Games We Play

by Cynthia Dane

  She didn’t make it all the way through. As soon as her body twitched again, Leah finally threw her head back and thrust herself upon Sloan’s fingers. It was pointless to hold the bust of her dress against her chest, but she did it anyway, because some tiny part of her wanted to maintain a silly sense of dignity while she got fingered on a woman’s couch.

  Leah barely had a free moment to catch her breath when Sloan pulled away from her. The blouse landed on the coffee table. Sloan kicked off her trousers and drew a trail from the corner of Leah’s open, gasping mouth and to her sweaty brow. “We’ve barely started, darling,” Sloan said. “I thought you said you wanted to be mine. How can you be mine if you’re not claiming what I have to give you?”

  Sloan stood behind her lover and bent down, their noses barely touching. Leah didn’t have the energy to playfully fight the removal of her bra. Yet Sloan didn’t take off the dress. The ends of the sleeves may still hang around Leah’s forearms, and her breasts were as free as they were in the shower, but that dress still hung off her body as if she were forbidden to take it off.

  “Get up. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Every time Leah thought she had reached her limit, Sloan only served to renew her. Who is egging who on here? Leah was too enslaved to the moment to give a fucking shit.

  She got up, wobbling on her feet although her shoes were as flat as her soles. Sloan pulled her into an embrace that both steadied her and sent her reeling into a new world of never-ending games to be played.

  A spank hit her bare ass when they were mid-kiss. Leah gasped into Sloan’s mouth and nearly bit her lip. “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Because you wanted it.”

  How had she known? Even something like that was sometimes a reward for good behavior.

  “Bend over.”

  Of all the times for Leah to never once break eye contact, it had to be when she turned around and flung herself over the side of her girlfriend’s couch.

  Somehow, she knew this was the fate of this dress. Something as nice, pretty, and expensive as this was destined to be on the receiving end of one of the most definitive sex positions to ever befall humanity. Leah knew what would happen before Sloan thrust into her. If she had been wrong, she would have been heartbroken.

  “Is this what you wanted?” That phrase echoed both in the room and in Leah’s mind. Sloan asked her innumerable times. Leah’s subconscious demanded it be answered. Yes, yes, yes… Why couldn’t she get the word out? Was she really so enthralled that she couldn’t make her voice work? So inside of her own head that verbal communication no longer existed? Yes! Why couldn’t she say it? What was lodged between her brain and her lips to keep the word locked inside of her?

  This was what she wanted. She knew it. Sloan knew it. At some point, they no longer had to announce it to the world.

  Leah’s fingers slipped between the seat cushions. Her poor dress, wrinkled and dirty, was a broken buffer between her sensitive nipples and the soft material she touched. Except it didn’t matter how kind the couch was. Because Sloan was anything but kind as she fucked her girlfriend like the animals they were.

  Pull my hair. Call me dirty names. Tell me, in graphic detail, what you’re doing to my body and how good it makes you feel. This was the stuff of Leah’s fantasies, and it wasn’t the darkest ones. Could I tell her one day about the really dirty stuff I want to do? What did Sloan want? What would make her come so hard and make her love Leah until the end of time?

  God knew this was doing the trick for Leah.

  “Fuck!” The ensuing whine had Leah’s knuckles turning white against the couch. Her lover was in so deep that it was no wonder Sloan could bend down and hiss in her girlfriend’s ear.

  “You want more, don’t you?” How could she sound so clearheaded when Leah was already hungover on orgasms? “You’re the type of woman who always wants more. You’ll go on all night, won’t you?” She kissed a heavy trail of kisses down Leah’s spine before slamming into her again.

  What were Leah’s limits, anyway? The more time she spent with Sloan, the longer those limits took to reach. At this rate, we’ll spend the rest of our lives doing it. That wasn’t a bad way to spend one’s life.

  Like it wasn’t a terrible life if she insisted on giving Sloan some loving as well. At least before they both passed out in exhaustion.

  Before Leah could reach exhaustion, though, she had to achieve peak hypnosis. When the lovemaking was so good that she could completely give herself over to the whim of the universe, when she trusted her lover so much that she could nearly black out and let her run the whole show… that was it. This was it. The surge of ecstasy Leah had always wanted in her life.

  She was back on her knees. She was against the wall. She was halfway across the room, her dress falling off her body and her feet tripping over the hem as she stumbled into the bedroom and fell like dead weight. She was beneath her girlfriend’s naked body. She was on top of it. She was enveloped in Sloan’s arms and rolling halfway off the bed. She was madness, ecstasy, desire, and the pinnacle of her own existence.

  She was in love.

  She was stupid enough to admit it.

  “I love you,” she gasped into the crook of Sloan’s neck. Their entwined legs ensured that every movement brought one or both a new wave of skin-on-skin pleasure. How they achieved such closeness was lost on Leah. She didn’t care. She only wanted more.

  Sloan faltered for the first time since they arrived home. “Do you?” she asked. “Are you sure? You can’t take that back.”

  Leah kissed her again, hungry for the words that confirmed they were both in love.

  They never came. Leah didn’t need the words, anyway. All she needed was that frenzied caress when her girlfriend rode the last crashing wave of the night and collapsed. Words weren’t everything.

  Chapter 24

  Sloan enjoyed her first cigarette in much too long. Maybe I’ll finally be able to kick these things now that I’m having the best sex of my life. She gazed out at the sunny Thursday morning spreading across downtown Chicago. The only thing to draw her attention away from it was her girlfriend emerging from the bedroom, freshly washed and dressed for their day out together.

  It hadn’t been easy to arrange Thursday off, but Ayla was an angel in disguise when it came to finagling her boss’s schedule. Sloan could have asked for the whole week off, and Ayla would have found some way to make it happen. I need to pay her more. Shit. Sloan really was having great sex if she thought that!

  “I knew that outfit would look amazing on you.” Sloan followed that up with more congratulations, both for herself and her well-dressed girlfriend. Leah was radiant in an earth-brown pencil skirt and black cashmere turtleneck. A ring of black pearls – a gift from Sloan’s collection – encircled her throat, and the diamond bracelet she received at dinner dangled from her wrist. Leah’s hair wasn’t as curly as it had been after her trip to the salon, but the dulled look made her look perfectly chic for a day out on the town. All she needed was a decent winter coat, and she would be good to go. “I spend so much time thinking about your body and what would look good on it.”

  Leah sidled up to her girlfriend. She must have received a small bottle of the cherry blossom perfume, for it was as strong as the night before. Neither bed nor shower could kill that floral scent. “You look pretty good in it.”

  “Do you know why I wanted you wearing a tight skirt today?” Sloan said, ignoring that flirtation. “Because after a night like last night, you need something to help you keep those poor legs together.”

  Leah looked like she wanted to gently bop her girlfriend on the head. Instead, she tucked some of the long, silky black strands of Sloan’s wig behind her ear. Jesus. That’s some tenderness. Sloan had lowered some of her guards, but not all of them.

  After all, Leah had declared her love. In the heat of ongoing lovemaking, but it must have come from a real place for her to think it. I didn’t say a single thing. Sloan had
continued to do what she did best – taking out her frustrations and shortcomings on someone else’s pussy.

  “I’m ready for some breakfast,” she said. “How about you? There’s a great brunch spot not too far from here. Sean will meet us there so we can eat in peace.”

  Her phone buzzed with messages from her PR person. Ayla was probably blowing her up, too. Yes, yes, I saw the news. Sloan and her new “mysterious girlfriend” had made front page of the tabloids, sharing a spot with some old man cheating on his wife with a younger model. Sloan had never seen so many high-resolution photos of her making out with another woman before, but there was a first time for everything.

  Leah didn’t know about it yet. Sloan planned to reveal what had happened over brunch, because such discussions were always better when one had food in their stomach.

  “I am pretty hungry, yes.” Leah picked her purse off the floor and looked through its contents. “Burned a lot of energy last night.”

  “You and me both. Let’s head out and figure out what we want to do with the rest of our day.”

  Her phone was still ringing. Good thing it’s on silent. Didn’t stop it from buzzing in her pocket, though. Into her bag it went, where it could bother her pack of cigarettes and wallet. Sloan was more focused on wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s midsection and directing her to the front door.

  She recognized Sean’s ringtone blasting from the depths of her purse. Before she could instinctively reach for it, however, she discovered the security breach.

  Aaron Giles. Standing in her foyer, pissed as all shit.

  Leah shrieked in fright and hid behind her girlfriend. Sloan advanced on him. “The fuck are you doing in here?” Bad enough he sent his mistress to see Sloan the last time she had a guest over, now he was here to fuck with her? The man had no shame! “I told you I would be here until Saturday!”

  “Yes,” he grunted. His clothes were fresh and clean, but he had yet to shave. Had he hit the shower that morning? “That’s how I knew where to find you, Maggie.” He cocked an eyebrow at Leah’s presence. “Have a pleasant evening? No, wait. Don’t tell me. Because you two are plastered across the media and Mr. Wright saw you cavorting with a woman!”

  “Ugh. Please.” Sloan brushed lint off her jacket. “I did my duty yesterday. I was late to my date because you insisted we spend sooo much time socializing with Harold.” It had been excruciating, knowing that Leah was in town. “So what if he knows I’m a big, dirty lesbian?”

  She knew that look on Aaron’s face. Beyond. Pissed. Sure, he looked plenty calm on the outside, but that grinding jaw was the first tell-tale sign that Sloan needed to put herself between him and Leah. Now.

  “He called me this morning and said he’s pulling out, you fucking cunt!” Aaron slammed his fist against the wall, knocking a small painting off its hook and sending Leah behind the couch. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Because I swear to fucking God, Mags, you’re trying to destroy everything we’ve built over the past fifteen years!”

  Sloan put her hands on her hips. “We don’t need his sleazy money. We’re plenty fine without…”

  “Thirty million dollars,” Aaron growled. “He’s pulling out the thirty million dollars we’ve already spent in Portland. Do you know what that fucking means?”

  “We can get that money from others. We have investments coming in at the end of…”

  “I don’t give a shit about the investments, Maggie!” When Aaron was riled up enough, his voice had the power to carry across town. There were men boarding planes at O’Hare who suddenly couldn’t find their balls anymore. “I give a shit about you acting like a fucking fool when…” Something caught his attention.

  That something was Leah, which Sloan unfortunately discovered when her girlfriend attempted to sneak into the bedroom. She had turned right beneath the chandelier, and the light reflected off the diamonds encircling her wrist.

  Aaron wasn’t an idiot.

  “Is that… is that your…” Too bad he had already hurt his hand on the wall. Whatever would he do to show his manly aggression now? “That’s it, Maggie. That’s it. I’ve put up with your bullshit for too long. It’s one thing for you to ruin the best business relationship we’ve ever accomplished since we… God damnit, it’s quite another for you to give your whore something as precious as your wedding ring!”

  Leah stopped in her tracks. At first, Sloan thought she had handled Aaron’s outburst well. Then she tasted the bile in her throat; felt the tingle in her toes.

  Heard the words she dreaded most.

  “Your… what?”

  Aaron laughed at Leah’s bemused expression. “Shit! She doesn’t know, does she?”

  “Know what, Sloan?”

  “Go on, Sloan.” God, she hated the way Aaron said her last name like that. He was the only one on Earth who made it sound so sleazy. “Introduce me to the woman ruining everything we’ve ever built together. Tell her what a fucking homewrecker she is.”

  Sloan inhaled a deep breath. Not now. Not like this. If she hadn’t told Leah yet, it was because she wasn’t ready. It wasn’t the right time. The world may continue to spin regardless of what Leah knew, but Sloan’s world would collapse if this wasn’t done the right way.

  Then again… what did it matter?

  “Leah?” Sloan said with a forced trill to her voice. “Allow me to formally introduce you to Aaron Giles, my business partner, and the other half of Giles & Sloan.” She swallowed. Why was her throat so dry? Did it not like the idea of the Band-Aid being ripped off?

  Now. Or never.

  “He’s also my husband.” She couldn’t have said that with more spit if she tried. “Also known as the biggest thorn in my ass.”

  The apartment was silent. Sloan squared her shoulders. Aaron snorted, as if that hadn’t been grandiose enough for him.

  Leah looked between them before walking into the bedroom. She locked the door behind her.

  “Congratulations, Maggie,” Aaron said. “You’ve ruined both of our lives. I’m sure you got what you wanted.”

  He showed himself out.

  Part 3: Games We Win

  Chapter 25

  No woman on Earth was a bigger fool than Leah Vaughn, who sat in a brightly lit café somewhere in Chicago and stared at the photo of Peter O’Toole on the wall.

  There were other old celebrities adorning the walls of the Chicago eatery, but none of them were placed right in front of Leah’s seat. She didn’t have the heart – or the energy – to turn her head and look at something else.

  Stupid. She sipped her latte, chilled and bitter. Stupid, stupid. She had told that woman that she loved her. If only she knew everything was a rouse in the end.

  Married. Sloan was married. To a man? Nooo, not any man! Her business partner! The only man powerful enough to sway her decisions and to interfere with her life.

  When was she going to tell me? Ever? Or was Leah destined to be the stupid, clueless girlfriend who was dumb enough to believe they might get married one day? Because that was going to happen sooner rather than later. Once Leah admitted she was falling in love with Margaret Sloan, it was only a matter of time before she entertained serious fantasies of wedding dresses and honeymoons in the Caribbean.

  Now, here she was, sitting in a busy coffee shop in an expensively stylish outfit. No matter how quickly she drank her latte, she would never get back those days off from work.

  She would never be on her way to see Sloan again.

  After that man showed up in the apartment, Leah had no choice but to save as much face as possible. That meant locking herself in the bedroom and ignoring Sloan when she came to check on her a few minutes later. A message landed on Leah’s phone before the front door opened and closed. “I have some things to take care of. We can talk later. I’m sorry.”

  Sorry. That was enough to hide the fact she was married? That she had been committing adultery this whole time?

  Leah wasn’t that old-fashioned, but she was
not in the mood to date a woman still married to someone else. I’m not a mistress. I’m not a fool. No. She was a fool, through and through. Of course, someone like Sloan had lied about her relationship attachments. Why couldn’t Leah see that coming? Was she so blinded by what she saw on the surface, that she couldn’t critically check what happened beneath that million-dollar façade?

  Leah had waited fifteen minutes before grabbing her wallet and leaving the apartment. She hadn’t gone far, mostly because she didn’t know where to go. Chicago was as foreign as Miami or Cleveland, two other cities Leah had never been to before.

  I shouldn’t be here. Why couldn’t she head to the airport and fly home now? Because she had insisted on spending more than a couple of days with her girlfriend. The earliest she could leave on Sloan’s dime was Friday evening, and ideally, she wouldn’t have left until Sunday. They were going to spend at least four days together.

  That wasn’t happening now.

  She checked her phone. Finally, after a day of waiting, she received a text from her sister.

  “You look great, sis. Hope you’re having fun in Chicago. Miss you.”

  Leah was tempted to text Melissa about what happened with Sloan, but didn’t. Why not? Why didn’t she blast her friends with the scandal that happened in the windy city?

  Because it was so, so embarrassing.

  They would chide her for getting into bed with Sloan so quickly. They’d ask her what the hell she was thinking. Was it the money? The thrill of being with someone so dominant in personality? Yes… yes… it was everything. Already, Leah was thinking of Sloan in the past tense. Why wouldn’t she? It was obvious what she had to do. It was over. She couldn’t be with a married woman, let alone one who had lied about it.