Playing House

by Willsin Rowe

  “Can I get you something, Mark? A glass of wine? A piece of my fabulous cake?” My naked body, draped lovingly over you? Damn. Just crossed the border to France, there.

  “No thanks. I’ll get myself a beer.”

  “You sit. I’ll get.”

  I scurried into the kitchen and pulled a bottle from the fridge. As I closed the door, a high, girly squeal shot from my throat when I realized Mark had once again moved like the night, and was standing right there with me.

  “Mark, you’re going to have to stop that. Seriously, my heart is not going to take it.”

  “Sorry. I honestly don’t mean to scare you.” He glanced across at the bench. “Hey, that cake turned out brilliantly.”

  “Hope I got it right.”

  “It sure looks like it. All it needs now is to come out of the tin.” He donned the oven mitts, upending the tin onto a wire tray. The cake dropped out in one piece, which even I could tell was a good thing. “Oh, that’s perfect. Great work, gorgeous.”

  Even without that last word his praise would have spiked me in the heart of my belly. With it, I was only one step away from being a puddle. And it wasn’t simply because he was such a beautiful man, but also because I’d actually done something right in the kitchen, other than cleaning. It felt like a huge leap forward for me.

  “Go and take a seat, Mark.” I raised his beer toward him. “I’ll open this and bring it through.”

  He looked as if he was about to protest out of habit, but then he relaxed his shoulders and shot me in the heart with that killer smile. I opened the bottle and followed him as he went through to the living room, flopping heavily into the sofa. “Thanks, Luce. It’s okay if I call you Luce, right?”

  “I… guess so.” His manners never ceased to surprise me. “Do you want a glass?”

  “No, thanks. Me man. No fuss.”

  “Okay. How about a curly straw and a little umbrella?”

  “Ooh, fabulous! I want mine in tangerine!”

  I almost dropped the bottle I was laughing so hard. “Quit it, you jerk. I’ll spill it on you.” Mmm, which would require me to clean it off him. With my tongue, perhaps.

  His fingers brushed mine as I handed the beer over, and we both fell silent for a moment. He studied the bottle as if it had some answers, then slowly allowed his gaze to climb up and meet mine.

  “Thanks, Luce.” The smile crept back onto his face as if it wasn’t sure it was welcome.

  “You already said that.”

  “I know. I already meant it. Both times.”

  I sat at the other end of the sofa, not trusting my hormones to keep quiet if I was too close to him. He flicked the TV on and found a game of football.

  “Is this okay? I need some man-time.”

  “Should I belch to help create the ambience?”

  “If you could, thanks. Just a soupçon should be entirely sufficient.”

  “Verily. One petite eructation coming up.”

  He nearly spit his beer out as he laughed. “Damn you, Luce.” He stared into my eyes for a moment before looking away. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it’s been living here. I know I’m not here all that often, but… you make life a whole lot nicer just by being here. And honestly…”

  “Yes?”

  He scratched at the label of the beer with his thumb nail. “I don’t get to have fun conversations like this all that often.”

  I filled my mouth with wine before I could fill it with my foot instead.

  He took another slug before he continued. “This feels like home. And I haven’t had that feeling in a long time.”

  I wanted to ask him everything. About his childhood, and his family. Find out exactly what he meant by that comment. But now wasn’t the time. I grabbed my book and opened it gently. I blew out a long, cooling breath and tucked my legs up beneath me, wincing at the way that made my already thick thighs look even thicker. I was fit and healthy. I just happened to also be a chubby chick. And apparently the only man in the world who wanted a piece of me was that weirdo, Patrick.

  Mark seemed to be engrossed in the game, though he could just as easily have been drifting off into a daydream. It was almost impossible to tell the difference when a man was watching sport. I glanced across, trying not to let him see me studying him.

  Every time he brought the bottle up to his mouth it awoke a tingle deep in my chest. All I could picture was how wonderful it would feel if it was my mouth he was kissing. My neck he had his lips against. It wouldn’t have to be anything serious, either. He could just place a gentle kiss on my cheek. In the crook of my elbow. Under the hood of my clit. You know… anywhere at all.

  The afternoon had taken a strange turn, at least inside my mind. Cameron was long gone, and for a while I’d been certain he’d taken most of my libido with him. The occasional fiddle before sleep seemed to have scratched any itches I might have had. But almost from the moment Mark had moved in—maybe even the first moment I’d seen him without his monster mask on—this man with buns of steel and a heart of gold had awoken the sleeping giant.

  He took another chug of beer and swallowed. No pretense, no subtlety. The hunter securing his share of the world. It was just like when he made coffee. No movement wasted, just feed the monster. Maybe all guys are like that and I’d never noticed it before. Granted, up until now I’d never watched a man quite so closely.

  He didn’t turn away from the screen as he spoke. “Is this a show or something, Luce?”

  “Huh?” I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I–I was just kind of day-dreaming. Maybe my eyes sort of looked like they were on you, but I wasn’t really, y’know, seeing you.”

  “It’s cool.” He turned and caressed me with his gaze. “If you don’t want me yanking your chain, then you shouldn’t leave it hanging out.”

  Almost everything he said had such dirty connotations. Or again, maybe it was just my own dirty thoughts coloring his words. My belly went into conniptions as my mind painted all kinds of wonderful, forbidden pictures. My cheeks, if anything, got even hotter at that moment. Being busted ogling him was one thing. Having him tease me so gently about it was almost mortifying.

  The warmth of his laughter seemed to fill every empty space in the room. It was lovely to hear, but the fact it was at my expense made the experience a little less wonderful. “You’re a classic, Luce. I’m so glad I moved in here. That you let me move in, I should say.”

  I was about to reply when his cell phone rang, with that retro, real telephone sound, which for some reason made me like him just a little bit more. It made me believe he valued more than just what was cool at this very second, and it seemed in marked contrast to the nature of his girlfriend. And I wondered if that was a conscious decision on his part.

  “Ah, what a surprise. It’s her ladyship.”

  It was stupid, and it made me feel dirty—and not in the nice way—to hear him speak even slightly ill of that woman. Truly, she didn’t seem actively bad. Just ignorant and self-absorbed.

  He picked up the phone as if it was electrified. If I wasn’t mistaken I heard a tiny sigh seep from him before he answered it. “Hi, Gabs. Are you… no, I’m just… yes, I… well, what about Javier? Did he? Oh. I suppose I could… okay… see you—” He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. “Soon.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and kept my eyes pointed at the TV, determined not to say anything. Staying neutral would be my safest bet.

  “Okay,” Mark muttered. “I guess that means I’ve been summoned.”

  Seeing him so humbled and aggravated hit me in a way I hadn’t expected. Neutrality be damned. “Mark, why do you let her—”

  “Please, Luce. Not right now, okay? I mean, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I left her stranded at the marina?”

  A smart one. I bit down on my retort and
twirled my hair around my fingers. “Well, what kind of friends would abandon her there?”

  His laughter was devoid of any shred of warmth. “Those idiots are not her friends. They’re just the coolest people she knows. By her definition of cool, anyway. She hangs around with them to get noticed, to get into the happening places and to score all the…”

  “All the what?”

  He shrugged as he picked up his car keys and made for the door. “She’s living the party lifestyle. You figure it out.”

  I definitely didn’t like the sound of that. But I was clearly the most beige woman on planet Earth, so what the hell did I know? “Are you coming home tonight?” I tried to sound like a concerned friend, but I was certain there was a needy timbre to my voice as well.

  “I’m not sure, actually. As usual, I couldn’t quite follow her conversation. If I had to guess, I’d say probably not.”

  A cold rock of doubt sank in my belly, landing heavily on the cold rock of guilt that was already there. Doubt that what I felt for Mark was in any way mutual. Guilt for wishing he’d ditch his girlfriend, even just once, and stay home with me. That was a battle I knew I couldn’t win, but it didn’t stop the yearning. I didn’t want to do anything with him. Well, I suppose parts of me would be more than happy to. But more than anything it was just the warmth of Mark’s company I missed whenever he was gone.

  “Okay, that’s cool.” I turned my attention back to the TV, which was inexplicably still on that silly football game. I grabbed the remote and flicked to another channel. “Well, don’t leave the girl waiting. Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean up.”

  “Clean up?”

  I pointed at his beer bottle, still resting on the coaster where he’d been sitting.

  “Oh, that.” He strode back, picked it up and slammed the rest of the liquid down his throat. Damn his appetites and the ease with which he fed them. It always made me wonder what he must be like in bed.

  Stop it!

  He glanced down at the empty bottle and then eyed me off as if considering a burp. His mouth curled into that little grin I so very much wanted to suck on, and then he glanced down at the table.

  “Oh, shit.” He dropped to his knees and untucked a corner of his shirt, which sent all kinds of naughty neurons firing in my brain. Unfortunately, they were left hanging as he used the shirt corner to wipe a few stray droplets of condensation from the surface of the coffee table.

  “Right. That’s that sorted.”

  I coughed lightly.

  Mark leaned forward, his body in a pose that was reminiscent of threat. It was only that cheeky-boy smile that let me know I was in no danger. “What now, Luce?”

  I nodded at the coaster, which his vigorous rubbing had left at a funny angle. He speared me with those hot chocolate eyes and spun the coaster until it sat square with the corner of the coffee table. “Better?”

  “Slightly. It’ll do for now. I’ll fix it while you’re out.”

  He crawled over to me on his knees, and poked at my arm. “It’s funny how we all call you Luce. Considering how damn uptight you are.”

  From anyone else, even Toni, I probably would have taken that as an insult. But the expression on his face, and the gentleness in the way he said it, let me know he was just ribbing me.

  With a quick flash of his smile again, he stood and walked to the front door. I knew he was on the clock with that woman, and delaying him would only get him in trouble. But damn her, I at least treated him nicely. Besides which, he seemed to be in no real hurry.

  “Hey, Mark?”

  He stopped with the door half open and looked back. “Hmm?”

  “If you don’t want me yanking your chain, then you shouldn’t leave it hanging out.”

  Mark’s eyes drooped half closed and his smile grew in just one corner of his mouth. He looked even sexier than usual and I couldn’t quite get a handle on why. Then I thought back over what I’d just said, and the other, dirtier connotations that could easily be taken from it.

  “Sorry, Luce. I didn’t realize my… chain… was showing. Perhaps when I pulled out my shirt.”

  “Don’t—” I swallowed heavily before continuing. “Don’t you have to… um, go?”

  He sighed as he checked his watch. “Yeah...I guess.” His look turned serious as he glanced at me. “That was fun, Luce. I like the way you play.”

  I watched him walk out, and dug my fingernails into the skin of my thigh. He wasn’t mine to adore, but he was just so… yummy. I couldn’t help it. His last comment had me a little confused. Had we been playing? If so, what game was it?

  When the front door closed I collapsed in a jellied heap on the sofa and turned off the TV. The only thing worth watching had just walked out to pick up his incredible-looking girlfriend and take her home for a night of hot, mindless sex. There wasn’t a movie—or even a book—in the world that could hold a candle to the fantasies running through my head. Bed was my only option.

  And probably one of my rapidly-increasing sessions of self-love to take the edge off this gnawing want.

  11

  My dream was vague, at best. A room with cushions, which all turned into some breed of cute but unrecognizable animals. One of them jumped up and down, making a persistent and annoying thudding sound. Much duller and deeper than I would have expected from a little soft cushion-creature, which was weird.

  Gradually I surfaced from the liquid mass of sleep to find the sounds were real, and were coming from right outside my room. Shock seized my chest as I realized it was someone pounding on my bedroom door. Then I remembered this was yet another night Mark was away plowing the well-worn fields of Gabrielle’s body.

  The pounding took on a playful rhythm, as if the murderer was toying with me. I pulled my blankets up in a bunch in front of me as if they could stop knives and bullets, and looked around for something I could use as a weapon.

  “Luce? You in there?”

  Oh, for the love of… “Mark?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t sound particularly alert, so it was a pretty safe bet that no matter what other activities he’d been up to, alcohol had played a strategic role.

  “What do you want? I was asleep.”

  “Oh… sorry. What time is it?”

  “One-sixteen. Have you just gotten in?”

  For some reason he chuckled, “Nope. I haven’t gotten in anything.”

  “Well, you probably should go get in something.”

  “Yeah, I wish. Open up.”

  “I was thinking maybe your bed would be better.”

  “Yeah, if you prefer. That could work.”

  I rolled out of bed and made sure my nightie was covering everything it should, before scuttling across to my door, clicking the lock off and opening it. “What are you talking about?”

  It took him a moment before he managed to focus his wandering eyes on me. “Shit. You were in bed.”

  “Yes. That’s where I usually sleep.”

  “Sorry, Luce. I guess I’m not thinking straight.”

  “Well, I’m awake now. What’s the problem?”

  He donned a jolly expression as he went to lean on my doorframe. In his boozy state he completely missed, falling to the floor in the hallway. “Urph. Fuck.”

  Making certain to keep my legs clamped together, I knelt to check he was okay. “Mark, what on Earth are you doing?”

  His breath held the unmistakable tang of bourbon. Mixed in with the heady masculine scent of his body, it took me straight back the night we met. The first time we met, at his work Halloween party. The aroma and the memory conspired to give my belly a little bit of jolt. And to see him lying there on his back, his shirt partly open and his handsome face still smiling despite the impact… it set my mind on that short, winding path that always ended up in the gutter.

  “Has something bad happened,
Mark?”

  He shook his head. “No, not bad. Just something inevima...intevimable.”

  “What?”

  “Somethin’ happened that… that was always gonna happen.”

  “Ah. Inevitable, you mean?”

  “Thought I said that.”

  “More or less.” I put my hand to his forehead. I had no idea why, but I’d seen people do it in movies, and commercials. Usually they were checking temperature. This felt more like I was searching for cracks. “I thought you were staying with Gabrielle tonight?”

  “That was the plan, as it was barked to me. But the plan changed.” He grinned the way a chimpanzee might, as he jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I changed it.”

  “Well, congratulations. Can you stand up?”

  “Can. Don’t want to.”

  I grasped his big hand between both of mine and stood, pulling at him like there was any way I could lift him. The struggle to keep my thighs together as well as lift the solid weight of him was almost too much to manage. “Come on, you big galoot. Help me out here.”

  With a huge effort I managed to drag his torso up from the floor. His lack of balance kicked in again, and his head came to rest against the meat of my thigh. And the only thought that flashed in my skull was that my girl parts were only inches from his face. Nothing but the thin cotton of my short nightgown separated his mouth from my pussy.

  His gorgeous eyes roamed up and down my body, and he let a long sigh trail from his mouth. The heat of his breath tickled my inner thighs, sending my mind and body into overdrive. There was only one reason I’d ever felt breath on that particular skin before. And god, it had been centuries since I’d felt it.

  “Luce, Luce, Luce. My god, you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “Steady on, big boy. Clearly you’ve had a few too many.”

  “Oh, I definitely have. But only ’cause I didn’t meet you earlier.”

  “What?”

  “Huh?”

  “Mark, I meant drinks.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against my lower thigh. “I didn’t.”