A game

A game
Myra watched Nova chatter, hurtling on like a train the whole dinner, and even as she gave her a bath. 

She nodded, listened intently but with a puzzled frown on her face because she could not remember Nova speaking so much in the past.

Except a few times, like the day Cal finally woke up from his coma. 

She left the little girl’s room now and decided to stop for a glass of milk in the kitchen before she finally retired.

But Ms Doe was in the kitchen, apparently prepping some items for tomorrow’s lunch.

“Ms Doe,” Myra called gently with a smile. 

She had not had a chance to speak with the woman since she returned and was eager to catch up.

But when she turned around, her face was enough to jog Myra’s memory to remember that they were not exactly on good terms when they parted.

The woman stared at her with a bored expression for a second too long before she nodded, and asked with a flat voice, “Is there anything you would like from YOUR kitchen?”

“What?” Myra half gasped, and half laughed in disbelief, but then she heard Cal’s voice behind her.

“Darling?” 

She spun around, and his eyes settled her, and calmed her nerves. 

He stretched his hand out, and she easily placed hers in his.

“Good night, Ms Doe,” he said.

And like some magic, the woman was transformed.

She gave her Cal her full smile that Myra knew she favored everybody with. The sweet smile the woman used to give her before Cal’s accident. 

As they walked up the stairs now, she felt him squeeze her ass from behind, and she gasped, turning to him with wide eyes.

“Cal.” She called, and looked back downstairs, but they had taken the curve on the stairs and were out of Ms Doe’s sight. 

But still, anyone could have been there, the nanny, Nico.

“Since when did you get like this?” She stared at the former gentleman in disbelief.

“Since I had to share you with my daughter,” and he swooped her off her feet, settling her in his arms. 

“Cal,” she gasped, laughing and quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth. 

As he walked quickly down the hallway to his bedroom, her eyes did not miss that he had taken away all his late wife’s picture.

The only room in the house that still had Cassie’s picture hanging off the wall was Nova’s.

“Jealous much?” She asked as he kicked his bedroom door open, and walked in. “Did you have to stew the whole time while Nova hugged me and wouldn’t let me go?”

She was laughing now, becoming more and more amused as he placed her feet on the floor again. 

He simply watched her with a small smile, as she laughed and laughed.

“I like that you find this so funny.”

This made her laugh even harder, although she really wanted to stop. Her poor Cal.

“Maintain this energy, tonight.” He finally closed in on her, and her amusement died immediately at his tone. 

His eyes burned as she felt one of his fingers tug a button on her shirt loose, and then the next and next.

That was as many buttons as the shirt had. 

She would have to pull it over her head. 

She was bringing her hand to her waist, to untuck the shirt from the shirt when Cal, maintaining eye contact, darted his tongue out and licked her nipple through her shirt.

Her eyes widened as she gasped. 

She had never felt anything so electric.

“Been staring at those all night.” he stood straight again with a straight face, like he had not just done THAT.

She could only just stare at him. 

Who exchanged her sweet, sweet Cal with this stranger. 

This one who knew to lick a nipple through a shirt because he knew she had no bra on, because he was staring at her boobs the whole evening.

But maybe he was not a stranger.

Maybe he had always been there somewhere, because she remembered the man that cornered her in the faculty elevator at Ciaran. The one who intimidated her during all those car rides. The one who pressed her face against the wall at Ourania.

She inhaled, her breath hitching at all these sudden memories. 

He was still staring at her, and she suddenly felt daring.

If he wanted to play, they could. 

She crossed her hands and grabbed the hem of her shirt, and pulled it over her head, and her breasts bounced free. 

Cal inhaled sharply at the sight, his eyes burning hotter.

Her eyes strayed down and caught him bunching up his hands in a fist beside him.

“Are you going to just stare?” She cocked an eyebrow arrogantly.

“Take the skirt off.” His voice came out hoarse and clogged with emotions. 

One side of her lips lifted in a smile. 

Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly let down the zipper at the back and her skirt fell.

Then she stepped out of it still in heels. 

He closed his eyes briefly to inhale and when he opened them again, they were shiny, his amber eyes glowing like some natural torch.

“I’ll join you in the bathroom.” His eyes were glued to the only spot of her thong that had enough fabric, the spot where the dark blue cotton fabric covered her pussy snuggly.

“OK.” She smiled teasingly at him and walked away, only taking her heels off just outside the bathroom.

She knew now that the man was up to something. 

But she would not give him the pleasure of her asking. 

She finally heard him walk in behind her as she stood under the steaming shower, running her hand over her hair.

When she did not feel his hands on her, or his arms around her, she turned around, watching him through the steady stream of steaming water. 

He just stood there, watching her. 

She furrowed her brows at him. She had an idea what he was up to now, teasing. 

He wanted to tease her without even touching her.

Keep her on the edge, wanting and waiting with burning looks, distant even when he was so close.

She was slightly panting now as she watched him, staring at his naked body with all his muscles standing out, at the way those muscles tapered finely across all sections of his body, like a sculptor had sat down to chisel his body parts into place, then carefully went over each angle with a careful object to make sure they were not jutting out, but had a hint of a curve that was perfection.

She looked back up at his eyes now, feeling raw need. 

But she knew his game, and he was not going to make her beg. 

She let her hands move down from her head, slowly caressing her skin as they went down her face, massaged her shoulders outward, and back, and then let her fingers run down till she was cupping her breasts in both hands.

As he stared at her, she squeezed. 

She saw him get so hard at that, and she finally let the moan fall out of her slightly parted lips. 

His temple began to beat, and she knew he was struggling.