The Gamble: A Novel (14 page)

“When I fucking feel like it,” I snip, eyes piercing his.

Instantly he backs down, relocates his hands to the back of the couch, and simply sits, letting his hard cock greet the moment. I let my gaze wander down until it lands on what has to be the one of the Wonders of the World. Like an over swollen treat filled with something even sweeter, his long and full dick swindles another whimper out of my system.

Holy shit. Pretty sure this is what they use to make those monster dildo molds out of. It has to be.

He sighs, “Alexxa if you're not gonna fucking touch me, at least fucking kiss me.”

The less than sweet attempt to be understanding makes me smirk. I lean over and lightly press my lips to his at the same time my hand bravely wraps around his cock. As I hoped his breath falters along with his lips.

“Fuck, baby...”

Using the tip of my tongue I tease his top lip. “Beg...”

“Please....”

“Please what?”

His panting thrums through his entire body. “Stroke me.”

Moving my mouth away from his, I lean back, and begin a slow jerk. Just gripping something this engorged fills me with a sense of empowerment I've never had before. With every careful caress I can feel Luca relinquish the control I know he's always exerted in the bedroom. He groans deeply. His body shifts in request of more. I move my hand a little faster, documenting to my memory every single effect each motion presents. Unsure of what I'm doing, but curious on what makes him tick, I lower my hand to tug at his nuts, pleased to see the action elicits an animalistic cry.

“Fu...” is the only part of the word to successfully leak out.

As if the only thing on my agenda for the day is to analyze his cock's cravings, I continue my research of stroking at various paces, tugging to assorted levels, and teasing the exposed flesh of his neck with lecherous licks.

The moment I concoct the perfect combination of pressure and pumps, Luca's entire demeanor drifts the direction of delirious desperation.

His head hits the back of the couch. “No dejes. Tas tan Ccerca.”

My teeth dig sharply into my bottom lip.

No fucking idea what that means but it sounded sexy as hell with the accent.

“So close,” he declares in a rocky voice.

Relentless now in my efforts, I stroke faster and faster while my pussy tightens in resentment.

“Derecho ahi...” His cock hardens to a new level, which drags my eyes down. “Ahi...Si..” Suddenly his entire body begins to shudder and a scolding stream of come covers my hand. “Ahi...Ahi...”

Mesmerized by the sexually raw and arousing vision in front of me, my own lungs are suddenly being bereaved of air as if the only thing that should matter right now is him.

I'm beginning to believe it's the only thing that should ever matter.

It takes several long breaths, which we seem to take in a pendulum, before either one of us speaks.

I tease, “You're messy.”

“You asked for it,” he chuckles back.

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“When you demanded I take my fucking shorts off and touched my dick. What did you think would happen? An Al Green solo?”

I kick him in the shin as I reach for a napkin off the table. “You're not acting very grateful for someone who just got you off.”

Am I wrong?

At that moment, Luca grabs my arm, and yanks me back into him. His lips slide onto mine sweetly. I brace myself expecting his need to be in control again to flourish. Instead, he gently meshes his tongue with mine and offers it the very gratitude I accused him of not having.

Have I mentioned what a fantastic kisser he is? It's like mouth sex.

He draws his mouth away from mine and whispers, “I'm grateful for any piece of you I get.”

The weight of his confession instantly becomes too much to bare.

Wait...wait...This isn't right. He shouldn't be saying that. I shouldn't be doing this.
We
shouldn't be together. This was a mistake.

There's a brief jingling of keys seconds before the front door flies open. “Fuck you, Luca. Won't go to the grocery store
and
won't help me bring the shit up? Fucking useless.”

He covers himself with the blanket that had fallen to the floor at the same time I hop up.

“Didn't know you were here,” Warren hums, hitting the kitchen lights and dropping the grocery bags on the counter.

“Just leaving,” I casually announce.

“You are?” They question in unison.

Between the disappointment in Luca's voice and confusion in Warren's I know it's definitely the best idea right now. I need...some air. Or some wine. Or an entire package of Oreos. Something. Anything to help me cope with the huge mistake we just made on the couch. What? Of course it was a mistake! We're best friends not bed buddies.

“Yeah, gotta send a couple emails for work,” I lie as I grab my wallet and car keys off the bar. “We'll hang out soon, babe.”

He gives me a shrug and kiss on the cheek. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

Luca grumbles something and states, “I'll text you later.”

Rather than turning around to reply, I simply give him a wave and continue my way out of their apartment.

This is bad. This is so very bad. How is it the more I hope we pedal backwards the more we rush forward? Is all this as wrong as I think it is? And if it is then why does being with Luca feel so goddamn natural, like
this
is how we were always meant to be. Oh my gosh....did I really just say that? Yup. I definitely need a drink.

Luca

I've done my fair share of avoiding women. I've had to switch gyms and gym times. Favorite bars and restaurants. But that was years ago when I was too stupid to realize fucking women from your favorite places can ruin them. Now when I'm done, I make it very fucking clear, verbally or via text, things are over. That their rotation in my schedule is done. While it isn't always a smooth transition it's an honest one. Problem with hooking up with someone you have to spend the entire day with in a classroom is there's nowhere to hide. The only thing worse is being on the receiving end. Which I am. Alexxa didn't text me back last night. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Convince myself she fell asleep. But then she didn't text me on my way in to bring her breakfast. It's Monday. I always grab us breakfast on Mondays during the summer. Even now with the day in the final quarter, she hasn't said more than absolutely necessary to me. Apparently, I fucked this up. I'm just not quite sure how. I wasn't the one who sprinted out of the apartment like it was on fire last night. That was her. Another first. Chicks don't leave me without being asked. In case you're wondering, I didn't fucking like it.

“This magician sucks,” Marcus grouses in my ear.

“He can't make you disappear so I guess you're right.”

Marcus frowns and folds his arms.

I slouch further down into my seat.

Kid's right. This guy isn't very good, but I've got bigger problems to deal with other than being able to see the strings of his scarf trick.

After a couple more tricks, we clap and make a swift exit out of the auditorium to allow the younger classrooms their chance at the planned summer event. While
most
of camp for the school age students is fun places and outings, every day can't be had outside of the school. During the down days are the planned art project and occasionally the planned visitors everyone in the school gets to enjoy to make up for the fact they're too young to have field trips.

Once we're back in the classroom, the students break into different centers, some on the computer, some reading, while others make crafts and play board games. The after school classroom takes up a large corner portion of the entire building. It's built to comfortably accommodate forty students at any given point. The room is broken into different learning areas, including sections for cooking, science projects, a stage area for music and drama, along with a library area filled with books, tables for homework, and computers.

What can I say? We hang out in luxury. Their parents are more than willing to pay for it according to the wait list for this program.

As soon as everyone seems content, I make my way over and sit down on the bean bag in the reading area next to Alexxa who has Clare leaned against her.

“Stranger,” I cheerfully greet

“Hey.”

Adjusting my shorts I sigh, “So you wanna tell me why you're avoiding me or should I start guessing?”

Alexxa turns to me. “This is the quiet part of the room.”

“I am being quiet.”

“No, you're talking. This area is for reading.”

Aha. Hide in the quiet zone, so she can continue to avoid me further. Unfortunately for her there's an easy solution to that. She can block one shot, but not all of 'em.

I lean around her and say, “Hey, Clare. They want a fourth player for Trouble. You should go get in.”

She looks up from her chapter book. “I love Trouble.”

“And you're usually the best player at it. Winner gets a candy bar today.”

Clare scrambles to get up as fast as she can. Within seconds she's flown across the room, book left in the dust beside Alexxa.

She moves her head to face forward again. “That was low.”

“'Cause
you're
fighting fair?”

She quickly snips under her breath, “I'm not
fighting
with you.”

“No. You're just not
talking
to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Alexxa argues and rises to her feet.

“Clearly,” I mumble and copy her stance. “Instead of running away like you have all day, how about you stand right there, and have an actual adult conversation with me.”

Her eyes twitch a glare, but she keeps them planted on the classroom. “About what?”

“You didn't text me this morning.”

“I was running late.”

“Or last night.”

“Fell asleep.”

“And you ran off like you stole something when Warren got home.”

She did steal something from me. My goddamn fucking pride. What kind of self-respecting adult male blows his load from a fucking hand job? A fucking hand job?! There's a golden rule. There's pussy in the room you hold out for it. You're not offered any then you keep that shit locked up tight until she fucking leaves, then you mentally fuck the shit out of her. A blow job? Fuck yeah. That's like nuking a hot pocket because delivery would take too long. But a hand job? That's like having one pizza roll and calling it dinner. It's meant to tide you over until the better shit is ready. Most embarrassing fact isn't even that I came like some adolescent fresh out of juvie, it's that I begged in English
and
fucking Spanish for it. Spanish! I rarely speak it outside of conversations with ma', yet I couldn't remember how to speak my first language if you paid me yesterday. Then there was begging. The goddamn begging. In any other circumstance it's
me
who has women begging. I have it on fucking tape! I don't know what the hell it is about Alexxa, but every time we're together it feels like the first time I've ever been sexual. Part of me fears how quick I'll bust a nut when I finally get inside of her. Oh....I'm gonna get inside that sweet pussy. Don't start doubting me.

“Now's not a good time to talk about this.”

She attempts to walk away when I grab her. “Maybe not. But I know you. At the end of the work day you're gonna bail as fast as you did last night. So let's talk about it now.”

Alexxa snatches her hand away from me. “No.”

“Didn't we talk about my distaste for that word yesterday?”

The sexual implication does as I hoped. Her eyes flood with excitement, but only briefly. She lowers her voice. “You have my word, Luca. We'll talk when all the kids are done.”

Tossing my hands up in surrender, I back off and allow her to resume her retreat.

We're gonna talk here and do a little more when we get home. Um...not home. My apartment. We don't...just...it's been a long fucking day, alright?

I spend the remainder of the afternoon losing board games to Clare and destroying children at freeze tag on the after school playground.

Doesn't matter the sport. I always play to win. Even against kids. Yeah. I know. But I like being competitive.

With only about twenty minutes left, the last student leaves, and we're left alone to complete our closing duties.

As soon the door shuts, I ask, “What the fuck is going on? Why are you avoiding me?”

Alexxa sighs, “I'm not avoiding you. I just needed a little space.”

“How is that different?” When she can't dispute it, I push, “Just tell me what I did wrong. Tell me what the fuck I did wrong, so I can figure out what play I need to pull to fix this.”

“Our friendship's not a game, Luca.” She puts away a board game box and turns my direction. “And we can't keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“What happened yesterday,” Alexxa starts slowly. “Or the night before or the night before. We can't keep doing any of it.”

I lean against the counter closest to the door. “Why not?”

“Because we're
friends
, Luca. That's not what friends do.”

“Naked friends could.”

She doesn't even a crack a smile.

No humor here. Foul point on me.

“What's so wrong with what's starting to happen?”

“Everything.”

Her reply forces my eyebrow to scrunch in confusion. “You're being vague. I hate that shit. Don't try to spare my feelings like I'm on the third day of my fucking period. Just be fucking honest with me.”

“You want me to be honest, Luca? Completely fucking honest?”

“I always am with you.”

This bet isn't lying. She's never asked. And she's known from the day we started hanging out I've always wanted to bone her. Over the years I simply got better about fighting the urge, keeping it hidden, and making my small advances look like drunken mistakes. Kept me from fouling out until now.

“The only thing you want from me is sex.”

My lips press together not admitting the truth in her statement.

Don't agree with her. I'm not as sure as I used to be that's
all
I want.

“That's all you ever want from anyone,” she continues, a hint of sadness in her tone. “That's all you've ever wanted from anyone. I'm not that chick. I don't wanna be someone's Monday, Wednesday, and I guess I'm free Friday. I don't wanna be one more dent on your bedroom wall.”

I run a hand through my hair. “It's not like that with you though.”

She tries to smile. “And I almost believe you. If I didn't know you as well as I do, I would totally buy into the bullshit you're selling me right now.”

Offended, I snap, “It's not bullshit, Alexxa.”

“It saddens me even more because I know when you say it, you really believe it. But it is what it is. You know exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it to make it
feel
real. I don't just want something that feels real. I want something that actually
is
. I don't wanna be in some weird sexual limbo with my best friend. I wanna be in a real relationship.”

I don't date. But I really don't do fucking relationships. Never have. I know how they end. My father has a classic car collection and several noteworthy mentions framed in his office that can be admitted into evidence as proof relationships
don't
work. Sex works. Everyone loves sex. Everyone loves to get off. It's one game there is an endless amount of seasons and an even more endless amount of players. Friendship also works. Same story. Everyone loves a good teammate to hang out with. See a movie. Have a beer. Shoot the shit. A balanced combination of the two, if it existed is something I would try. But that wouldn't exactly be considered a relationship so much as a friends with benefits situation. Right?

My voice takes a defeated tone. “But I really liked this past weekend with you. All of it. Not just the exchanged orgasms, Alexxa. The other shit too.”

A yearning expression flashes across her face. “Me too...”

“Then why can't we just do that? Hang out and get off.”

The suggestion stiffens her body.

Yeah. Yeah. Another fucking foul.

“Because I refuse to become another permanent name in your skankadex.”

“You could never be one of those women.”

“As long as we don't repeat this weekend. You're absolutely right.” This time she doesn't leave room for an objection. “Strictly friends from now on. K?”

I simply shrug.

There's no fucking way I'm agreeing to that. Bet or no goddamn bet, we're not fucking going back to the way things were. I just...I don't know where they're going to go from here. Can't predict next season when I'm so unsure about this one.