Page 28 of The Games We Play

Wes’ eyes widen before he screws up his face, a low whine, a hidden whimper then he fails to hide a grunt that rolls into a series of moans and curses. Ropes of cum spurt out of the tip as he pumps his hips, staring at Shane through his entire release.

There is a long, awkward stillness in the room. Even the air is dense and unmoving.

“Dudeeee.” Nathan elongates the word, breaking the silence.

Wes blinks out his daze and looks around the room in dumbfounded shock, then back to Shane. A brief look of shame crosses his face before he catches it, and his typical smug face returns as he tucks himself back into his pants. Pulling off his hoodie, he uses it as a towel as he cleans himself up. Shane sits like an ice sculpture next to him, staring at his hand that is drenched with Wes’ cum.

Wes tosses the dirty hoodie at him. “Thanks, buddy.” He pats him on the shoulder and stands up laughing, trying to play off everything that just happened.

“Who’s next?” he asks, taking a swig of water.

I look at the table and realize, it’s me. I’m up next and I want to throw the goddamn bottle against the wall, shattering it to amillion pieces, and just stop the game. But I’m the last person and the only one who hasn’t spun yet.

I want nothing more than to just walk out of here. I don’t owe these people anything. I’ve been here for twenty-four hours and don’t know anyone. I could do that and spend the next two weeks by myself, not caring what they think of me. But when I look over at Mimi, the shame blanketed over her feeds my desire to keep going.

I don’t want to leave her alone in what she’s done or make her feel even worse by leaving.

I keep my gaze on Mimi, watching her breath stall as I pull out one from the green jar.

Against a tree.

The awkwardness in the room finally starts to fade now that the attention is on me.

Still not diverting my gaze from Mimi, even though she still hasn’t bothered to look my way, her breath hitches as I pull from the red jar.

I unfold it and I can’t help but spit out. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Make your partner come.

“Who the fuck wrote this?” My voice is laced with irritation. I throw the paper down on the table as people squeeze in to read it. Mimi’s eyes widen as she realizes what is written and she palms her face, covering her mouth.

“Remember, girl, guy, or otherwise, you have to follow through,” Nathan reminds everyone with a sinister smile as he pats Wes on the back, like he’s some champion hero for following through with his dare.

God, he’s such a dick. He’s completely unfazed by what just happened.

Mimi finally looks up, her eyes are drowning in guilt. The corner of her brows are pinched together, almost as if she’s in pain for me.

I can’t find myself being mad at her, so I wiggle my eyebrows and give her a tight lopsided smile, attempting to relax us both.

Grabbing the bottle, I flick my wrist and turn the bottle. The empty glass spins over the wood panel of the table, and the patterned sound taunts everyone in the circle. It’s deathly quiet as it begins to slow and the kneading sound of glass on wood fades.

Mimi’s mouth drops open and my eyes flicker down to the bottle that’s pointed directly at her. As her eyes meet mine, I remain impassive and expressionless. I’m stoked it didn’t land on someone else, but the worry in Mimi’s face has me on full alert. We have to do this outside against a tree that everyone will witness.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Nathan yells, stomping his foot like a three-year-old.

I stand and hold out my hand to her.

She slides hers in mine and I guide her up. We head toward the front door, closing it behind us as loud shuffling and a couple verbal snips muffle behind it.

My jaw is clenched as I recall when she was walking to the bathroom with Shane, and an inferno begins to light deep inside me.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask, generic as hell, but I can’t seem to say anything more specific.

“Who?” She cranes her next to look at me. “Shane?”

Clenching harder, I nod.

She giggles, actually giggles, then shakes her head.

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