GAME ON - GoM 2

5

George hit the gas down the road by the lake, feeling anger build up inside him. About a week ago, Markus had warned him about troubles to open the complex in time. Mayor Dickinson had called Blake to let him know about it. Apparently, some green activists from Seattle had gotten in touch with Father Jason, asking about the touristic project. And now the church and the activists were trying to shut it down completely, arguing about the project's environmental impact on the area, being so close to another touristic spot like Boulder Creek public campground.

And that night, Markus got word of some kind of meeting taking place at the church, to recruit local supporters against the project. So George drove by to take a look, on his way to Markus'. And he'd seen it with his own eyes. That Father Jason jerk and another priest—surely from Seattle. But he'd never expected finding Alex there. Yet there she was, with Claire and that sullen lapdog she called her boyfriend. All of them there, plotting to screw up what he'd been working on so hard over the last year.

He had a future with Blake. He could make one fine career working for him. He wouldn't let them get in the way. Especially not Alex.

George snorted.

That bitch! Who the hell did she think she was? First she'd played him for months, letting him believe she had some kind of feeling for him. To send him packing over a summer one-night stand the first time she'd left town in years. And now this. How come she thought she had a right to mess with his job?

The party was at its prime at Markus' when George got there. Ever since Alice left to Seattle, his friend got used to threw these noisy get-togethers every couple of day, inviting young people from out of town.

Markus led him to the kitchen, where Blake's techs waited for him. George told them what he'd seen at the church, and they were commenting about it when Marla joined. George didn't know much about her. She was in Blake's payroll, like all of them, but that was all he knew. As if he were interested in her story anyway. He already knew the main thing he cared about: if she was there, he'd have a chance to hake his mood off. As to prove him right, she put a glass of cold champagne in his hand and stood by his side, close enough to brush her breasts against his arm.

The other three didn't linger around. A couple of minutes later they headed to the living room to join the party. As soon as they walked out, Marla put her arm around George's shoulders and flashed a promising smile. He gulped up the champagne and rounded her waist to bring her against his hips. She sank her face in the gap of his neck, pulling a grunt out of his lips.

He threw back his head, letting her do. Marla wasn't only hot as hell. She also didn't give a damn about who might be around. And she was always willing and ready for some action. She was addictive. So there was no way George would refuse when she gave him the champagne bottle and took his hand.

George didn't pay attention to where she was leading him. They navigated the crowded living room and up the stairs. As soon as they reached the second floor, she slammed him against the hall wall and stuck to him, kissing him deep. He kissed her back, his hands moving all over her, his breath thickening in need.

They stumbled into a room, their clothes launched away in all directions. Apparently, the place was a bedroom, since there was a bed in there. Marla dragged George to it and he just dived into that haze of heat and pleasure, not caring about being gentle, still so mad at finding Alex plotting against him.

For a moment he saw her again outside the church, staring at him in surprise. It seemed to fuel his anger anew. He ripped off what clothes Marla was still wearing, pushed her legs apart and thrust into her. But it was no use. He didn't want it to be Marla. It wasn't her face he wanted to see as she moaned and squirmed beneath him. So he made her roll over, pressed her to the mattress and entered her body again. He gripped her shoulders to keep her in place and still, her dark hair spread over her back. And now it was almost real, so he closed his eyes. Now it almost felt as if it were Alex there with him. So he thrust inside her, faster, harder, deeper, to not feel the cold welling in his chest ever since she'd left him. He kept her face to the comforter to muffle her voice, and keep the illusion from falling to pieces.

* * *

He didn't remember how he'd gotten there. Through a piercing migraine, he recalled drinking and bouncing all over the room, having sex with Marla again and again and again. He thought he also recalled a champagne glass shattering in Marla's hand. They'd laughed about it and she'd made him kiss the small cut on her fingertip.

At some moment the door had opened. Markus had stumbled in with two women, laughing out loud.

Now he lay naked on a huge bed, with Marla and another woman sleeping at his sides. Markus' arm showed from behind Marla, around her waist. Marla's hand rested on George's belly and he was holding the other woman. Their legs were too entangled to tell them apart.

George covered his eyes with his spare arm, shielding them from daylight. The sun shone bright outside the window opening to the lake. Any move fed the hangover headache, so he closed his eyes and lay still, waiting for it to recede.