Playing Passion's Game

by Lesley Davis

  Juliet’s grin spread across her face at Trent’s obvious agitation. She wondered why Trent seemed so uncomfortable admitting her feelings. Juliet had felt the same attraction all night too. Trent groaned.

  “No, don’t give me that smile! It makes you look too damn pretty and only makes my resolve crumble more and more.”

  “What’s so wrong in you wanting to kiss me?” Juliet asked, moving closer until Trent was pinned at the table’s edge. “Do you have a long line of women that you string along with your charm and good looks?”

  “There’s no one, hasn’t been for a while. I like my life uncomplicated.”

  “Are you telling me you are too comfortable in your life not to risk one kiss with me to see what it would be like?” Trent groaned, and the sound vibrated through Juliet’s chest in an almost erotic symphony. She pressed in closer until their bodies touched.

  “I don’t need complications either, Trent. I haven’t lived here long. I’m still getting settled into my job and my surroundings. I enjoy being with you and I’d like to get to know you better. No strings attached. Plain and simple. Think you can manage that?”

  “Plain and simple,” Trent repeated, her hand reaching out to caress Juliet’s cheek. “Neither word I would use to describe you. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  Juliet pressed her own hand to Trent’s lean face. “I see it in your eyes. I hoped you’d find me so because I can’t help but be drawn to you too.”

  “You deserve better than me.”

  “I happen to like you just the way you are.”

  “That’s because you don’t know me well enough to turn away.”

  Standing on her tiptoes, Juliet kissed Trent gently on the lips. Trent shuddered against her. “Then I need to get to know you better and for you to know me. You’ll find I’m not so easily frightened off.”

  Trent’s hands rested on Juliet’s shoulders and gently kneaded, a restless movement almost like she was going to push Juliet away, but she drew her close instead, covering her lips with her own. Juliet gasped into Trent’s mouth, astonished by the warmth that poured from Trent as she held Juliet tightly to her hard body. Juliet’s breasts pressed against Trent’s chest, and she marveled at how strong Trent was. Juliet wrapped her arms about Trent’s back and clung to her, letting her control the kiss and set the pace, sensing that was what Trent was used to. Juliet was dazed when Trent finally drew back to grant them both air. She reached up to touch her lips to Trent’s just to reestablish a connection. She could almost feel Trent’s disquiet for all the arousal that surrounded them both.

  “Did you kiss me to save money on the plants we’re going to recommend for your yard?” Juliet asked and was heartened to see Trent’s brooding look lighten.

  “Did it work? Do I get free labor on top?” Trent’s voice was curiously shaky.

  “Depends what else you have in mind, Trent Williams.” She was captivated by the blush that rose up Trent’s cheeks. “Why, Ms. Williams, for such an expert kisser I do believe you are really quite shy.”

  Trent ducked her head and just held Juliet close. “You are a dangerous woman. You make me feel things that I haven’t felt for so very long.” Trent ran her hand through Juliet’s hair. “It’s unnerving.”

  Juliet snorted softly. “You play games where the main objective is to shoot zombies and mutant monsters, and I unnerve you?”

  “You’re real.”

  Juliet digested the softly spoken words and held Trent closer for a while, loving the feel of her body so close to her own. Trent’s body was all but vibrating.

  “You make it very hard for me to leave.”

  “You deserve more than a quick fuck.”

  Juliet flinched at Trent’s rough words and immediately Trent’s arms tightened around her in wordless apology.

  “And what do you need, Trent?” Juliet carefully drew back to look into Trent’s stormy eyes. She found confusion there warring with desire.

  “I don’t know. No one has ever asked me what I wanted before.”

  “I’m not like anyone else. Just thought I should warn you.” She placed one last kiss on Trent’s curved lips and slipped out of her arms reluctantly. “And on that note, before I have you test out my theory of how strong your kitchen table is, I’ll just let myself out. Good night, Trent.”

  The long groan Trent emitted followed Juliet as she shut the front door behind her.

  Chapter Eight

  I can’t believe I just did that! Trent ran her fingers over her lips and tried to capture Juliet’s taste again. “So much for taking it slow, Trent,” she grumbled and rubbed at her face harshly. She was astonished to find her hands were still shaking. What the hell is it about this woman that just sets me reeling? And I invited her in. I never invite anyone into my home.

  Moving almost through rote, Trent began to lock up her home for the night, hanging up her jacket and removing her shoes at the bottom of the stairs. She quickly went upstairs, her whole body vibrating with the arousal Juliet had left her with. Getting ready for bed, Trent tried to calm her yearnings by going through the motions of brushing her teeth and finding something to sleep in. She tugged on her sleep tee over a pair of shorts and padded into her bedroom, a much more furnished room than the floor below. A large bed took up most of the room. Shelves lined with DVDs and books framed the walls and small keepsakes were scattered in between. Trent turned off the light and lay down on her bed, but her body thrummed with an energy all its own. She turned on the television to distract her. Trent moaned as the last thing put in the DVD player sparked to life once again on the screen. Two women kissed and fondled each other and Trent grew even more uncomfortably damp. Her body was tight, her skin crying out for contact. Trent slipped a hand inside her shorts and tugged on her already hardened clitoris, rolling it between her fingers, exposing the head from its hood and running her wetness over it. With her free hand she ran her palm over her breasts and circled her tight nipples with her hard-skinned thumb. With the accompanying sounds from the TV urging her on, Trent drew herself ever closer to orgasm, assuaging the tension building inside her with her own touch. Knowing exactly how to press to get her clitoris harder, Trent let her fingers run over her flesh. With her eyes closed she pictured Juliet’s face above her, that long blond hair teasing her. Those slender fingers were suddenly the fingers squeezing her nipples and making them highly sensitive. Trent could almost feel Juliet’s body beside her, and it was her hands that pushed Trent over the edge, her voice that urged Trent on as the spasms rocked through her. Trent bit her lip to stop herself from calling out Juliet’s name as she came hard. Body shaking, her breath shuddering from her lungs, Trent finally lay wasted on her sheets, her mind barely registering the sounds of further excitement coming from the TV.

  “Shit, I am in so much trouble.” Trent carefully removed her hands from her sensitive flesh. “Just one kiss and she’s got me with my hand straight down my shorts.” She reached for the TV remote and savagely shut it off, unable to hear any more of the women’s groans of pleasure. She lay in the darkness and waited for her body to calm, all the time thinking about Juliet and how she had felt in her arms.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Trent groaned as a soft tongue teased the wetness between her legs and spread kisses over her clitoris. Each brush of lips made Trent buck and moan aloud.

  “Stop teasing me,” she growled and pressed a hand to the back of Corrine’s head.

  Bright green eyes looked up from Trent’s body. “You know you like it when I tease. It gets you wetter.” Her tongue flicked over Trent’s opening and Trent’s hips rose as the need to be filled consumed her.

  “Just fuck me, Corrine, you’re driving me crazy.” She grabbed more hair and pressed Corrine closer to her point of need.

  “Just because you’ve just had me screaming out your name with half your hand inside me doesn’t mean I can’t take it soft and slow with you.”

  Trent whined pitifully. “I’m t
oo far gone for soft and slow. Just stick your fingers in there and get me off.”

  “God, you’re such a guy.” Corrine laughed and sucked Trent’s clitoris firmly into her mouth.

  “Christ, yes, just like that.” Trent panted as the warning rush of orgasm tightened her stomach muscles. Her focus was centered on the feel of soft lips and tongue tipping her ever closer to the edge.

  “Trent, why are you home from school?”

  The sound of her father’s voice coming unannounced through her bedroom door caught Trent and Corrine off guard. He pushed open Trent’s bedroom door and found them, Trent spread out on the bed, naked from the waist down, school shirt up exposing her breasts, and Corrine with her face pressed firmly between Trent’s legs, her lips covered with wetness.

  Trent’s father’s face turned an ugly shade of purple as he screamed, “You dare bring this filth into my house?” He roughly grabbed Corrine by her hair and wrenched her off the bed. He flung her to the floor and directed his ire on Trent, who was trying to scramble for her clothes. The first blow knocked her back against the wall, the second cut open her scalp as his ornate wedding ring cut into her flesh. Trent dimly noticed Corrine snatching up her clothing and running out the room, but the sound of her feet on the stairs was quickly lost in the sound of Trent’s father shouting.

  “You bring shame to this household. It’s bad enough you have to look like a man without possessing the sinful qualities of one too.” The next blow cut Trent’s lip open, and she cowered under her father’s rage.

  “Dad, please—”

  “I am not your father; you are not my child. No child of mine would reduce herself so low to be disrespectful to God and give in to the temptation of the flesh. You disgust me, queer.”

  Trent flinched at the words that she heard so often in the house to describe those her father hated. She’d known it would be all too soon before he turned the words on her. She just hadn’t expected him to find out so graphically. She cursed herself for being so stupid as to skip school and bring her girlfriend home. She scrambled back into her clothing hastily, fastening buttons with shaking fingers. Her father towered over her, his face contorted in fury.

  “You will not leave this house again. When I get back tonight, we will get the elders in and they will counsel you from your deviant ways.” He took a step back and looked about her room. “I’ve been too lenient with you, indulged your wayward leanings.” He swept an arm along her desktop and knocked the game console and its games to the floor. Systematically, he smashed the whole lot under his feet, stomping the game cartridges and breaking them to pieces, crushing the console and ripping apart Trent’s books.

  “Dad, please no…” Trent’s words went unheeded as his anger fuelled the destruction he wrought.

  When he had finished, her room was destroyed and everything was ruined. “You need to think on your actions, Trent Williams, because tonight you will be judged. Be thankful I have to go back to work now because I would deal with you myself. I would beat the devil out of you. Wait until your mother and sisters find out what has been going on under our roof. They will be as disgusted as I am by your filthy perversion.” He took a step forward, but the sound of his pager going off distracted him. “Don’t you dare leave this house. I’ll deal with you later, child.”

  Trent stayed on the bed as her father swept out of the room slamming her door. The door lock slid into place, trapping her inside. She strained to hear his footsteps leave and peeked from the window as his car pulled out of the drive. She rushed to gather up clothing and anything else she could salvage. She grabbed a duffel bag from under the bed, opening drawers and shoving clothes into it. She wiped at the blood trickling down her face and cast a quick look at herself in the mirror. “Christ, I look terrible,” she gasped, assessing the damage. She began to cry at the wreckage piled on her floor. She slipped to her knees and tried to see if any of her games could be saved. She began to sob in earnest as she picked up the broken pieces of her most treasured possessions, the things that had kept her sane in a house ruled by her father and his righteous ways. Only one had remained intact and she shoved it into her bag protectively. She wiped at her forehead to try to stem the flow of blood there and lifted up the hood of her sweatshirt to hide her battered face. She shouldered her duffel bag and then opened the bedroom window. She eased out onto the window ledge and gauged her drop to the bushes below. Without a backward glance or care for her safety, she jumped from the window and landed in the privet hedge. Her shoulder wrenched at the impact, but she ignored the lancing pain and was quickly on her feet and running as far away as she could go.

  Trent shot bolt upright in bed, wrenched from sleep. She struggled to catch her breath while her heart pounded erratically in her chest. Wincing at the rawness in her throat, she came to the realization that she’d woken herself up screaming. Trent ran a shaking hand through her hair and squinted at the clock on her bedside. It read 3:55 a.m.

  “Shit.” She rubbed at her face, startled to find tears on her cheeks. “Goddamn it,” she said and untangled herself from the bed sheets. She padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Trent stepped under the running water, gasping at the cold spray before it turned lukewarm. The tepid temperature did nothing to banish her shivers, but Trent knew all too well that chill came from the nightmare and not the cool air of the summer night. She didn’t stay long under the water. She toweled off roughly and found clean clothes to wear. For a moment Trent considered going back to bed, but the dream was still too fresh in her mind for her to settle back down. She checked the clock one more time and weighed her options. Someone, somewhere in the world would be online and willing to play. She bypassed her bedroom and headed for a door farther down the hall. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, knowing that someone was out there ready to go into battle at her side, albeit in a game, was the only thing that kept Trent sane.

  I’ll sleep later. For now I just need to escape.

  Chapter Nine

  Due to her restless night, Trent ended up sleeping late and was only awakened by the sound of her doorbell chiming. Disoriented, she got out of bed to open her blinds and look out her bedroom window. Monica was walking up her path to join Juliet at the front door.

  “Fuck,” Trent said. She opened her window and leaned out. “Morning, ladies.”

  Juliet stepped back from the doorstep and shielded her eyes against the bright midday sun to look up at her. “Are we too early?” she called.

  “No, I’m running late,” Trent said. She dangled a set of keys she’d dug out from her pants pocket. “Use these to open the side gate. I’ll be down in a minute.” She tossed the keys down and Juliet caught them. Then she shut her window and rushed to wash up and prepare to meet her guests.

  Ten minutes later, tucking a T-shirt into a clean pair of jeans, Trent trotted down the stairs, slipped on her boots, and unlocked the back door.

  Juliet stood out of the way while Monica trampled through some of the overgrowth. Trent couldn’t help but admire Juliet in her worn jeans and short-sleeved pink shirt. She closed her eyes briefly at the way her body reacted to Juliet’s presence.

  “Did we wake you?” Juliet’s voice broke Trent’s quiet communion with herself. She had slipped her hands into her jeans back pockets, waiting for Trent to answer.

  “No, I was just being lazy debating whether to get up or not,” Trent smoothly lied and tried not to focus on the way Juliet’s stance pushed out her chest or the way her lips curved even when she wasn’t smiling. She took an involuntary step forward, determined to taste those lips again. She was rudely interrupted by Monica stomping toward her. Trent almost retreated at the fierce look Monica leveled at her.

  “How could you let your yard go like this?” she said, sweeping her arm out to encompass the whole backyard.

  “I wasn’t interested in it, so I just left it to its own devices,” Trent said, trying not to stare too much at Monica’s idea of suitable gardening clothes. Her usual long hair
was tied in two pigtails that hung low from a bright red skull-infested bandana. A red and black striped top was tucked into black cargo pants that housed a seemingly unlimited number of pockets.

  “Do you have enough storage space there, Pirate Pete?” Trent couldn’t stop herself.

  “Yes, I do, Butch Cassidy,” Monica drawled as she eyed Trent’s worn cowboy boots, “but obviously not enough for the copious sticks of dynamite I’m going to need to blow this yard away to replace it with a thing of beauty.” Monica stepped into Trent’s personal space. “You are a defiler of nature.”

  “Actually, I’d say I was a poster child for the Green Party, letting this piece of nature choose its own path to follow.” Juliet chuckled behind Monica, and Trent was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of whatever look Monica threw over her shoulder at her.

  Monica balled her fists on her hips. “Don’t you ‘Greenpeace’ me. You’ve been too damn busy banging away at mushrooms in your games to pay attention to the land outside your own back door.”

  Trent refused to blink under Monica’s stare. “So can you fix it?” she asked.

  “Fix it?” Monica’s voice rose and Trent caught Juliet cringing in reaction. “This is not as simple as a game, my dear.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “There is no walkthrough for this disaster.”

  Trent tried to school her features to look suitably contrite in the face of Monica’s ire. “Can’t you weave the magic that Juliet says you have when it comes to landscaping?”

  Monica looked over her shoulder at Juliet. “She said that?”

  Trent nodded. “That’s why I wanted you to come see this. I think you’re the only one who could resurrect this mess to something beautiful. And you’ll get Juliet to help, which will, in turn, help her toward making a decision on joining you in your work.”

  Monica narrowed her eyes and seemed to consider Trent’s words. “I’d document the whole dig. Everything would be photographed to prove that I transformed it from this dump to something worth looking at.”