part.” He chuckled. That was better than any fantasy. What held them back for so long? Whatever it was that stopped them before, that had them fighting, he wasn’t letting hang-ups or lost words get in the way again.
* * * *
Jordan mentally ticked through a list of bullet points for their E3 demo. He paced outside the convention hall, waiting for the previous demo to let out so their people could get in and set up. Chloe joined him, halting his journey.
“Hey, handsome.” She rose on her toes and kissed him. Her white T-shirt and black jeans matched his. Part of the visuals for their time on stage. Things between them went smoother today than they had in a long time. No miscommunication or barely-suppressed snarls. He refused to linger on the fact they hadn’t made any future plans with Liz. Hooking up was a one-time thing.
The high from the shared moment this morning still coursed through him. He pulled Chloe closer. “Lighting and sound all squared away?”
“Ready and set.”
“Jordan Iverson?” A stern voice carried over the chatter of the crowds.
Jordan looked up, to see two police officers standing a few feet away. “That’s me.”
“We need you to come down to the station with us.”
Around them, a few people slowed and stared, murmurs running through the throngs of onlookers.
“Can I ask what for? The timing’s not so good right now,” Jordan said.
One officer thumbed the clasp on his holster. “I think you’d rather do this quietly, but we can cuff you here and escort you to the car forcefully if you prefer.”
“Shit. You’re not joking.” Not the smartest thing he’d said today. “What’s going on?”
“We’d like to talk to you about the assault on Stew Knapfer last night.”
“What?”
“I’ll call Legal and have them get us local representation,” Chloe said. “We’ll meet you down there.”
“Sure. Okay.” Any thoughts of the demo slammed into the back of Jordan’s head, as he processed this information. He was grateful they didn’t cuff him as they put him in the back of the patrol car. When they mirandized him, he swore his heart stopped for a beat. He wanted to protest. Point out he didn’t realize Stew had been assaulted, let alone having been party to it. He kept his mouth shut. One of the instructions Zach drilled into their heads after the fake marriage proposal at E3, was that if for some bizarre reason they ever got in trouble with law, they weren’t supposed to say anything without a lawyer present.
This was the first time he ever had to put it into action. Acid churned in his gut and surged up his throat. He swallowed it back.
“It’s a simple assault case.” The officer in the passenger seat glanced back at him. “We have witnesses and proof. Do you really want to jump through all the legal hoops for the inevitable?”
Jordan didn’t know how it was possible to have evidence for an incident that never happened. No, that wasn’t true; he could list a lot of ways. But it meant what they had wasn’t legit. He shook his head. “My lawyer will meet me at the station.”
The policeman shrugged. “We get paid either way.”
They processed Jordan into holding and sat him in a small room with a table, a couple of chairs bolted to the ground, and what he assumed was a one-way mirror. He couldn’t see a clock, but the shifting sun outside, moving down past the horizon and casting the room in a sickly orange glow, told him he was there several hours.
His irritation and anger simmered and grew, the longer he waited. Why the fuck wasn’t anyone talking to him? Chloe got him an attorney. Someone should be here already and consulting with him. He was tempted to slam his fist into the table, to get an outlet for his frustration.
Finally, keys rattled in the lock, and a uniformed officer opened the interrogation room door. “Mr. Iverson, you’re free to go. The charges have been dropped.”
He gave the man a tight-lipped smile, jaw aching from being clenched for so long, and stalked into the lobby.
Chloe was waiting next to a man in a suit that probably cost as much as Jordan’s high-end graphics laptop. She met Jordan halfway and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry it took so long. I wish I understood why. Dave took the demo. Said it was a hit.”
The news was more of a relief than Jordan expected. It was nice something went right.
“Mr. Iverson.” The suit approached, hand extended. “I’m Dean Twents. I represent the firm retained by Rinslet. Mr. Knapfer has dropped the charges against you. Not that he had anything beyond circumstantial evidence anyway. Well done, keeping your mouth shut.”
Jordan gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Not my preference.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I have some news for you, and you’re not going to like it.”
Jordan resisted the urge to ask if Dean was always a humorless fuck or if it was a mask he wore for the job. “What news?”
“We’re going straight to the airport from here.” Chloe’s voice was as tight as the lines around her eyes.
“Bullshit. I didn’t do anything.”
“And if you’re gone, you can keep up the trend,” Dean said. “I have a company car waiting.”
Jordan wasn’t listening to him. His attention was still on Chloe. “We have things to wrap up.” He was nitpicking. The show ended tonight, but he was being punished for nothing.
She frowned. “Zach made the call. He says I have to make sure you get on the plane.”
“Fuck.” Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. He wanted to whine that it wasn’t fair, but had a feeling it would get him nowhere. “Fine.” He didn’t trust himself to say more. This was such complete and utter crap. He had to leave the biggest event of the year with his tail tucked between his legs, because some asshole blogger had their panties in a bind. Over something Jordan didn’t even do. It was nice he wasn’t spending the night in a cell.
The mental assurance didn’t alleviate his irritation.
Chapter Seven
Liz took a seat near the front of the panel room, where Rinslet would present their demo in about fifteen minutes. It was nice she didn’t have plans for the afternoon, half because memories of Jordan and Chloe had kept her distracted all day. She reminded herself it was okay she hadn’t exchanged numbers with them. One-night stand meant exactly that. Besides, she knew where they worked.
Wow. That sounded a little stalkery, even in her head. She shook the thought aside. When she saw their names on the schedule under Presenters, she had to check them out. Not because she was following them, but because everyone here was speculating about what they’d do this year. Apparently the two weren’t exaggerating when they said part of their job was working the media. Everyone was whispering and guessing about Rinslet’s big reveal. Not only the what, but the how of it.
Which was the second reason she was grateful for a clear calendar. She’d waited in line for several hours, to make sure she got a seat in the auditorium.
The lights dimmed, and the low roar of muttering voices reached a crescendo, and then fell silent when the room went dark.
“Gals and guys. Geeks of all persuasions.” An announcer-style voice spilled through the speakers. “Are you ready for something spectacular?”
The room erupted in cheers. Rinslet knew how to work the crowd. This kind of hype and anticipation must be hard to live up to. Black lights flashed across the display, illuminating first the screen and then the person strolling toward the middle of the stage.
The flashing display made it difficult to identify who it was, but after this morning, Liz was pretty sure neither Chloe nor Jordan was that tall or broad-shouldered.
A new current of whispers spilled through the crowd, and she caught snatches mingled in with the music. She wasn’t the only one who noticed the last minute presenter swap-out.
“You expected our notorious troublemakers to present this afternoon.” The voice boomed over the speakers. “We’ve got your favorite community manager, Grave Dave – The Inquisitor, instead. An
d that’s just one epic surprise among many you’ll see over the next hour.”
Liz couldn’t ignore her disappointment. The presentation should be good anyway. She still wanted to see what the company was up to. Forty-five minutes later, she exited the room, blinking away the sparkles left by the light show. It was the prettiest part of the demo. She liked what she saw on screen, and the demo that went with it, but it didn’t feel like the grand press spectacle everyone said she was in for.
She probably didn’t understand enough about gaming to appreciate it. Or she was letting the letdown over not seeing the fun couple cloud her judgment.
“…arrested…”
“…right outside the stage door…”
“…positive. Jordan Iverson assaulted…”
The fractured conversations drew Liz’s conversation. She tried to follow one long enough to get more information. Were they okay?
Her phone vibrated, disrupting her attempts to eavesdrop. It was Mercy.
“Hey.” Liz found the quietest corner of the convention center she could, which meant the background noise was still there, but a dull roar.
“Hey, love.” Mercy sounded cheerful, but hesitation ran through the words. “You doing okay?”
Odd question. “Last time I checked. What have you heard that I haven’t?” Liz made sure to keep the teasing in her reply.
“Lots of stuff. The best film speed and aperture for shooting in low light with a tripod and high-motion subjects, for instance.”
“You’re funny. Seriously. What’s up?”
“Eh.” Mercy dragged the word out. “Ian told me what happened with your accounts. I’m worried about you.”
“Thanks.” The concern warmed Liz but embarrassed her at the same time. A downside to Mercy and Ian being together was that, for some reason, Liz was a favorite topic. It had been easier to face the clashing forms of sympathy when she got to tell each of them in her own way when something was going on. “You didn’t call for that.”
Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2) Page 6
