Even Odds (9 page)

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Authors: Elia Winters

BOOK: Even Odds
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When Isabel kissed him,
Caleb froze for a moment, so taken aback that he didn't even return her kiss. Then the surprise passed, because fuck, her mouth was hot and sweet and he couldn't help dragging her closer with his hand on the back of her neck. He backed her up against the wall and slanted his head to kiss her more deeply, his hand skimming down her side and over the curve of her ass.

A wolf whistle from down the hall brought him back to reality. He pulled back, the sounds of distant laughter and applause becoming louder as the fog in his head cleared. The group of cosplayers was hooting and hollering at them, but he had eyes only for Isabel. She was flushed, her breasts rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, and her swollen lips begged for him to kiss her again. Still, they were in the middle of the convention center, and Isabel had seemed much shier the night before. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I think . . . um, there's a bathroom down the hall here.” She smiled, her expression simultaneously shy and mischievous, but still much bolder than he'd seen her.

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yeah. If you're game.” She licked her lips, mirroring his actions from earlier. “Are you game?”

Caleb smiled. “Isabel Suarez, you are full of surprises.” At that, she smiled, grabbed his hand, and pulled him down the hall.

The convention center seemed determined to thwart their plans, though, because every bathroom on that floor was a multistall, privacy-free arrangement. Why wasn't there a good single-stall, handicap-accessible bathroom anywhere? After trying three, staying as far away from the cosplayers as possible, Isabel stopped in front of another unsuccessful door and sighed.

“I have an idea.” He'd spent a lot of time browsing the DiceCon app on his phone, and it had a complete map of all the rooms being used for the convention. Surely some of these small rooms were open and unused. When he reached the end of the hall, he spotted a door with no number on it. Maybe a broom closet, maybe something more, but it wasn't on the main map. He tested the handle and pulled the door open. “Bingo.”

The room was some kind of lounge, from the looks of it. There were two couches and a pair of chairs, a coffee table, and a side table with a pitcher of ice water and a few glasses. There were no other doors aside from the one they were holding open.

“What's this place?” Isabel looked from the door to Caleb.

“Who cares? It's not on the map.” Caleb pulled her inside and closed the door behind them.

Isabel bit her lip. “This door doesn't lock.” She opened it to make sure, examining the side. “There isn't even one of those little push-button locks on the side.” She let it fall closed again and turned to face Caleb, uncertainty written all over her expression.

“This is your call. If you're up for this, I'm up for this.” Caleb dropped his swag bag on the ground next to him and sat down on the couch that faced the door, sprawling out with his feet up on the coffee table, arms stretched over the back of the sofa. He'd had sex in enough risky places that this didn't bother him; in fact, it was exciting. “You coming over here?”

Isabel hesitated only a moment before she tossed her bag down next to his. Then she was back in his arms again, kissing him like they'd never stopped. He slid his hands up under her shirt and over the soft skin of her back, tracing his fingertips down her spine. She shivered and pressed closer, already tugging at the button at the top of his jeans.

When she started to lower his zipper, Caleb stopped her hand. “I don't have a condom.” Shit. He should have carried one with him.

Isabel brushed his hand away and continued lowering his zipper, freeing his cock. Caleb felt the sweet pressure of her hand around him, squeezing his shaft where it pushed through the opening in his boxers. “What about my hand?” she asked. “Is this okay?”

He nodded, because turning down a hand job was nowhere in his vocabulary. “Y-yeah. That's . . .” She rubbed her thumb across the wetness gathering at the tip and his eyes closed involuntarily, heart beginning to race. “That's better than okay.”

Isabel started working him over steadily, and her dexterous fingers were absolutely perfect. “I can't believe we're doing this.” Her voice sounded breathy with excitement. He forced his eyes open to watch her face and her single-minded focus on his cock. “Doing this where anyone could walk in? I didn't think I'd like this, but oh my god.” Reaching down with her other hand, she cupped his sac, focusing her other on the tip of his shaft.

“Fuck yes, you're doing great.” It felt incredible, and Caleb didn't want her to stop. He couldn't keep his head from lolling back against the couch, his hips thrusting up against her hands. “Rub the tip. Just—just like that. Yeah. God, your hands are amazing.”

“All these years of playing piano.” He could hear her smiling, even though he wasn't looking at her, his eyes closed tight.

“Whatever it is, damn . . . Oh, yes, right there.” With Isabel's attentions focused on that perfect spot on his cock, Caleb knew it wouldn't take long, could already feel his orgasm building, pleasure pooling in his gut. He dug his hands into the couch cushions, his movements getting more erratic and less controlled as she understood and began working him faster, harder, almost too hard but
perfect
.

He wanted to give her some kind of warning, but before he could say anything he was coming all over her hands and his stomach, shuddering through his orgasm. She coaxed every bit out of him, her hands still working on him as he spent himself. At last he sighed, body going limp as his cock softened. “Fuck. I wasn't expecting that.”

“What did you think was going to happen?” Isabel grinned as she grabbed some tissues out of the box on the coffee table and wiped her hands. Caleb took care of the rest of the cleanup, his body sated and warm, sleepy with spent pleasure. He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, giving her a contented smile before pulling her closer for a kiss. The kiss was lazy, but he could feel her arousal in the shifting of her body against him, the restless twitching of her fingers on his shoulders. When he cupped her breast, she pushed herself more firmly into his hand.

“Feels like someone needs some turnabout.” He slipped his other hand down to her jeans and began unfastening the buttons. No one could ever say Caleb was a selfish lover.

Isabel watched Caleb unbutton her jeans with her mouth agape.

“What, did you think I was just going to leave you hanging?” He unfastened the last button.

“But guys are easy!” Isabel protested, laughing even as she lifted her hips. “You have to pull my pants down to even get at anything, and oh god, you're pulling my pants down . . .” Her voice trailed off as Caleb slid her jeans down to her knees, tugging her underwear down as well, baring her enough that he could slide a hand between her thighs and zero in on her clit. Isabel squeaked, covering her mouth with her hand to keep herself from making any noise even as she pushed up into his touch. Her jeans kept her legs close together, so she couldn't wiggle very much, but she definitely squirmed as he reached farther back and slid two fingers into her pussy. She was so wet, and he wished it was his cock in her, but this was almost as good. He curled his fingers up, aiming for her G-spot, and she moaned into her hand as she dug her nails into the back of his shirt.

“Is this good?” He found her clit with his thumb.

Isabel kept her mouth covered but nodded, her eyes wide with surprise and dark with arousal. Caleb didn't know if he could get her off like this, his hand clumsy with their limited position, but he was certainly going to try. He could feel her muscles fluttering every few seconds, clenching hold of his fingers, and her legs began to tense where they were pinned beneath him. He wanted to see her fall apart just like this, with just his hand bringing her there, but a sudden sound brought him back to reality just in time.

“Someone's coming.” He sat back and tugged at Isabel's jeans, trying to restore her dignity. She took a moment to catch on, still glassy-eyed with a near orgasm, but managed to pull her jeans up over her hips just before the door handle turned. Caleb tossed her a magazine from the table and quickly grabbed one for himself.

To someone just walking in, they were sitting on the couch a respectable distance apart, both reading magazines. They both looked up as the door opened, revealing a middle-aged man wearing a polo with the convention center logo. He saw them and paused, eyes going wide.

“Um, hi. I didn't know someone was using this room.” He looked from one to the other, obviously taken aback to see the room occupied.

Caleb had enough presence of mind to lie. “Yeah, they told us we could hang out in here before the midnight panel in A114. We're on setup and they aren't ready for us yet.”

“Oh. Right.” The man glanced around the room. If he looked too closely, he'd see that Isabel's pants were unbuttoned.

But he didn't look that closely. He just nodded. “Sorry to disturb you. Let me know if you need anything, all right? My office is just at the other end of the hall.”

“Sure. Thanks. Have a good night.” Isabel managed to smile calmly, which Caleb didn't think he could manage if he'd been stopped so close to orgasm.

The man shut the door behind him, and within a moment, Caleb was back on top of Isabel, tugging her jeans down again, magazines thrown aside. Isabel helped with shaking, eager hands, moving her clothes enough so he could get his hand between her thighs again. She gasped her approval and pushed against him. “Yes, fuck, yes.” Her timidity was gone, replaced by a desperation he could see in her eyes and feel in her trembling muscles. He rubbed her clit harder and faster than before, curling his fingers inside her, watching as she went to pieces beneath him.

Isabel arched up off the armrest as she came, burying her face in his neck to stifle her cries. Caleb worked her through her orgasm as she shivered and convulsed. He felt his spent cock twitch seeing her in her ecstasy and feeling her spasm around his fingers. He loved this, every moment of it. He kept rubbing her until at last she collapsed, her body going slack. Caleb slid his hand free and sucked her wetness from his fingers. He wanted more of this, all of this: her orgasm, her taste, her attention. He wanted to see this expression on her face every day.

Damn, he needed to put that out of his head immediately. After this weekend, he was never going to see her again. While he'd had similar flings in the past, the thought of Isabel leaving his life entirely felt like a bucket of ice water chilling him even as Isabel gave him a contented smile.

She got to her feet and stretched. “That was fun. I can't believe tomorrow is Saturday already. The convention is half over! Time flies, I guess.”

Whatever feelings he was having for her, they were clearly not reciprocated. Isabel looked cheerful and at ease, unconcerned at the thought of the impending end to their time together. He tried to return her smile, but it felt forced.

“You okay?” Her eyebrows drew together in concern.

Caleb shrugged. “Yeah, just thinking about how quickly this whole thing is going to be over.” He wasn't sure if he meant the convention, or whatever this thing was with Isabel. He told himself it was both, even as his mind veered toward the latter.

“Maybe we can get together again before I head home.” She looked hopeful and grabbed a pad of convention center stationery off the coffee table. “I could give you my number.”

“I . . . oh yeah, of course. I'd like that.” That was an understatement. He'd love to see her again, and when she handed him her number, he tucked it carefully into his pocket. Somewhere between last night and tonight, he'd started to fall for this enigmatic gamer girl from Florida, even though he knew that path would lead only to heartbreak.

Although it was after
midnight when she got back to the hotel room, it was also Friday night, so there was a pretty good chance Matthew would still be awake if he wasn't at some club. Isabel didn't feel like being alone with her thoughts and hoped he was in the hotel. Fooling around with Caleb had been hot, but she'd felt some sort of weird vibe between them at the end, an impulse to ask him to spend the night with her or just stay with her a little longer. She'd tried to play it off by being ultra casual, but maybe she'd overcompensated. This wasn't supposed to happen. Getting emotionally attached was a terrible idea. She needed some hang-out time with a good friend, and Matthew was always good for a laugh. Stopping in front of his door, she leaned closer and listened. Sure enough, she could hear his loud, booming laugh through the sound-muffling door, and so she knocked. Hopefully he wasn't in there with a date.

The door swung open. Matthew had a red Solo cup in one hand and the bleary-eyed look of someone who had refilled that cup a number of times. He smiled at her with all the warmth that had grown between them in their years of casual friendship, holding the heavy door open for her. “Hey! Dan and I were just having a drink. Come on in.”

He had filled one of the double sinks in the bathroom vanity with ice and far too many bottles of alcohol. Also, a sleeve of red Solo cups was sitting open next to them. The room was a little messier than when she'd last seen it, too, with a collection of convention swag covering almost every surface.

“Holy shit.” She surveyed their homemade ice chest and collection of alcohol. “You know there's a fridge, right?”

“Fridge is full of beer.” Dan waved his beer in response. He was sprawled out on Matthew's couch and was probably equally drunk. “How'd the tournament go?”

“Fourth place!” She raised both hands in triumph. “Best I've ever done.”

“Wow, congratulations. That's pretty good. I mean really good.” Matthew sipped from his cup before setting it down. “You want something? I'm making things.”

“What've you got?” She glanced at the bathroom vanity, identifying all the familiar brands on the parts of bottles she could see.

“What do you want?” Matthew moved past her to the sink and began poking around. “I'm drinking Irish Trash Cans.”

Isabel made a face. She'd had that concoction of Red Bull and about a hundred different types of liquor, and was not interested. “How about Jack and Coke?”

Even drunk, Matthew mixed a wonderful drink. Not that a Jack and Coke required any particular kind of skill, since it was only two liquids, but Isabel knew from experience that he could mix anything with the same finesse. He used to bartend in college and apparently still picked up shifts now and then. He handed her a cup and topped off his drink with the rest of an open can of Red Bull.

“So is Lloyd the reigning champion of the DiceCon Scavenger Hunt?” Dan kicked his socked feet up onto the coffee table. “I heard he has fifty points.”

Isabel flopped onto the bed and pulled the folded scavenger hunt list out of her pocket. She scanned the various items. She really needed to get some of those one-point items on her list the next day; they were pretty easy overall. She'd already been introducing herself to new people, but that one wasn't much of a stretch. Totaling up her accomplishments so far, she raised her head with a grin and folded the paper up to stick back in her pocket. “Not anymore. With fifty-five points, I am the current champion. Start saving up for my first-class upgrade, boys.”

“Fuck you,” Dan said without malice, throwing the box of tissues at her from the table. “I can't believe I struck out tonight, even with all my mad moves.” At Isabel's raised eyebrows, he managed an indignant glare somewhat tempered by his drunkenness. “Don't give me that look. I can
dance.
Panties just fall off when I'm around.”

“Except tonight,” Matthew added, smirking into his cup.

“There's still time.” Isabel plopped back against the pillows on Matthew's bed.

Matthew chimed in. “My evening was a bust, so I think I'm screwed either way. That's why I'm getting drunk.” He sat at the foot of his bed and shoved Isabel's feet off to the side. “So how'd you earn another fifteen points so fast? More sex with your new con boyfriend?”

She normally wouldn't tell anyone, but Lloyd wasn't there, and the other two were unlikely to judge her. “We found an empty lounge in the convention center after tonight's tournament.” She felt giddy with impropriety.

“Look at you. I don't believe it.” Dan shook his head. “We never should have let you play. Fucking great weekend to lose all your neuroses and inhibitions and find some guy to fuck all over the place.” He finished his beer and got up to root around in the fridge for another one.

“I can't believe you can be this drunk and still use the word ‘neuroses' in a sentence.” Matthew sipped from his Irish Trash Can. “You want something else, Dan?”

“Nah. I'll just stick with beer.” Dan pulled one out of the fridge and sat back down on the couch.

“You got this drunk off beer?” Isabel shook her head. The amount of whiskey in the Jack and Coke was loosening her up, smoothing her rough edges, and she felt incredibly light, as if she could just float up off the bed.

“No, I did not get this drunk off beer. I had two of those fucking Trash Cans before I started in on the beer, and it's not like I've had anything to eat in the last four hours or anything. Except these Cheetos.” Dan pulled a handful of the orange snacks out of the bag.

“And the can of Pringles. And the three packages of cheese and crackers.” Matthew swung his arm wide, gesturing to the invisible food Dan had eaten.

“Geek life. Keepin' it real.” Dan popped the top off the beer and took a long swig. “This stuff tastes like piss. I'm not sure why I'm drinking it.” He took another long swig. “Anyway, I'm happy for you, Isabel, even though I'm giving you shit. If I can't win, my only rule is that I don't want Lloyd to. You want us to brag about all your sexual exploits to Lloyd and get you a new reputation?”

“Hell no.” Isabel shook her head. “The specifics are just between us.”

“When he hears your point totals, he's gonna know you're sleeping with somebody.” Matthew rubbed his bald head. “Maybe it'll be a good thing.”

Isabel finished her drink, the ice sliding down into her face as she swallowed the last of it. She looked into the empty cup. A change in her reputation would
not
be an improvement, even if Matthew thought so. It would be one thing if she were dating someone seriously. But to make it known that she'd turned DiceCon into her own little sexual playground? That would completely undermine her professional reputation at PI Games, a mistake she wasn't going to make again.

“You want another?”

Isabel looked up at the sound of Matthew's voice, confused at his question, until she realized she had been staring down into her empty cup. Matthew reached out for her cup, and she handed it over. “Okay, but just this one more.” She watched him open the bottle of Coke. “And, Matthew, you should ease up. You've got to open the booth tomorrow.” She rested her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, just for a moment. She wasn't tired, still feeling too wired to sleep, but all her emotions felt overwhelming.

“Ugh, don't remind me. Whoever made the expo hall open at nine has obviously never actually worked a con.” Matthew jolted her back to reality by pressing her refilled cup back into her hand. “I'm hoping the Red Bull from the Trash Cans will help me feel alert in the morning.”

“I'm just hoping you aren't still drunk in the morning.” Dan raised an eyebrow at Matthew. “Lloyd would bring that shit right back to HR, and Iris would have your ass.”

“Don't worry. I'm a professional. And I still have . . .” Matthew looked at his watch. “I have eight hours before I have to be awake again. That's more sleep than I get on a normal weeknight.”

Isabel was just buzzed enough to interrupt with something completely off topic. “Guys, I really like Caleb.”

“Well I'd hope so; you've been fucking him for two days.” Matthew flopped down onto the bed near her and reached out to slap the sole of her foot, but in his inebriated state, he missed and barely grazed her heel with his fingertips.

“Sort of. I don't know if today counts as actual fucking.” Isabel studied the red Solo cup, traced the little ridges around it with her hand, drawing a dark line in the filmy condensation gathering on the plastic. “But it's more than that. Like, I really like him. He's nice. I kind of feel bad about doing all this shit for the scavenger hunt. Maybe I should tell him.”

Dan raised his beer in a salute. “Yes! Tell him. You go and tell him. And then you forfeit and you can pay for my first-class upgrade. I will come from behind somehow and push Lloyd out and be victorious.”

“It's not really a big deal, Isabel. Guys do this kind of thing all the time.” Matthew patted her ankle with a clumsy paw, aiming better this time and actually making contact. “And girls probably do, too. It's not like you're actually leading him on, right? He knows you live in Tampa. It's not like he's going to just show up at your job or apartment or something.”

“Yeah. That's right.” She drank another two swallows, the whiskey making her shoulders and hips feel tingly and warm, the buzz pleasant. “It's just my anxiety acting up again, I guess.”

“That's the spirit.” Matthew clinked his plastic cup against hers, which didn't clink at all, instead making a plastic thwunking noise, then he rambled off into analyzing some of the games that had been out on the floor earlier today. But Isabel had already stopped listening. Tonight wasn't going to be the last time between her and Caleb, for sure. But maybe tomorrow would be.

She felt a twinge go through her, the same twinges she'd been feeling the last couple of days, unrelated to any actual body part. After this weekend, she wouldn't see Caleb anymore, and for whatever it was worth, the thought made her feel something close to terrible.

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