Light Switch

by Lauren Gallagher

  “I put in five, Ramona put in ten,” Lou said.

  I gave my cards one more look, then three chips in. “Fifteen.”

  Steve’s eyes widened. He shook his head and laid his cards down. “Fold.”

  Ramona showed a full house, which beat Lou’s straight, but was no match for my four of a kind.

  After I’d collected my winnings, I picked up my empty glass and stood. “I need a refill. Anyone else?” A murmur of “no, I’m good” and “no, thanks” rippled through the room.

  “You want me to wait to deal until you come back?” Steve held up the deck he’d been shuffling.

  “Well, unless someone’s going to take her place,” Jim said. “Go on, Kristen, we’ll wait.”

  “I’ll be quick.” I slipped out of the living room and into the kitchen. Alone in the kitchen, I dug a can of Coke out of the fridge.

  “Hey, Kristen.” Ramona joined me. “How are things, hon?”

  I smiled as I pulled some ice cubes out of an ice tray. “Things are great. You?”

  “Oh, good, good.” She picked up one of the half-empty bottles of white wine. “You sure everything’s all right?”

  “Everything’s fine.” I forced the smile in spite of my grinding teeth. She was one of the neighborhood busybodies. When she wasn’t keeping an eye on everyone who came and went, she was trying to play matchmaker between single tenants. By now, she might’ve known Alec and I had split, and she’d probably seen Scott around.

  “Glad to hear it.” There was an unmistakable note of skepticism in her voice. “I haven’t seen Alec lately. Is he away on business again?”

  The smile became even harder to force. “Yeah, he’s been away a bit.” I didn’t feel the need to elaborate. Even when my private life was bland and boring, I’d always made a point of keeping it to myself. That was both a blessing and a curse when it came to Ramona. We’d chatted a bit after I’d first moved in, and apparently since I’d neglected to mention the man—well, Alec—in my life, she’d assumed I was single. This made for a rather awkward moment when she decided to introduce me to her attractive, single neighbor.

  On the bright side, though, that neighbor and I had hit it off and become close friends. Friends whose bedroom windows were directly across the alley from each other.

  After I’d poured my drink, I gestured with my glass. “Better get back in there now that I’ve got my refill.” I laughed. “The boys sound like they’re getting impatient.”

  She nodded, giving me a tight-lipped smile, but didn’t press. I made a quick escape and took my seat.

  After a few more games, players started cashing out and trickling out the door. By ten thirty, we were down to one table. A little before eleven, Steve and Lynette cashed out, said their goodbyes, and left.

  And with the click of the front door, Matt and I were alone.

  “Do you need help cleaning up?” I asked.

  He gestured dismissively. “No, no, don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure? I hate to leave after we’ve all trashed your house.”

  “It’s not trashed. Won’t take but a few minutes.” He looked at me and held my gaze for a second before clearing his throat and shifting his eyes away. “But, I mean, if you want, I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

  We went about collecting bowls containing the remnants of various munchies, empty glasses, and chip and pretzel bags.

  I clicked my tongue as I picked up a bottle with about an inch of beer left at the bottom. “Someone didn’t finish their drink.”

  Matt craned his neck. “Oh, no, that’s Steve’s. It’s not beer.”

  My eyes flicked back and forth between him and the bottle. Then enlightenment came and I wrinkled my nose. I held the bottle between two fingers, keeping it at arm’s length as I said, “Jesus, can he get through one evening without chewing that shit?”

  “He can chew it all he wants,” Matt said. “I just hate the constant spitting in a bottle.”

  “And the smell.” I set the bottle down. “Ugh. How does Lynette put up with that?”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “No idea.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing: there isn’t enough money in the world to make me kiss someone with tobacco in his mouth.”

  “I hear that. Fortunately, most women don’t chew. It was bad enough that Elaine smoked.”

  “She did?”

  He nodded. “Mostly when she was stressed. So for about the last six months we were together, she was pretty much chain-smoking.” He made a face. “By the time she left, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to kiss a mouth that didn’t taste like smoke.”

  “Been reacquainted with a smoke-free mouth since then?”

  “I have, but not nearly as much as I’d like.” He looked up, and as soon as we made eye contact, the devilish grin faded and his cheeks darkened. He muffled a cough. “Anyway, yeah, smoking is a deal-breaker for me now.”

  “Can’t blame you there.”

  We fell silent for a moment. I searched for something to say just to keep the conversation going, but he beat me to it.

  “So how did you make out tonight?” he asked.

  I shrugged as I rolled the top of a half-empty bag of Doritos. “Broke even, I think. Maybe five or ten ahead. You?”

  “About twenty in the hole.”

  “Sucks to be you,” I laughed.

  “Hey, watch it.” He shot me a playful glare before picking up a few bags and bowls and starting for the kitchen. “I seem to recall someone was almost seventy-five in the hole last time.”

  I followed him into the kitchen. “Do I need to remind you how badly I massacred you and Steve back in—”

  “No, you don’t, smartass. Especially not after—”

  “Oh, shut up,” I laughed, rolling my eyes.

  “Well, if you’re going to massacre anyone, could you maybe go after Lynette? Like, in the literal sense? I swear, that woman exists only to test my patience.”

  I laughed again. “Believe me, every time she spends half an eternity trying to figure out a bet, it’s all I can do not to kick her granny ass.”

  He chuckled. “Now that is something I’d like to watch.”

  “Yeah, I’ll just bet you would.”

  He turned around, and we both stopped. Less than an arm’s length apart, eyes locked on each other, we stopped.

  Did I just put that topic on the table? I swallowed hard. So did he.

  Then he cleared his throat and stepped away, occupying himself with putting chips in the pantry.

  With everything put away and the living and dining rooms restored to their more or less organized states, we hung out in the dining room. I leaned against the table, gripping the edge to keep from drumming my fingers nervously. Matt rested his folded forearms on the back of one of the chairs, standing just close enough to fuck with my blood pressure.

  Do you have any idea how much I want to touch you?

  “So,” he said, “you’ll be here next week, right? Or, well, at Lou and Ramona’s?”

  “With my only reason not to be here out of the picture? Absolutely.”

  He smiled. “Sweet. I’m glad you showed up tonight. It’s always more fun with you here.”

  “Even if you’re out twenty bucks?”

  He laughed softly. “I guess someone has to keep me from getting too cocky, right?”

  “Exactly. So it might as well be me.”

  “Yeah, might as well.”

  Our eyes met, and the look lingered again. Matt made a slow, subtle gesture of moistening his lips. Without thinking about it, I did the same. Still he held my gaze, and I managed to hold his in spite of the way my heart pounded and my stomach fluttered. I wanted him to reach for me, and when he shifted his weight slightly, he was a little closer to me. Every inch of my skin tingled, every nerve on high alert, wondering if he’d touch me and where.

  Then he dropped his gaze and shifted again, adding the most minute distance to the gap between us. We both rel
eased our breath, studying the floor as the silence held fast.

  Finally, he muffled a cough. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. At least then I had someone to commiserate with about Lynette.”

  I managed a laugh in spite of how tightly my stomach coiled itself. “Glad to help.”

  Our eyes met again.

  This time, I was the one to break eye contact. “Well, I guess I should get going.”

  “Yeah, I should let you go.”

  I pushed myself away from the table with my hip. We both hesitated, exchanging and dropping a few glances before he made an after you gesture. I picked up my purse and we walked in silence to the door.

  He opened it and let me through, then rested his forearm against it at about shoulder-level.

  “Well,” I said, “good night.”

  His smile was more than a little shy. He took a breath like he was about to say something, but released it. Another breath. Held it. Finally, he murmured, “Yeah, good night.”

  Another lingering look. I finally convinced myself to walk out his door, and when it clicked shut behind me, I muttered a few choice curses. Why was I such a damned coward when it came to talking to him? We were as close as any friends, and the chemistry was visible from space. One of us just needed to make a move already.

  On the way down the hall, I walked as slowly as I could, listening for any sound that might indicate he was coming after me. At the elevator, my hand hovered over the down button for several long seconds.

  No doors opened or closed behind me. No footsteps fell into stride with my pounding heart. Sighing, I pressed the button.

  The elevator took its sweet time as it always did. This building had the slowest elevators in the history of technology, but tonight, that bought me a few more moments of listening to the stillness behind me.

  The elevator arrived.

  Matt didn’t.

  I stepped in and leaned against the wall, staring down the vacant hall and hoping.

  When the doors closed with a hiss and a dull thud, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall panel. Frustration and relief vied for dominance, one tightening the knot in my gut while the other tried to untie it. It was probably just as well Matt hadn’t followed me, that we hadn’t given into temptation.

  I didn’t want to ruin the sexy façade of secrecy we kept over our odd relationship. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.

  But damn if I didn’t want Matt so bad I could taste him.

  Chapter 8

  Scott set his wine glass on the window sill and adjusted one of his freshly rolled sleeves. Leaning back in the chair beside my window, he looked up at me. I immediately dropped my gaze, focusing on the expanse of carpet between us.

  “Tell me your safe words,” he said sharply.

  “Red if I want to stop, yellow if I want to back off, Sir.”

  “Good.” He paused, regarding me silently for a long moment. I still didn’t look directly at him, nor did he invite me to do so. When he finally spoke, the three words were terse and non-negotiable: “Take everything off.”

  I swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” My hands were unsteady as I unbuttoned my blouse. I had no idea what he had planned for tonight. I’d long since given up trying to anticipate because he would stay one step ahead of me anyway. If I expected him to zig, he’d zag. That much I’d learned in the few times we’d played thus far.

  As I undressed, I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. I didn’t look at him, and I didn’t dare look out the window for fear Scott would close the shade. Or I’d meet Matt’s eyes and spook him enough that he’d back away. I wanted him to watch, so I didn’t acknowledge him.

  I dropped my blouse on the floor beside me. Then my bra. Skirt. Panties. I kicked my shoes out of the way.

  And I waited.

  For a long, unnerving moment, Scott didn’t move. Though I kept my eyes down, I knew he was looking at me. Looking right at me. Scrutinizing. Searching. Maybe for signs of resistance. Some indication that I hadn’t completely submitted to him. Or maybe he just did it to unsettle me. If that was the case, it was working.

  The chair creaked as he pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t speak as he came toward me. I held my breath.

  He walked around me, circled me, and I struggled to keep from trembling.

  Behind me, he stopped. I jumped when he put his hands on my shoulders. Again when he pulled me back against him. The buttons of his shirt were like cold, solid rivets, and the fabric of his clothes brushing over my naked skin served to remind me just how exposed I was compared to him. I sucked in a breath as his hands drifted down my arms.

  His lips touched my ear as he whispered, “You’re under my control now.” Grasping my hips gently, he pulled me closer to him, and I whimpered as the unmistakable ridge of his thick erection pressed against me. “Everything that happens tonight is under my control. Everything. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I breathed.

  He kissed the side of my neck and let his hands trail up my sides. One stopped to cup my breast and tease my nipple while the other continued upward. His fingers wrapped around the front of my throat, just above my collarbones.

  “Are you nervous, Kristen?”

  I swallowed hard. “No, Sir.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he whispered directly into my ear. His thumb ran up and down the side of my neck. “I can feel your heart beating faster and I can hear the way you’re breathing. Answer me truthfully. Are you nervous?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Am I scaring you?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good.” He kissed just below my ear. “I’m not in this for your fear, only your…?”

  “Submission, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” The hand on my breast moved down, his fingertips tracing a ticklish path over my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe as they continued over my hip and between my thighs. When his fingers found my clit, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Scott’s body was still against me because it was the only thing keeping my trembling knees from abandoning me to gravity.

  Electricity surged from my pussy every time his fingers moved. He circled a few times in one direction, then made a single, slow arc in the other, then back the first way, daring me to even try to get used to one rhythm before he’d change it again. Jesus, where did he learn to do that?

  He kissed my neck. “Whatever I say tonight, you’ll do.” His fingers continued teasing my clit as he spoke. “Whatever I do, you’ll accept. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice shook as badly as my knees.

  “And, just like last time,” he murmured, letting his lips touch my neck, “you’re not to come until I allow it.” Circle. Circle. Arc. Circle.

  I gulped. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” After a few more maddening arcs and circles, his fingers left my clit. His hand drifted away from my pussy, then lifted off my body altogether. The hand on my throat released me. When he stepped back, my knees nearly buckled, but I kept myself upright. Barely.

  Scott walked around me again, and when he stopped, he faced me.

  “Take my shirt off.”

  I quickly did as I was told: unbuttoned it, pushed it over his shoulders, tugged the rolled-up sleeves free before drawing them down his arms. When his shirt had fallen to the floor beside my clothes, I dropped my arms to my sides and waited for his next order.

  “There’s a condom in the back left pocket of my jeans. Get it out.”

  My heart pounded. Willing my hand to be steady, I reached around him and slid my hand into his back pocket. Body heat teased my fingers through denim. Had he been any other man, I’d have taken the opportunity to cop a feel on that gorgeous ass and given him a playful squeeze. Under these circumstances, I didn’t dare.

  My fingertips grazed the edge of the foil square, and this was real. We were really going to do this. He was going to fuck me tonight. A nervous shudder caught my breath in my throat.

  I brought my hand back, letting it h
over between us with my fingers wrapped loosely around the condom.

  Scott extended his hand, holding it palm up just inches from mine. “Give it to me.”

  Biting my lip, I chanced a look at his face. At his eyes. His steely expression echoed his simple command, and when I dropped my gaze again, his outstretched hand still awaited my obedience.

  Drawing a deep breath, I laid the condom in his hand.

  Oh yes, we were really doing this. Tonight.

  Scott turned away and set the condom on the nightstand, keeping it within reach. He faced me again, and we were back to this unsettling quiet. As always, I had no idea what he was going to do next. All I could do was wait, knowing nothing beyond the fact that whatever he did come up with, I would obey.

  And, as always, he did the last thing I expected: he gently cupped both sides of my face, kissed my forehead, and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes. The tenderness of his touch was an illusion, something to throw me off and make me drop my guard. It had to be.

  Then he kissed me. A long, tender kiss. A lover’s kiss. One minute, his lips formed stern demands, the next they softly moved with mine. The gentle sensuality of his kiss, of him, made my head spin. The warmth of his body against mine. A subtle hint of cologne. The heady sweetness of wine on his tongue. I desperately wanted to run my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, but I didn’t dare touch him unless he bid me to do so.

  He broke the kiss. Our eyes met, but I quickly dropped my gaze. We fell into silent stillness again, no sound in the room except our slow, soft breathing and the whisper of his fingers tangling in my hair.

  He was planning something. Or he’d already planned it. Something was about to happen, but only Scott knew what. I kept my gaze down, willing myself to stay standing and keep breathing. Every muscle in my body tensed, bracing for whatever his next move might be.

  Just relax, I told myself. I trusted him. He expected me to submit and surrender, and as long as I was wound up like this, I was doing neither.

  Taking and releasing a deep breath, I relaxed.

  The instant I let my guard down, he tightened his fist in my hair, twisted it, and forced me to my knees. I yelped, as much from surprise as pain, and a cool rush of adrenaline mixed with hot arousal in my blood. The abrasive carpet stung my knees and the tops of my feet, the vague burn reminding me of coarse stubble grazing my neck. His unforgiving grip smarted, and I bit back a moan at the thought of him holding my hair like that while he fucked me.