Paying the Price
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
Rating: adult
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. The copyright belongs to me.
Warnings: m/f, coercion, no safer sex.
Thanks to Tinnean for encouragement and beta of an earlier version from April 2000.
*****
He shrugs, even though I give him my best 'the bitch is back' glare. "You're the one who said 'anything'," he reminds me, as if that's something I want to hear at this point, or ever.
"I'm not the one who came up with the idea," I snap back. If he says 'you lost' even one damned time, I swear I'll walk out, no matter what kind of shit he'll try and give me for the next hundred years.
He must see it in my eyes or the set of my hands on my hips, because he doesn't. "That's right." His voice is calm, but I can hear the resolution in it. He's going to stay with this conversation until he gets what he wants. Damn, damn, damn. He knows me too well. "I did. So what?"
I should have set conditions, but my hand was so good. I should have known his was better, from the way he was egging me on. I'm never going to play poker with him again. I try to look casual and calm. "So nothing. You want to have sex?" It has to be what he's leading up to, but I don't know how I'm going to. "Just don't expect me to be as in to it as you are. I'm not at my best when I get tricked."
He amazes me again. "Oh, no, baby. That's not what I want. Not that I don't want it," he adds smoothly enough to stop me from feeling bad. "Just not this way." He chuckles. "When we get it on, you're going to want it so bad, you're going to be begging me to put it in. Depend on that."
I sigh. We've had this conversation or one like it a lot in the last few months, so it's no good to bring up my boyfriend. Mark's my best friend, and he's just this way, joking around. But it's usually easier to live with.
"Then what do you want? I know you want something."
"Sure I do. But if I tell you now, you'll get weird. Weirder."
I frown. I'm not weird.
"Or you'll tell that guy you've got on a string - wait, forgot, it's the other way around. Don't you ever get tired of his tricks?"
"Leave it, will you?"
He grins and cocks his head, but thankfully doesn't say any more. He doesn't think much of my current boyfriend, and the feeling's mutual. It's like walking a high wire without any shoes when they get together, painful and with no room for error. I usually bribe my boyfriend with promises of sex any way he wants it, get them both drinking, and make sure the conversation stays on neutral topics, like sports. At least if they fight about that, they're staying on common guy ground. It would help keep the peace if Mark brought a date, but since he figured that one out too, he won't. It's more fun for him to flirt with me when Dave's not looking, watch me get flustered and have to handle it, have himself a great time. If I could only stop getting hot for my best friend... who's showing me to the door. Huh?
"I'll call when I've got it all set up. All you have to do is show up." He smiles and kisses my neck. I'm shocked at how strong the wave of heat is that swishes down all the way to my thighs. It wouldn't take much for me to fall into bed with him now. "Won't be long. Don't worry."
I'm on the stairs and the door's closed before I can say anything, and I'll be damned if I'm going to beg him for an answer when I can tell there's no way he'll give me one now. How long, I'm thinking as I head to the store for something to cook for dinner, an apology in advance for Dave, for something he'll never know, if I'm lucky. As I check out the salmon, I keep thinking of Mark. What is he going to want? My thoughts just keep getting me wetter and wetter.
It's all I can do to get back to my place with my jeans on. I throw the package of salmon in the fridge and the rest of the stuff on the counter and hit the bedroom. Thank goddess the vibrator's always plugged in. I lose my jeans on the floor, collapse on the bed, and switch it on with a moan. I have to get off. The waves hit my clit, release comes fast, and I'm glad I didn't open any windows. I'm loud, and I know whose name I called out: Mark's. In my mind I can hear his laughter, and it's satisfied. There is no way he can know about this, but I'd bet all the money in my account he does. He knows I'm hot, the bastard, and for him. That's what this is all about. He probably stacked the deck. Of course it's too late now to do anything about it. I groan and throw the vibrator down. He's got something in mind for me, and what's it going to do to our friendship? To me?
Dave doesn't even ask why I've gone to all the trouble of cooking, lighting candles, even finding napkins that are clean and match. He just thinks I want sex, which of course I do, and that's what I get for all my work. It's fast, fun, and just not enough to get Mark out of my head. After I push him for a second time, and get it, I take a break to go splash some cold water on my too-hot skin, and when I get back, he's asleep. All I can do is pull up the sheet and start some deep breathing. Why does he have to poop out now?
*****
I get the e-mail from Mark the next morning at work, and choke on my coffee. Show up that night at eight, it says, and how he thinks I'm going to explain it to Dave isn't even mentioned. Or does he know that Dave wouldn't think twice if I called and said I was going out with some friends, why doesn't he do the same? Hmmm. Sometimes I'm not sure how much I've told him about us, unless I talk a hell of a lot more than I think when I'm trashed. I hope not. Maybe he just picks it up out of the air. I know he and Dave aren't having daily chats. I'm not that paranoid. But sometimes I wonder just how much he gets without me knowing it, with the little questions, the noting of the casual things I say.
But none of that matters right now. There's more to the message, and now that I've solved the problem of Dave - and when did my boyfriend become a 'problem'? - I'd better find out what else he's got in mind.
Don't dress (and I know what that has to mean, I won't be wearing clothes too long), it says, and oh, bring your vibrator. You'll need it. He signs off with 'do as you're told' and his initial, and I'm left sitting there with my mouth open and my brain whirling. My vibrator? This is definitely going to be a weird night.
*****
Dave grabs at the bait with a speed that's almost indecent, and I'm tempted to start a fight about it. But that's how I want it to be, and I don't want any questions about my night, so I don't. It's probably nothing, I tell myself, and check my messages again when I'm off the phone, hoping there'll be something more from Mark that'll give me a better clue about the evening, but of course there isn't.
So I take another shower and scrub my skin, pull on my loosest jeans and a XXL t-shirt that goes down to my knees, pull my hair into a perky ponytail, pull it loose again so I can hide behind it if I need to, and pack up my vibrator. My clit's thrumming again, calling me to strip off at least the jeans and jam a finger or two in me and get off, but I make myself keep going. I'm scared of what Mark's got planned, but now I'm excited, too, and I know I'm going to do it. I want to find out what will happen when my best friend runs a scene on me. Because that's what it has to be, I've realized. He's taking this chance to show me what he can do for me that Dave can't, and I'm going into it ready. Even though I'm still not sure it's a good idea, I'm going through with it.
*****
I get to Mark's five minutes early. He's opening the door almost before my finger hits the doorbell, and I know he's been watching for me. When he leans over to kiss my cheek, I smell him, know he's as hot as I am, and I want to grab him, tell him I want him now, forget about the bet. But I don't. Instead I try to take the moment back by pushing past him into the apartment.
"So now what?" I'm trying to keep my voice cool, but it's a lot deeper than I want it to be.
He grins and slides his arm around me. It's firm, and I want to lean against him and give in and let him do what he wants with me. It's taking all my will not to. "You look pretty. Too bad you won't be wearing that much longer."
"Mark, I have to know what's going to happen here." This time I do sound cool, and he frowns.
"Come on, honey. It's a little late to be pulling this kind of shit." By the time he finishes, he's amused again. "You're here, and I've got everything under control. And," he pauses just long enough for me to open my mouth, "you lost."
I want to tell him to forget it, but I'm here, he wants me, and the thrumming is spreading through my body, from my clit to my lips, wet and tender, and my belly, making the anger dissolve into desire. I don't care any more. "Whatever," I try, but he laughs and I know he hasn't bought it.
"You'll have fun. I promise." He tugs me farther into the room. "Give me that." He reaches for the bag with the vibrator, and I let him. "And come in here."
He's leading me to his bedroom. Now, I've been in there before, no problem, but tonight it's mysterious, intense, seductive: lit candles all around; there's soft sandalwood incense burning, lulling my senses into even more desire; and Mark presses up against my ass, letting me feel how hard he is. I'm gone. If he got me on the bed I'd moan and spread my legs for him. He has to know this.
But that doesn't seem to be what he has in mind. "O.K., now this is how it's going to go." He steps back, and I almost fall on the bed. Huh? I catch myself in time. He doesn't seem to notice, but I wouldn't bet on it. "You want me," he says bluntly, and I wish I had the will to tell him he was wrong. But all I do is nod. His grin widens. "I've been waiting for that. And I'll bet you'd like it if I took you now." I don't give him a response to that, but I doubt he needs one. "Too bad. You're not going to get that. I want something even more open than a quick fuck from you. I want you to give me a show. And that's what you're going to do."
"Mark," I'm shaking my head, "I don't know about that."
"You can do it, baby." He sits me down on the bed with his arm around me. "You have to. And I know how." I don't even want to ask, so he tells me. "I'll blindfold you. You can pretend, for a while," his laugh is wicked, "you're alone."
"Pretend?" I think I know what he means, but I want to hear him say it.
"It won't be just your show. I'll join in when I want. Don't worry, I'll be safe. It'll all be. And that way you don't have to worry about brainless back home. Getting off in front of an audience isn't screwing around on him."
I have to fight, even if only a little. I can't just let him think he can get away with anything. Besides, what if he has some kind of idea he could really do something like that? He might try to pull it another time. I'm almost sure he isn't tonight, but then, what do I know? But I don't want to fight. I want this. I want him.
"What do you care if it's just me, or forty other guys watching too? Oh, right," he's drawling now, cool and in control, "you might like that. So go ahead. Take the clothes off."
I shift to stand, but he's right there. Before I can stop him, he's got something around my head, cutting off my sight. I reach up to pull it off, and he's got my left wrist in his hand, then I feel something cool lock around it and I can't move it.
"Fight more, and I'll cuff the other one. Then it really will be my show. And you might not like how I decide to run it. Got it, baby?" He's stripping my jeans off, the air brushing the light hairs on my legs and making them stand up in goose bumps.
"Got it." I know my voice is shaky, but I don't care. It's out of my hands now, there's nothing I can do, and I trust him.
"That's good." Hands, and I think they're his, push me up against something hard that has to be the headboard. "Cause I'd hate to have to take your other hand away. I've been waiting a long time to find out how you got yourself off."
The hands are down at my thighs, pushing them open. I moan and tense the muscles, but fingers stroke the inner skin, and I can't do anything but relax. Hell, I don't want to. I'm scared, yeah, but there's a thrill in knowing I can't do anything to stop this. He can see everything, and me? Nothing at all.
His hand is pushing my free hand down to my wetness, and I give up the rest of the way. Whatever he wants, I'll do it. Just let him tell me what it is.
"Touch yourself, baby." His voice has a huskiness in it that gives me another, deeper thrill. I'm getting him hotter. Me and my not-so-thin body, with its curves that I usually hide with loose clothes. He wants me.
"What about the vibrator?"
"Later, maybe. I want this to last." His laugh is even more wicked now. "I wanted you to be thinking about getting off the whole way here."
I was, too.
"If Dave could only see you now."
"Leave him out of it." I'm begging. I don't want to think about anything but how it feels to have my finger pressing against my swollen clit, and not to be able to see him, how free and hot and wild I feel. I want him to undo me, to grab me and push his cock into me, to make me come with him.
But he won't. I know that for sure. He's got a plan, and I'm in it.
"How do you know he's not here watching too?" He's whispering, his cheek up against mine, smoother than I thought it would be. "Do you know?"
"No. But I know he isn't." And I'm telling the truth. That's not something he'd ever do. And if I'm wrong, it just proves he's not who I think he is. So it isn't him, anyway. But I'm not getting into metaphysics with Mark.
"You're too damned smart for my good." He's moved away, but his hand is wrapped around my wrist, making me stroke faster and faster. "He'd spoil everything." A pause, and I get close to coming, angle my fingers toward thrusting in to make it happen. His fingers tighten, stop me. "I said I want this to last."
His voice is too even. Something's changed. The air moved, but he didn't. There *is* someone else in the room and I want to ask who it is, but I won't. This game doesn't work that way, and I know it.
I want to come, but I'll wait.
"That's better." His voice is caressing now. "You'll come, just not yet." He pulls my shirt up over my head, and I can feel it by my cuffed wrist.
"Please." I'm begging again. It's so empty. By now I'd be shoving my fingers in and out, if I hadn't gotten up and found something better to use.
"You want something more in there? You got it."
It's like he's reading my mind, and something blunt and cool presses into me, stretching me almost too much. It makes me forget about the other person. It's just what I want, so I push my hips toward it.
"Easy, baby," he's laughing now, "don't rush me." I try to keep still, but I want it in me, I want it now. "You are desperate. Do I have to tie you down to get you to behave?"
I don't want that. This is enough. So I make myself sit still, and for a reward, he pushes another insane half-inch into me.
"That's better."
I can hear breathing. Whoever's here has moved closer. I make myself speak. "I know someone's watching."
"That's right, baby. This good a show shouldn't be just for one guy."
I moan. I want to see them, see if this guy's cute, if I'd want him if I saw him on the street. But I don't ask to see. Not yet. I don't want to see too.
"Take a good look." Mark's voice is intimate. How well does he know this guy? Or do I even want to think about that? Later. Not now. "Isn't she the prettiest thing?"
"Yeah." Thank god it's a strange voice. I don't even want to think about doing this in front of someone I know. "Too bad you can't see her eyes."
"You don't need to to know she's hot."
They both laugh. "She is that." It's the stranger talking, then there's another thrust from the whatever-it-is. It's not a guy, I know that much, but what the hell is it? I'm getting close again, my finger whipping across my clit, when a hand grabs my free wrist. It isn't Mark's.
"Sorry," the stranger says, and I know he isn't talking to me. "My turn."
"Go right ahead." Mark's laughing, damn him. When did this turn into a comedy? "Why should she have all the fun?"
Someone yanks the beautiful hard cock-thing out of me, and I hear a gasp, and it's me. Then I'm being pulled down the bed, flat and helpless, my wrist still in a tight grip. It's gone, and then it's back. I know Mark's got me now, because he's the one whispering to me, his breath hot and welcome against my ear.
"What a night you've having. Some guy you've never even seen, had a drink with, kissed even, is going to eat you out until you scream, baby. And you can't do a damned thing about it. No guilt, no foul. He's going to drive you crazy, and then, if you're lucky, he'll let you come. But maybe," he chuckles, "I won't let him. I like you like this. Aren't you glad I won?"
He's not going to get me to answer that, not when there are hands spreading my thighs, and a brush of soft hair in between them letting me know this guy's head is getting right up where he can see, smell, and taste me. This is insane. But I can't stop it, I don't want to stop it, and I'm going to take everything I can from it. I want this guy I've never seen to show me what he can do, to make me come any way he wants.
There's a touch, a lick, I think, along my inner lips, and I jump. I hear Mark laughing again, and I want to damn him, but I'm too damned busy trying to get closer to that tongue. I want it.
"Going to make her wait?" It's Mark talking, of course.
"Don't know." The other guy's voice is muffled, and I shiver from the vibrations of it against my skin. "Maybe I want to see what she can do."
"Fine. I said, do what you want, and I meant it. Make her come all over the place if that's what gets you off. Me, I like desperate women."
"And I like this woman."
Oh, that makes me feel good. Almost as good as the lips that settle down and take my clit between them, sucking, the tongue that flickers across it and drives me crazy enough to do anything, if I wasn't there already, the fingers that slide almost too slowly into me and press into just the right place. I'm coming and coming again, so much I can't tell where one orgasm stops and the next one starts, and I love it.
But it all comes to a stop much too soon. I know I'm something to see, my hips twisting along with my whole body, but I don't care. I'm not finished!
The two men are talking, but I can't make out what they're saying. I'm too out of it. Then I hear Mark.
"Yeah, that'll work." He's laughing. "Bruce, you're something else."
I want to ask what they're talking about, but there's a mouth on each nipple, and I know. Both of them working on me at the same time. I'm going to go crazy. Then one of them, and it's probably this guy Bruce - his hands are rougher than Mark's - takes my clit between his fingers and pinches, rubs, works it until I shudder and buck and moan into the mouth that's now firmly over mine. It's not Mark's. I know that much, and the thrill of being kissed by another man is insane, wonderful. Why have I settled for one guy? Mark's right. Dave's not enough for me. I'm free, I'm flying, I'm me.
Then the fingers go away, others slide in, and I'm back in my body, and it wants more. "Please. Please." It's all I can say - I go incoherent when I get this hot.
"You're so pretty." It's Bruce, whispering to me. "So hot. I want you so much. I wish I could fuck you. Can I?"
I want to say 'yes', the hell with Dave, and I'm about to, when Mark's voice breaks in. "Hey, cut that out. I told you, no fucking." He laughs. "She's got a boyfriend. Can you believe it?"
"Yeah. I sure can." Bruce's hand keeps stroking my skin, gentling me, I think, even while Mark's fingers are working me back up to the frenzy I love. "Come on, come for me. Let me watch this time."
He's still whispering, and there's something about his voice, sincerity, maybe, that makes me want to give him what he wants. Not that I don't want it myself. Mark's turning out to be a devil, getting me close, then changing over to another kind of thrusting, stroking, anything, and it stops my orgasm right in its tracks. Bastard, but I love it. I want to come, but I love being made to wait.
"Please." I'm really begging this time. Mark's got me so damned close, you'd think I could just go over, but no. I'm hanging on the edge of something incredible, and he's hanging on to me as though if I go over, he'll lose me. I moan, and I know my body's saying 'please' too.
"Want it, baby?" It's Mark, and he's got an intensity I've never heard from him before. "Well, we're ready for it, too, and you're going to help us." One of them is undoing the cuff as he goes on. "You've got two hands and a mouth. Get us off, we'll get you off. That's the deal. Want it?"
I want so damned much to touch and taste their cocks. So much that I reach out as soon as I'm free, even though I can't see where the hell I'm reaching. I'm rewarded. Like magic, I've got one in each hand, but my hungry tongue is licking out and getting nothing from my hungry mouth.
"Here." It's Mark's voice, rough and deep, and one of my hands is empty. "Suck on that, baby." The head is between my lips, and I can taste him. Oh, god, I'm in heaven, musky, spicy heaven. I can't believe how good he tastes, so damned much better than Dave or any other guy I can remember sucking on. "I've been waiting years to find out how good that mouth is. You get her hands."
"Fine." Bruce sounds like he means it, and in gratitude I work him harder. Mark thrusts into my mouth, and I make sure to suck him, too.
I get so lost in getting them off I forget all about me, until Mark pulls out, and the next thing I feel is warm spurts on my belly. I figure I have to get Bruce off, too, before I get what I want, and I use everything I know, both hands, the pressure point at the base of the shaft that most men don't even know about, a quick flicker across the head with my fingernail that gets him hissing, and the full grab and hard stroke, over and over and over again, that ends up being enough to get him to cry out and leak fluid all over my hand. I want to taste it, but either Mark or Bruce wipes it off before I can.
I'm still, for once, when I feel something pressing into me. Who? I wonder, and then I know. It's that beautiful cock-thing, back again, hard and ready to give me what I need. I thrust up toward it, and it's there, and it keeps going, and I hear someone crying out and begging and absolutely making noises I've never heard, and it's me. I'm in a place I've never been, and I may never be again, but I'm there now, and that's all that matters, and more thinking than that is too much for me. I just go, and after a while I can't measure, I'm finished. And even then everything goes right. Just before I'm ready to say something, the cock-thing is drawn gently out, and I'm covered with something light, the sheet, probably.
"Beautiful one," I hear someone whisper as he kisses me, and I know it's Bruce, the man I've never even seen. "Thank you."
"Thank me." And that's Mark, my arrogant best friend, and now my lover? Life is strange. "I got you in here. Be nice to me, or you'll never see her again."
I don't have enough strength to protest; I don't even have enough strength to stay awake. I'm drifting off, going away. Will I ever find out who Bruce really is? Do I care?
The last thing I feel is another kiss, this time on my cheek, but from which one?
*****
I know when I wake up I haven't been asleep long, but long enough. The blindfold's gone, and the room's empty. I get up and find my clothes folded at the end of the bed, put them on, and head out. I don't know what I'll find, but I want to know.
"Hey there." Mark's sitting on his couch, and he's alone. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. Do I really want to meet this other guy? I can't make up my mind, so I sit next to him. "Want some of my beer?"
I take the glass and drink some. "What time is it?"
"Nine. Still early. You going home?"
"I'd better." He takes the glass away from me. "Well," I do not know how to put this, "thanks for everything." Oh, that sounds smart. Too late now.
"This isn't the end, honey." He's got a definite tone, one I don't want to cross. "Don't get that idea into your pretty head."
I want to tell him to go to hell, it was just a bet, but I can't. I know better than that. "We'll talk. Not now, though, Mark." I head toward the door.
"Don't forget this." He's beside me, holding out the bag with my vibrator in it. I'm flushing, damn it, and he's grinning. "Sorry we didn't get around to using it."
Before I can get out, he bends over and kisses me. It's long, slow, and almost enough to get me to forget all about Dave and the fight from hell we'll have if I stay out all night.
"Sleep well, baby. I sure will."
I escape. It's a close thing, since I really don't want to, but he doesn't try anything more. Why not?
*****
When I get home, Dave isn't even there, which makes things a hell of a lot easier. I stash the vibrator under the bed on my side, jump into the shower, then put together a roast-beef sandwich with lettuce and lots of mustard, since I'm hungry but not hungry enough to cook, and go to bed. Wiped is not even close to how I feel. I don't know when Dave gets back, but it's late, and he smells like a bar, all smoke. I just turn away. Tomorrow.
*****
Sleep does its magic, and my life and what I need to do to get it the way I want it is all pretty clear the next morning, so I get out of the apartment for some privacy, grab a table at the good coffee place, and circle places to rent in the paper until it's time to go to work. No more Dave, no thank you. Maybe Mark's going to want me again, maybe not. Guys come and guys go, that's the way of the world, and that's fine. The big thing is that I want me, that me I had last night. I'm not letting her go.
I'm pretty busy, breaking the news to Dave, who doesn't take it too well. Thinks I'm mad because of something he did, and it takes a while to get him to see I don't give a damn. Then I've got to start packing, so it isn't until a couple of days later I finally get around to returning one of Mark's calls. He's pretty cool.
"Heard you and the man have split," is all he says about that, but I can hear the pleasure, and I smile myself. "Need any help?"
"I'm moving this weekend." I got lucky and found a place I can afford that's available now.
"I'm free. I'll clean out my car and be there early Saturday morning."
"Thanks."
A pause, and I'm wondering what to say or if I should even try and if he expects sex for helping me move.
"Hey, how about dinner? Pizza, and I'll let you choose what goes on it."
Well, I've got to eat, and he sounds fine, a little interested. "Sure. I've already packed up my share of the kitchen stuff."
"See you whenever."
"Beer or wine?"
"Taken care of. Just get here before it gets too late. I'm already hungry."
He hangs up before I can ask anything more, and I get back to spreadsheets and figures. But there was something about his last sentence. Hungry for what? For once I'm not sure if he meant pizza - or me.
*****
When I get to his place, it's like nothing's changed between us. A quick hug at the door, and then we're into what goes on the pizza and what I'm drinking. A couple of times I pick up a look that's got a question in it, but I don't know what it is or what to answer. If he wants to know something, let him say it. He started this whole damn thing.
And when we're on our third slices, he does. "So who dumped who?" His grin shows he's sure of the answer of this question, at least.
"I dumped him." I gulp some more wine. There has to be more he wants to know.
"So why now?"
He wants me to say it, and why not? "After you and Bruce worked me over, I didn't see the point of staying with Dave. You were right, he wasn't good enough. Not even close."
Now why does he look like this answer's not his first choice? Men.
"Glad I could help." He doesn't sound glad; his voice could shatter glass, but it won't shatter me. "Want Bruce's number?"
I'm glad I don't have a full glass. I'd have slopped it all over me. "Why? Does he want me to have it?"
"You are dumb for such a cute girl." He's angry now. "Sure, he wants you to have it. If I'd told him your last name, he'd have called by now, believe me. What the hell do you think?"
I don't know what to think. "Will you just say whatever it is you want me to hear and get it over with? I've got enough going on in my life without my best friend turning into some kind of insane person!"
"Why the fuck do you think I'm acting this way? Baby, you're enough to drive any man crazy." He drains his glass and holds it like some kind of weapon, waving it at me. "Or are you just teasing me again?"
"I've never teased you." Now I'm pissed. "Never, Mark."
He doesn't even seem to hear that. "You've left that guy, and you don't even call me? I get to hear it from Jill, who's real surprised to hear I don't know, since," he slips into a mimic of her voice, "'oh, you're just her *best* friend, everybody knows that, oh, poor Mark, did you two have a fight?'" He glares at me and goes back to his own voice. "Oh, yeah, I'm going to tell little gossip Jill the truth! 'Not really, I just got her in bed, brought in another guy,'" he's furious, and I'm still not really sure why, this isn't enough, "'and now I don't have any ideas if what got her off was me, me and this guy, or just this guy!'"
He's jealous of this guy he brought into the equation? Oh, my god. "This was all your idea." I'm not going to make it easy for him. "I didn't ask you to bring in another guy. Hell, I didn't even ask you to *do* anything."
"Just answer the question." He's got himself under control now. "You want his number?"
"Not now." Maybe not ever, but I'm not going to rule anything out.
"Fine." He's still pissed, I can tell. "I'll tell him he's got a chance with you. Just make sure you use a condom. I'm sure as hell not going to be there for round two, and he's so damned hot for you he wouldn't care if you had a goddamn fire burning down there, a real one."
"Mark." I can't stand how hurt he is, and I reach over to take his hand. He lets me, but I know I'd better say something right, and right now. "How come you did this?"
"You are dumb. God, baby, don't you know I've been wanting you for years now? But you've always had one guy or another sniffing around, and that left no room for me. Some of them, well, most of them were O.K., but that guy?" He snorts. "Brain dead. But you didn't see that. I got tired of waiting. Yeah, I stacked the deck. What about it?" This is something about him I love, this bravado he shows even when he's got nothing to go on. "Tell me you didn't have fun, and I won't believe you. I heard you crying out like you'd die if you didn't get off, didn't get filled."
I'm clinging to his fingers now. Mark's been carrying a torch for me since we met? That's sure what it sounds like. Hell, I thought the sex-thing was recent. I was wrong. "Tell me more, please."
"About Bruce?" I nod. "Hell, he's a good guy. I got," he shrugs, "reckless, I don't know, and gave him a call. He thought it sounded like fun, and I thought I'd like really fucking with you. You've fucked with me long enough, baby."
"I didn't mean to." I mean that. I see how things I've done must have seemed like I was teasing Mark, leading him on, then going home to the flavor of the week and getting what I wanted, and leaving him out of the loop, but I didn't mean to.
"Yeah. I know that." That's big from him. He's looking at the wall like it has some kind of message, but if it does, I don't see it. "So what now?"
At last something I'm sure of. "You got any condoms?"
It takes a moment for him to catch on. "Yeah. You need one for something?"
"If I'm going to find out what got me so hot," I'm acting casual, "I'm going to have to isolate the variables."
"I love it when you talk dirty." He's laughing. "I'm a variable?"
"You'd better believe it." I lean in to kiss him. When I'm through, we're both breathing hard. "I think we can vary some of the conditions," I want my hands free this time, "but one at least I want the same. The bed."
"Same sheets," he warns.
"I don't care."
He pulls me up when he stands. "Baby, I'm going to be your only variable from now on," he murmurs into my hair, "count on it."
He can't see me smiling, so he doesn't know that's what I've got in mind too.
The End
*****
Posted 10/26/04
