Game Breaker:The Loop

by BJ Harvey

  Her devilish grin will be the death of me. She walks past me and down a short hallway, opening a door on her left. Turning back toward me, she stops with her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll just be a second, then you can tell me where we’re going.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I reply, not missing the fact she’s swinging that eighth wonder of the world with more emphasis than she was earlier.

  Or maybe I’m paying closer attention now.

  This playful, relaxed, and openly happy Sarah in front of me is the woman I fell in love with all those years ago.

  I even fought with Cade over her. He spotted her before I did and was all ready to go over to her and introduce himself. Thankfully, I was ten steps ahead of him by the time he realized what I was doing and the rest—as they say—is history.

  Having walked over to the windows in the lounge, I’m checking out the view when her voice grabs my attention.

  “Uh… Cam?”

  “Yeah?” I step over to the edge of the hall. I’m met with a bashful Sarah, biting her lip as she meets my eyes.

  “Would you mind coming down here? This damn zipper is stuck, and as much as I’ve already tried, there’s no way to get out of this dress without undoing it even just a little bit.”

  Sarah, in her room, stripping off that damn dress that looks fantastic on her except for everything that tailored outfit signified? Not a fucking problem.

  I don’t know what I did in a past life to meet Sarah, but if I have to torture myself by helping her undress, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna do it regardless.

  My heart hammers the closer I get to her room. My cock, on the other hand, is wide awake and ready to play. “Slow and steady, Carsen. Remember the long game,” is on repeat in my head as I push the door open, finding her standing by a big bed, her room immaculate in both cleanliness and presentation.

  Her arm is bent behind her back, her fingers awkwardly fumbling for the zipper as the top of her dress parts to reveal silky smooth skin that I desperately want to run my palms over.

  She glances over her shoulder, looking a little sheepish. “I tried being a contortionist to fix it but I’m not as flexible as I used to be. If you can just get it loose, I can do the rest.”

  “Where’s the fun in that, Sez?” I say with a wicked grin as I close the distance between us and place one hand on her upper arm, not missing the quiet hitch of her breath as it escapes her mouth.

  I grip the tab of her wedged zipper and give it a short, hard tug.

  “Dammit. I jammed it up good, didn’t I?”

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed,” I say with a voice much deeper and rougher than it should be. Being this close to her is so much harder—and certain parts of me are fucking titanium right now—than it was on the train.

  “I’m gonna need two hands for this. It’s caught on the fabric of the dress on the inside,” I explain as I slide my fingers down against her skin. I bite back a groan when I graze her bra strap before finding the wedged zip. With a wiggle and a tug and a whole lot of frustrated mutterings, I free the dress from the teeth of the zipper, and ease it down, exposing the delectable skin of her back.

  “Cam…” she breathes, and I feel it right down in my dick. I drop my head to the skin behind her ear, taking her in.

  “All done,” I say quietly, her body trembling as a whimper escapes her lips.

  “I should really get changed now…”

  Fuck, I really wish she wouldn’t.

  “How about you let me take this dress off and really show you how much I’ve missed you?” I place a gentle, lingering kiss on her bare shoulder and bring my body flush against hers, my chest to her torso.

  Her head drops back as I touch my tongue to her skin, running swirling circles along her collarbone to the apex of her neck.

  “Are you thinking about what I said I’d do to you?” I whisper, sucking her earlobe between my lips.

  “Maybe…” she says, her voice warm and low. I run my hand up her side and sweep the strap of her dress off her shoulder, my mouth following its path.

  “I meant every word, Sez.”

  She shivers, but I know it’s not from the cold.

  Turning around, she lifts her chin and meets my hungry eyes. We stand there, our bodies pressed together, for what seems like an eternity.

  Our breaths intermingle as we take each other in, my arms wrapped around her back, my hands sliding against her bare skin in maddening tortuous circles, my desire to do more unravelling me.

  I’m ninety-nine percent sure that she’s not marrying for love, and everything is telling me she’s not, but part of me—a very small part at the back corner of my mind—is still wondering whether it’s right to sleep with an engaged woman.

  Looking into her eyes, the hunger in them matching my own, I decide then and there to ignore the remaining one percent of doubt. I’m following my gut because it hasn’t let me down yet, and I’m not about to start second-guessing it now.

  “Fuck it,” I mutter as I run a hand up her back and into her hair, gripping the strands tight just as I crush my mouth to hers, my tongue delving inside and tasting her again.

  The sound and feel of her whimper reverberates through me, and I lose all sense of self-control, my plan to take this slow and steady thrown out the window. My fingers flex against her scalp when hers tangle in my hair like she used to do all those years ago. It’s like time stands still as we kiss, and feel, and reacquaint ourselves, erasing the sixteen years we’ve been apart.

  I walk her backwards to the bed, stripping her dress off as I go, leaving her in her matching white lace bra and thong.

  She’s equally desperate, gripping the edge of my T-shirt and pulling it up. I break the kiss for barely a second to throw it on the floor before claiming her mouth again.

  Her hands drop to my belt, roughly pulling it off, then ripping my zipper down. I kick my shoes off just as her legs meet the mattress and she drops down onto it, pushing herself farther up the bed.

  I lean over her, running my lips over her cheeks, her jaw, and down to her neck before I straighten and bend down, removing my socks and kicking off my jeans. Now naked as the day I was born, I square my shoulders and take her in. The desperation I feel for her shines back at me as her lust-filled eyes drop to my cock before returning to meet my gaze, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

  “Like what you see?” I put a knee on the bed between her legs as she props herself up on her elbows and offers her mouth to me, something I willingly accept—and take—with renewed hunger.

  In no time at all, I’ve stripped off her bra and underwear before my mouth roams down her chest to her breasts. I then set out to explore every inch of her body that I can touch and taste. I kiss her stomach, I brush my lips against her hip, I caress my tongue over her clit before dipping lower and devouring her whole.

  “My turn,” she rasps. I know she’s had enough when she flips me onto my back with a quick flick of her hips. Then she attacks, crashing her lips to mine with renewed hunger. It’s as if a match has been struck, the spark between us setting us both alight. Her hands are all over me. Her naked body rubbing against mine is fucking fantastic in many ways, making me long to sink deep inside her.

  The moment her lips wrap around my cock, I swear I see stars. The heat of her mouth, her tongue, her fingers wrapped around the base—all of it succeeds in driving me wild.

  When I feel the tell-tale tingle deep inside, I know I need to take over.

  Gently easing her off me, I hook my hands under her arms and pull her up until her eyes are level with mine. “If I’m gonna finish, it’ll be inside you. Deep inside you.” My fingers on her ass bite into her skin as I grind my hips against hers, making my intentions more than clear.

  “Condoms, top drawer,” she murmurs as she nips and licks my neck.

  She moves to my side, and I reach over to her nightstand, trying not to think about why she even has any if she hasn’t had sex in six months. I blindly search for a foil pa
cket, all while trying not to finish this reunion before it’s even started as Sarah runs her hands down my back and ass before snaking her hand around to grab hold of my cock.

  “I can’t stop touching you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual, believe me,” I reply, moving onto my back, condom in hand. “While you’re there…” I wiggle my eyebrows and she bursts out laughing, grabbing it off me, and eliciting a low groan as she rolls it down my length.

  As soon as it’s done, I grab hold of her hips and turn her over so her back is on the bed and my hips are between her legs. Bracing my arms on either side of her, I dip my head and brush my lips against hers, our eyes locked together.

  “I’ve thought about this for sixteen years. I’ve ached to be inside you.” I tease her with a roll of my pelvis against hers, gliding my cock over her clit, making her moan.

  “Do it,” she says, her tone almost defiant—definitely strong—and full of need.

  Positioning myself, I drive my tongue into her mouth just as I slide my cock home.

  And that’s exactly what she is to me.

  The one thing I’ve been missing.

  Home.

  How can sixteen years apart and only two hours together result in out-of-this-world sex like that? With a look at the clock on my kitchen wall, I realize that it’s now getting close to 4:30 p.m. and I’ve got nothing to show for the day—mind-blowing sex notwithstanding.

  That’s not completely true. I flashed a teenage boy, I got my weekly quota of exercise in by running down seven flights of stairs, and I bumped into my high school sweetheart who broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. Add to that a long-forgotten marriage ceremony at City Hall that never happened and the naked man-god in my shower right now, and I’m at a loss for words as to how this day went from being about a fake marriage with my gay bestie to hot sex with the ex.

  I mean, how can sex be that good with only him? It’s only ever been that good with him and him alone. No one has ever compared to the experience that is sleeping with Cameron Carsen. I used to think it was the whole ‘first’ thing, since Cam was my first everything. But what we just shared—something that I never saw coming—proved otherwise.

  Where does that leave us now? He said he wants to talk. Deep down I knew way back then that he would need to break free from his parents, it’s just the way he went about it was definitely never how I imagined he’d do it.

  I’m lost in thought when he walks into the living area, his wet hair looking as if he’s run his hand through it and nothing more. Damn that man looks good in a pair of jeans.

  “You’re checking me out again, Sez.”

  I shift my weight to one leg and lean against the kitchen counter. “I don’t need to do that anymore. I’ve already sampled the goods.”

  He chuckles and rounds the corner, stopping way inside my personal bubble and wrapping his arms around my waist. Why does this feel normal, as if it’s something he does every day when I greet him after work?

  I freeze at the realization, and he feels it because without another second passing, he pulls his arms away and steps back. “Something tells me there’s still work to do.”

  My head almost turns full circle on my neck in disbelief. One romp between the sheets and he thinks all is forgotten? Men!

  “Sez, I—”

  I hold one finger up and he stops talking—wise move—and I focus on my breathing, just like I did to avert this morning’s freak-out over my pending fake marriage. “I’m not sure what that was, but it doesn’t mean the last sixteen years have been erased.”

  His head jerks, his eyes narrowing on mine. “Never said it was, Sarah, but it did mean something to me. You can try and tell me otherwise, but I won’t believe you, so it might be better if you don’t.”

  I open my mouth, the denial on the tip of my tongue but snap it shut again. My hackles are well and truly up now. “Right. Well it was nice to see you and catch up and all that…”

  His brows fly up. “And all that?”

  My inner bitch starts to wake from her afternoon nap, a reunion, being abandoned for my fake wedding, and two orgasms, taking it all out of me.

  “Hell, I know that look. Good to know you haven’t changed too much from the teenage you. Let’s take a deep breath, give ourselves a little reprieve and go for a drive. You up for that?” he asks, bracing a hand against the countertop beside me. He crowds me in until my back hits the pantry door, and he’s all I can see, feel and smell. Damn my soap smells good on him.

  “I said we’d talk and we’re going to, but I want to show you something first and then take you somewhere. Then we’ll talk.” He reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning down so we’re eye level. “Will you give me that?”

  Seconds tick by, his intense stare boring into me, setting my entire body alight and making my stomach flip. There’s sincerity in his gaze, and it’s impossible to ignore the absolute honesty I see there. This whole situation is absolutely and completely insane. It’s as if the universe is deciding to throw one down and put me through the wringer just for shits and giggles. Although my brain is saying one thing and my heart another, I have nothing to lose by giving him this chance. I mean, what’s one afternoon?

  I take a deep breath, shoring up my defenses and my heart as I square my shoulders and wet my lips before replying.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  If only I knew what I was agreeing to do.

  A short car ride later, and we’re pulling in front of a two-level house in Edgewater. Before I can say anything, he’s opening his car door and stepping out. I do the same and meet him on the sidewalk where he’s waiting for me, hand outstretched.

  He leads me up the front stairs, and soon I’m standing in the middle of his dining/living/kitchen area, taking in everything I see. It’s not the kind of house I envisaged a thirty-six-year-old bachelor like him to have.

  It’s a family home, filled with warmth and potential, a promise of what life could be like in the future if I met someone like him. A normal, middle class home in a family-oriented suburb. One I’d imagined us having when the time was right.

  It’s definitely a long way from the ten-room mansion with live-in staff like the one he grew up in.

  “This isn’t what I expected.”

  “I bet it isn’t,” he says with a grin.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, unsure how I should take his retort.

  “Because this isn’t what I had when you first knew me.”

  “Definitely not,” I reply, smirking back at him.

  “That wasn’t me. I may have been born into that life, but it’s not the man I wanted to be.” His eyes don’t leave mine as if he’s making sure I get it.

  I was already aware of the type of man he was when he left me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the fact he hadn’t changed from that. There have been many times today he’s surprised me with his new grown-up self.

  “I haven’t spoken to my parents in over two years.”

  “Oh… I didn’t know that,” I say, not overly surprised. None of the Carsen children seemed overly comfortable with their parents’ thirst for glory. Not that they didn’t want to be successful, but more that they wanted to do it on their own terms.

  “Not many do. But then again, my father hasn’t exactly been in the public eye for a while after everything… went down.” He smirks, and despite it not being polite to laugh at other’s misfortune, a giggle escapes my lips.

  Cameron’s father had to step down as the Chicago mayor after he was caught accepting sexual favors from a female City Hall employee in a video exposé. That was the first of many women to come out of the woodwork and the formerly very public Carsens were suddenly very absent from Chicago high society.

  “Do you mind waiting here? I’ve just got to grab something from upstairs, and then we can go.”

  “Go where?” I ask, desperately wanting to know what he has planned. Instead of answering, he pulls me in cl
ose and brushes his lips against my temple. “I’ll be right back.”

  Then he’s gone and I’m left standing in the middle of his living room, taking in everything that Cameron has built for his ‘grown-up’ life, a life I once thought I’d be an integral part of.

  Moments later, he’s bounding down the stairs, looking no different from when he went up there. Watching him, I meet his eyes and quirk a brow, waiting for him to say something. He stops as his chest brushes against mine and grins.

  “You ready to go?” he says, reaching to hold my hand again.

  Walking toward the front door, he stops when I dig my heels in and tug him back around to face me.

  “Where. Are. We. Going?” I ask.

  “Somewhere. I. Know. And. You. Have. To…” He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me quickly before dragging his teeth against my bottom lip and pulling on it. “Find…” He kisses me again, this time longer, deeper and a hell of a lot wetter. “Out.”

  This time he doesn’t let me delay us any further, near on dragging me out of his house and down to his car.

  Thirty minutes along the I-90 later, and we’re in Highland Park, my heart now racing because this is where we both grew up.

  Where we first met. Where we first kissed. Where we first did a hell of a lot of other stuff.

  And where he broke my heart.

  I’m man enough to admit that I’m a bit nervous about my plan to take Sarah back to the place where all of our history was made.

  It was the first and only place I thought of when I decided to use today to change her mind about her marriage. Not that I know anything about why she’s getting married, but I suspect it’s more for convenience than anything else.

  By the end of today though, I will find out, because how can I fight something when I don’t know the reason why she’s doing it?

  “Do your parents still live here?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence between us.