Wicked Game

by Michelle Betham

  Reaching for the tissues, I grab a handful and wipe myself dry, wash my hands and check my make-up. I run my fingers through my hair and I look at myself again. I don’t recognise the woman in front of me. The woman who’d once wanted to spend her life with only one man, because she loved him beyond anything she could ever imagine. But then he cheated on her, and the fairytale ended. The nightmare began. And everything changed. I changed. This is who I am now, I don’t know if I can ever be that other woman again. If Noah can ever be that man, that world I once thought was everything, it doesn’t even feel real now. It’s almost like it never existed.

  A tap on the door makes me jump and I swing around, grabbing onto the counter behind me.

  “Kari? Are you in there?”

  Joe.

  I flick the lock and he comes inside, but he doesn’t close the door. Closed doors aren’t a big thing around here, I’m beginning to get that.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I only have to look at him and I want him all over again. Will this ever go away?

  Yes.

  I just have to want it to.

  He moves closer, reaches out to touch my cheek, but I brush his hand away. And he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react to my rejection.

  “Whatever you want, Kari, you can have it. Anything you want …”

  He leaves that sentence hanging, and he walks away, I’m slightly confused.

  I want him.

  I don’t want him.

  Joe Millar is my guilty pleasure.

  My sordid secret.

  My worst mistake …

  *

  Anything she wants, she can have, I told her that, and I meant it. And right now, I think she wants something other than me, to distract her, from me. I can read her, I can tell what she’s thinking, I know her enough already to see what’s going on inside her messed-up head.

  She’s going to be confused for a while. Would it be easier, if I finally told her the truth? The real truth? I still think it’s too soon. It’s too risky. She still won’t believe me, she still doesn’t trust me, and I’m struggling to work out how I can change that without pushing her too far away, because when I tell her I’m falling in love with her, I mean that, too. But that in itself is pushing her away, and I need to pull her back, even though I think she’s looking for a way to distance herself from me. Because getting too close, it scares her. And it shouldn’t. It really shouldn’t.

  Whatever she wants, she can have.

  Whatever she needs to do, she can do it.

  In the end she’ll come to me.

  She won’t have any other choice …

  Twenty-Three

  It’s still quiet out by the lake. Eerily peaceful. The party’s still going strong inside, but I need some air. Some time. That’s why I came back down here, where the noise from the party is almost inaudible.

  “Want some company?”

  I spin around to see Inger standing a little way behind me, holding a bottle of champagne. “Yeah. Okay.”

  She smiles and heads down to join me lakeside. “Here. I don’t think we need glasses, do you?”

  I take the bottle from her and swallow down a mouthful, coughing slightly as some of it goes down the wrong way.

  “Hey, take it easy there,” Inger laughs, taking the bottle back and downing a mouthful herself before she places it down on the ground. “Feeling the need for some solitude?”

  I lean back against a tree, and I look at her. I smile, but I don’t say anything. She knows my answer.

  “Joe’s a complicated man, huh?” She moves a little closer to me, and I stay backed up against the tree.

  “I don’t want to talk about Joe.”

  I breathe in her perfume, a dark, almost musky scent; deep, and extraordinarily sexy.

  “Okay.”

  I look into her eyes, and I swallow hard. What’s happening to me?

  “We don’t have to talk at all, if you don’t want to,” she whispers, and I hold her gaze as she rests a hand on my hip. The second she does that, a surge of something I can’t explain shoots through me, and I feel my stomach contract, and I know it’s excitement I’m feeling. Nervous excitement. This means nothing; fucking Joe means nothing, it’s all nothing. Noah was everything … Noah was everything …

  Just thinking about Noah kick starts something inside of me. That anger. That pain. It pushes me forward, towards more shit than I know I can handle, but I’m going there anyway.

  “Have you ever been with a woman before?” Inger murmurs as she drops her gaze, her eyes on my chest as I breathe in and out in painful, rapid gasps.

  I shake my head, and I take hold of her hand as she tugs at the hem of my dress. I want it gone, I want to be naked with her, I want to see her naked, and I want Joe to join us … do I? Want Joe to join us?

  Not yet.

  Not just yet …

  There might be a chill in the air, but the heat of her body is enough to take the edge off, and I know that when it finally touches mine, the cold won’t matter. Nothing will matter. For a few glorious minutes.

  Our mouths are almost touching, my heart is going crazy, hammering so hard against my ribs I fear it might break them.

  “Take it off,” she whispers, tugging the top of my strapless dress, and I hesitate for only a second before I do as she says. I slide it down – over my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I slide it down and I step out of it, kicking it carefully to one side as I lean back against the tree, shivering slightly as the cool night air washes over my naked skin. I’m here, by a lake in the middle of nowhere, naked except for a pair of ridiculously high heels, with a beautiful woman watching me. And I look at her as she slips out of her own dress, I watch as she becomes naked, too. She really is quite beautiful, her curves are in all the right places, and for a second or two I feel a little self-conscious. I don’t feel as beautiful; as sexy. All I feel is a rush of apprehension, that lack of self-confidence I sometimes suffer from floods forward, something I’ve felt more and more since finding out about Noah’s betrayal.

  He slept with another woman … why?

  Because I wasn’t enough for him?

  Wasn’t as pretty?

  As clever?

  As confident …?

  I hate the self-pity he’s caused me to feel, I hate him, sometimes. And I let that hate; those feelings, swamp me. I use them to focus, and when Inger touches me; the second her fingers graze my skin, tracing the curve of my waist, that hate is replaced by a calm, almost detached feeling. She slides her hand around on to the small of my back, presses her body against mine and now I don’t care, that I may not feel as perfect as she is. I just want to feel this.

  When she kisses me, it’s different to any other kiss I’ve ever experienced. Different to Noah. Different to Joe. Her mouth is soft, the way she kisses me, gently forcing my lips apart with hers, it’s breathtakingly erotic, and I feel myself slipping under in a heartbeat.

  I want to touch her, too, but she’s taking me first, her fingers are already exploring, and I widen my stance to let her in, my knees almost giving way as she finds that spot; that place that draws a long, loud groan out of me.

  “There we go.” She smiles, and I laugh quietly, she’s making me feel so at ease. So comfortable. It’s like the most natural thing in the world, for me to be here, having sex with another woman. Another stranger.

  Joe isn’t a stranger.

  Not anymore …

  I reach back behind me, grasp hold of the tree, I don’t even care that the bark is cold and sharp against my naked skin. I need to steady myself as Inger continues to touch me, and as she slips her fingers inside me I close my eyes, and I think of Joe …

  She drops her head, takes a nipple in her mouth, and I moan quietly, I want to do the same to her. I want to touch her, where she’s touching me now, I want to feel her breasts against my palm. I want to taste her.

  I want Joe to watch.

  I want Joe to be a part of thi
s.

  I want Joe …

  She presses against me with the heel of her hand, and I cry out as she forces a crashing climax out of me, one that shakes me to my very core, I feel it from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, I don’t want it to end. But the second it does, I take hold of her hand and I swing her around, back her up against the tree. It’s my turn now, to make another fantasy real.

  To make another mistake …?

  I look at her, and she bites down on her lip, she smiles. She takes my hand and she places it there, right between her beautiful thighs, and as soon as I feel her, warm and wet against my skin, that fire inside of me starts up all over again.

  Pressing my palm against her breast I drop my gaze, I want to look at her. I feel her nipple harden, feel her growing wetter the more I touch her, but I pull my hand away. I drop to my haunches and I watch as she widens her legs a little more. She knows what’s coming, and she’s letting me in. I take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves still there in the pit of my stomach, and I lean in to her. I close my eyes and I taste her, sweet and warm, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Pulling her wider apart with my thumbs I dive in deeper, my tongue exploring every inch of her, her low groans making my thighs tingle, I’m going to come without her even touching me this time. It’s going to happen, and as I slip my tongue inside her, I have to hold on to her to steady myself as she climaxes with me, I feel her knees buckle, but it’s okay, I keep hold of her until she’s done. Only then do I pull away and stand back up. And when we kiss this time, it’s even more beautiful, our bodies moulded together as we hold each other.

  “How was your first time?” Inger whispers, and I push the hair back off her face and I smile.

  “Yeah … it was good.”

  “It was good?” She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and I laugh again. It’s ridiculous, how comfortable she’s making me feel.

  I lean back against the tree beside her, reaching down to retrieve the bottle of champagne. And as I straighten up I see him, standing on the decked area, watching. Did he see that? Did he see us? There’s a part of me hopes that he did. And my stomach dips and dives again, I can’t believe where I am. What I’m doing.

  Who I am, now …

  Inger’s gaze follows mine, and she touches my hip, sending a small shiver tearing up my spine. “Do you want him to join us?”

  I look at her, right into her eyes, and again I have to remember where I am. What’s going on here. “Yes. I do.”

  I glance back over at Joe, but he’s already on his way down to us, and I feel myself shiver again, but it’s not because I’m cold.

  He reaches us, leans in to me first, and he kisses me. A deep, dirty kiss that I feel with every fibre of my being. He kisses Inger, but his hand stays firmly on my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh so hard it hurts a little. And then Inger takes my hand, she pulls me around so I’m facing her again. She kisses me slowly, a kiss that instantly relaxes me, another dose of something calming.

  “Touch me,” she whispers, taking hold of my wrist, placing my hand back between her legs, and as I touch her again I feel Joe behind me. I feel his hands on my skin, feel him pull my hips back slightly; feel him enter me, and I cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

  Inger reaches out to touch me, too, and that combined with Joe inside me, I feel like I’m about to explode; crash and burn. My skin’s on fire, my head’s a fucked-up mess, but I’m living this shit. It’s happening, and I want it, I do, but what are the consequences going to be this time? Do there have to be any? This time? This is different. What’s happening here, this is because we all want it, nobody’s set this up, manipulated this situation to benefit just one person. Have they?

  I shake any doubt from my mind and focus on Inger kissing me. Joe fucking me. I’m touching a woman while a man I can’t say no to has his cock deep inside me, his fingers brushing over my skin as that killer rush sweeps through me with a terrifying speed, causing me to almost collapse in their arms as I come. I have never, ever felt anything like this, not even when Joe first touched me, and that – what I’d felt then, that had been something else. But this – this has surpassed that. And now he’s coming too, spilling out inside of me, I can feel him; I feel Inger, her body giving way to a barrage of gentle convulsions and quiet sighs, she’s done. We’re all done.

  Joe drops his head against the back of my neck, his fingers still gripping my hips as he tries to catch his breath. I try to catch mine, but it’s lodged in my throat, I can’t loosen it. Until he touches my neck. He knows he can set my breath free, he’s done it before, he’s doing it now, and I close my eyes and lean back against him. I feel Inger move away from me, but I don’t open my eyes, I stay where I am, leaning back against Joe, his arms holding me, his breath warming my skin. The peace is beautiful, even though I’m now aware of the faint sounds of the party back in the cabin, but I try to block it out, listen only to our breathing; our hearts beating. And when I finally open my eyes, Inger’s gone. It’s just the two of us now, just me and Joe, and I turn around to face him, suddenly conscious of the fact I’m naked, and he isn’t.

  He crouches down to pick up my discarded dress and he hands it to me. I take it from him, slipping it back on and raking my hands through my hair.

  “Sleep with me tonight,” he whispers, reaching out to gently cup my cheek. “Sleep with me.”

  I know what he’s asking. I know what he means. But when he puts it that way, the look in his eyes …

  “I can’t.”

  I really can’t.

  “Kari …”

  I start to walk away, but he doesn’t let me get too far, grabbing my wrist and swinging me back around.

  “I’m not letting you go, do you hear me? That – what just happened …”

  “Was good. It was really, really good.”

  He pulls me against him, rests his palm against my cheek and he kisses me, so deep I’m falling, he’s dragging me under …

  “Stop fighting it, Kari. Stop fighting.”

  I want to lash out, I want to hurt him for making me turn into this woman, I want to blame somebody other than me – I want to talk to Noah.

  He slides a hand onto the back of my neck, lowers his forehead so it touches mine, and for a second or two we just stay there, in silence.

  I want to talk to Noah …

  I’m the first to break the moment; the first to step away, and this time he lets me go. I walk back towards the house, but I don’t go inside, I find another quiet spot at the side of the cabin, sit down at a table on a small, paved patio area and I fish around in my bag for my phone. And then I remember, I don’t have it. These parties, they don’t allow phones, nothing that could threaten the guests’ privacy.

  I sit back, I close my eyes and take a long, deep breath as tears start to stream down my face, exhaustion swamps me from out of nowhere. I pull my knees to my chest and I stare out at the lake, and I let those tears fall. I cry until I can cry no more; until my eyes are dry and sore. Until I’m empty. Only then do I head back inside.

  Joe’s talking to a blond-haired man in the kitchen as I fix myself a glass of water, and I listen as he excuses himself from the conversation and comes over to me. I don’t know how I let things get this far, but it’s like a veil has suddenly been lifted; like a fog has finally cleared, and I don’t want this to be my normal anymore.

  “I’m going to Germany, Joe.”

  I keep my back to him as I speak, and I didn’t even know the words were coming until I heard them leave my mouth, but I know it’s the right thing to do now. I need the distance, from everything. It’s necessary.

  “I don’t want you to go, Kari.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you want.” I turn around, I look up at him, this tall, achingly handsome man.

  My guilty pleasure.

  My dirty secret.

  My downfall …

  “Running away isn’t going to solve anything, you know that, don’t you?�
�

  “The only thing I know, Joe, is that I have to get away from here. From you.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he repeats. But it doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it won’t change anything.

  I’m leaving.

  I’m walking away.

  Joe Millar needs to be my past.

  Before he destroys my future …

  Twenty-Four

  Today, I’ll finally book that flight to Frankfurt. Today, I’ll start to put Joe Millar behind me, for real this time. Today, I’ll try and think of a way to accept the shit Noah and I have done, because I still love him. I miss him. I miss us; everything we used to be. And the thought that we might never get that back still haunts me.

  Outside, it’s another warm and sunny day in Stavanger old town, and after breakfast I might go for a walk to clear my head; to forget what happened last night, because I’m not proud of what I did. I hate myself more and more as each day passes, but I have to learn to deal with what we’ve done, not let it drag me down.

  My phone ringing distracts me, and I check the screen. It’s Jenna, and for a second I consider ignoring it, but the last thing I need is her asking more questions. She already asks enough, so I answer it almost immediately.

  “Please tell me that you still being over there has nothing to do with Joe Millar?”

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  She gives a derisive snort, and I lean back against the counter and rub the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. Quite honestly, I’m surprised it took her this long to put two and two together. It was pretty naïve of me to think she never would.

  “Kari? Will you just tell what’s going on? And don’t lie to me, because, I swear, I’ll come over there if I have to.”

  “That would be a waste of time, I’m leaving for Germany as soon as I can get a flight.”