Page 184 of Let the Game Begin
He doesn’t… He didn’t…
“Have you never done that with a woman before?” I whispered gently, pushing my sweaty hair off my forehead so I could more closely observe the graceful lines of his face.
“I showed you how it is when a man likes it.” His expression displayed a certain troubled look that I couldn’t quite interpret because his presence was so overwhelming. Every time I tried to take in oxygen, my breastsgrazed his chest, and I became pathetically aroused, even as I still shook with the aftermath of pleasure.
“And how much…” I added smugly, and he turned to give me a scrutinizing look, which made me feel terribly embarrassed. He was somehow even more beautiful after sex, his eyes lazy and glittering, his lips swollen and red, the relaxed expanse of his glistening skin… I, meanwhile, was in who knew what sort of condition.
“Now you’ll have something of me to take back to Detroit with you.” He slipped his forearm under the back of my neck and let me rest next to him. Or rather…on him. I flattened my palm over his chest, and naked and in disarray, we gazed up at the sky together. We grew drunk on the stars in that echoing, deafening silence.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said suddenly, staring at me in that serious, penetrating way that made him look so breathtakingly beautiful, and I didn’t even try to hide my astonishment at hearing such a request from him. It was unexpected to say the least.
“What would you like to know?” I answered softly, blinking a few times in disbelief.
“Whatever you want to tell me,” he said, looking upward.
“I’d just finished my freshman year of college in Detroit before I transferred here. I was fairly well known. I had my group of friends and…” I stopped, licking my lips. “Jared,” I said, clearing my throat awkwardly because I didn’t know how Neil would react to hearing that name. But his golden eyes stayed fixed on the starry sky, so I went on.
“I had a normal life. I’ve always appreciated the simple things: a good book and a cup of hot cocoa…” I said, lightly stroking his chest as our bodies lay intertwined on the lounger. “I hated frat parties and the obnoxious basketball players who hit on everyone…kind of like you,” I said teasingly, though I knew it wasn’t at all accurate. It was women who hit on Neil because he was appealing, gorgeous, and reserved. So much so that it was nearly impossible to get close to him.
“I’m more discerning than you might think,” he said defensively, turning to look at me. I examined his features and wondered once more how he could be so perfect. That forehead, eyes, nose, lips, and chin—they lookedlike they’d been situated with the utmost precision by an especially perfectionistic god.
“Tell me more about yourself.” He shook me from my musings, looking actually curious about my life. I smiled at him and picked up where I’d left off.
“There’s not much to tell. I was mostly raised by my mother. The year my father left us, I stopped calling him ‘Dad.’” I glanced down at my index finger, stroking the skin between his pecs almost absent-mindedly and continued. “I knew he was living here in New York, but for four years, I always tried to avoid talking to him or meeting his family. That is to say, all of you…” I looked up to see him watching me with his usual dark, imperturbable expression.
“I was lucky to always have my mom at my side. I have a really great relationship with her.”
“What’s her name?” He continued to watch me, and I felt his warm breath on my face.
“Judith Martin. She’s a literature professor,” I said with pride. I was proud of the woman she was, not only in the professional sphere but also within our family.
“She was a very present mother who always gave me lots of attention. I miss her so much…” My voice broke because my mother’s absence was something that constantly hung over my life in New York. “I don’t get to talk to her that often because of her job, so I have this deep feeling of homesickness and loneliness,” I confessed, admitting this to myself for the first time as well as to him.
I’d always tried not to dwell on those feelings, but I couldn’t deny that I’d often felt alone, like I couldn’t count on anyone except for myself. True, solitude was sometimes meditative for me, but at other times, it could be painful.
“I feel lost,” I said in a small whisper. “Like I’m setting out on this journey through life on my own,” I continued and his golden eyes never left my face for even a second.
“Sometimes, I think I’m better off alone and that all I want is to live in a little place that’s just mine, untainted by the badness of other people. Butthere are other times when I also want someone else there to share it with me.” I swallowed, surprised by my own words. “It’s a contradiction, I know, but I have my…weirdnesses as well.” I tried to brush the admission aside, smiling shyly at him, but Neil just continued to stare at me in that grave way. He frowned a little bit—thoughtfully—and slipped his arm out from behind my head. He sat up, splendidly nude.
He ran a hand through his wet hair and glanced around as though looking for something. Then, apparently spotting what he sought, he stood up and gave me a full view of his chiseled physique and hard, firm ass.
I still didn’t know what he was doing, though, so I followed him with my eyes as he walked purposefully over to another deck chair and grabbed something. He returned to me and I saw he had the marker clutched in one hand. Then, he sat down next to me and pulled the cap off the marker with his teeth, leaning over my pelvic area.
I was… I was…nude with my privates exposed and rosy, still branded with his cum. I pressed my legs together out of embarrassed reflex but Neil didn’t even glance between my thighs. He was focused on something else.
He pressed the tip of the marker against my hip and began making lines that gradually resolved into a larger design. I lifted up my torso and craned my neck to see what it was and recognized a…shell. A solid black shell with a white pearl inside.
“Every time you feel alone, draw a pearl inside a shell,” he said softly, blowing on the drawing. Then he kissed my lower stomach, tracing a path up my stomach and over my breasts. He licked a nipple, making me go rigid with arousal and then, finally, he moved his face up level with mine. He stared at me, his golden eyes sly and laughing.
“What’s the story with the pearl and the shell?” I murmured with an honest smile that I couldn’t hide. Neil was just incredible on the whole with his crazy, creative ideas.
“It’s not a story,” he corrected. “It’s a legend.” He hovered over me, putting his hands on either side of my hips, covering me. Then, he touched his lips to mine, not quite kissing me. I stared deeply at him, examining the lines of amber that radiated from his pupil and dispersed into the gold of his iris.
How was it that this boy steeped in shadows had the sun in his eyes?
I bit my upper lip, embarrassed, and an automatic question slid off my tongue before I could stop it. It was probably a mistake but I had to try. At least try to know him.
“And us? What are we?”
