Page 18 of Play the Game

I had to send us both over the edge. I arched up hard. He bent his fingers and dragged them back out along my G-spot. I screamed from the intensity of the pleasure. I clenched down on his fingers, gripping him tighter. A hot wave of pleasure spiraled out from my core again. I rode wave after wave, stroking him the whole time, begging him to come with me. He arched into my fist and cried out my name as he pulsed in my grip and spilled his hot cum into my hand.

By the time I settled back into my body and opened my eyes, Jason had his cheek propped against my knee and was staring down at my face. His fingers were still inside me, and his dick, now spent but still at half-mast, was still in my hand. This felt so easy, so right. Another alarm rang in my head, this time a bit closer and a lot louder. I ignored it as best I could, but I couldn’t totally ignore the doubt that was creeping in, telling me this was too easy and too right.

In the morning, we had to go back to being just friends. We would never touch and taste and pleasure each other like this again, even though I knew I would want it again, only more desperately, because now I knew how good we could be together. But having him would mean breaking all the rules, over and over again. I couldn’t do it, not even for my best friend.

* * *

Jason

I handedTam a tissue and took a second one to wipe myself off. Then she curled against me, and for ten blissful minutes, I held her in my arms. We’d promised each other this night, and we had hours left to go. When she shifted and lay on her back, putting space between us, I kissed her hand, then slipped out of bed. I cleaned up in the bathroom, then ran warm water over a washcloth to take to her. I pictured how I would run it over her body, then kiss her and start all over again.

As I exited the bathroom, she brushed past me and shut the door in my face.

I pressed my palm against the closed door. “Tam?”

She didn’t answer. The shower started running full blast.

“Fuck me,” I muttered to myself.

I’d crossed her boundaries. Broken her friend rules. Although I’d had her consent, it was too much for her. We should have started more slowly, stuck to kissing, eased into a discussion about how we could set new rules for future nights together. We couldn’t put that genie back in the bottle, but I had to do something to stop this from ruining our friendship.

I dropped the washcloth on the desk tray that held coffee supplies, rooted around on the floor for my clothes, and pulled on my shorts and T-shirt. I perched on the edge of her bed, waiting for her to finish her shower, which dragged on for five minutes, then ten, then longer. I walked to the bathroom door and knocked gently.

“Tam, everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. You should head to bed. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Shit. She didn’t want to talk. I raked a hand through my hair and paced back and forth in front of the door. There was no hack for this. I couldn’t force my way past more of her boundaries or break through her firewall. But I couldn’t leave things this way, either.

I stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “Are you sure?” I called. “I could wait up for you.”

She turned off the shower. “No need for that,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. I knew her too well to buy it. “I’m just going to finish up in here, then I’ll need to crash.” She dramatically yawned loudly enough for me to hear it through the door.

I leaned against the doorframe, panic setting in. I hadn’t read the signals wrong. We’d both been in the bed, kissing, touching, and learning each other’s bodies. But I had miscalculated the fallout.

“Okay, well, goodnight,” I said.

I crawled into my own bed and switched off the light so she would feel comfortable enough to leave the bathroom. I didn’t have a choice. The only play left to me was to back off, respect her wishes, and spend days or weeks or however long it would take to repair what we’d broken.

PART3

THE APOLOGY JOB

CHAPTER 8

Tamela

We were backat Chicago HQ by 9:00 a.m. the next morning. Our team meeting would be later in the day, but Hart and I were sitting in the first-floor logistics room, already working on the plan for moving our operation to an Ann Arbor suburb. Once Jason received his invitation to join the Carbonados, we assumed they would move him to that facility, and we would need to have a home base already set up there.

I glanced at the wall across from me, which divided this space from the IT room. I wondered if Jason was back to his normal, upbeat self now that he was back in the office and working beside Alder. I hoped so because glum Jason, who’d only spoken a couple of words to me since we’d gotten up at 4:00 a.m. to drive back here, was breaking my heart. I’d done that to him. I’d become overwhelmed with how much I wanted from him, more than he could ever give me in one night or even one year. And then I’d shut down. That stupid yearning went against everything we’d promised each other last night, and I wasn’t ready to face him and tell him the truth. I probably never would be ready, so I would have to find another way to save our friendship.

“I have the home office setting up the rental house agreement in the name of one of our shell companies,” Hart was telling me. “The story we’re giving is that we’re using it for a series of executive retreats spread out over the next month.” She pulled up aerial images of a large property along the Huron River. “This barn has electricity, and our build team can have a Faraday cage, temporary walls, and secure network cabling set up in a couple of days. We should be able to move our operation there by Friday.”

“Great work,” I said. “We’ll need a contingency plan in case Jensen gets a call to meet with the Carbonados tonight or tomorrow.”

Hart nodded. “I’ll get a block of hotel rooms near there. Last-minute college friends’ reunion. I’ll tell them our venue was flooded, so we’ve moved cities.”

“You’re good at cover stories,” I said.

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