“Wait, n—no, Lukas, I ca-can’t… Lukas!”
“Elena…”
She comes fiercely, screaming softly into the nearest pillow… and I thrust into her the entire way through.
She falls forward into my hands and I catch her, using my fingers to pull gently at the pinkish, taut peaks atop her incredible tits.
With my hands on her breasts and my lips on her lower back, I come inside of Elena, feeling completely depleted from the height of this immeasurable pleasure.
We collapse together on top of the cool satin sheets and I lay with her body fitting closely next to mine, relishing in the feel of her slightly damp skin.
I run my fingers up the side of her shimmering body, brushing aside her hair to place my lips at her nape. And when I do, she turns slowly towards me, revealing a tear-streaked face, full of wonder.
Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are glistening.
And she has never looked more gorgeous.
I wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, tasting the salty remnants on her lips with my kiss. I withdraw slowly.
“See? I told you that you were a crier.”
***
When dawn breaks, I am out of the hotel room and heading into the parking lot.
A wave of guilt hits me as I walk, but it is buried by all of the other things that I feel…
The adrenaline, the fatigue—the satisfaction…
Elena and I never made it back to the party.
We fucked each other until the sun came up, taking turns riding the other until we were too exhausted to move—our limbs splayed out against the sprawling expanse of the King-sized bed.
The only reason I’m even heading to my car is to retrieve my last condom, so that we can send each other off with a proper farewell… and then forget this ever happened.
I retrieve the keys and car remote from my pants pocket, smiling. Elena is still gloriously naked in my hotel room, and I’m going to enjoy every bit of this good-bye.
But when I hit the automatic car key from far-off, something sounds wrong. Something is wrong.
Under the cover of the barely-breaking dawn, I can just make out the flicker of lights from a nearby car. I look toward the lights, but what I see is not my black Porsche.
In fact, I’m not sure that it’s even a car…
I hit the car remote again, and a beep sounds from the pile of trash at the end of the lot. I stiffen… before breaking out into a full sprint toward it.
The spring air is chilled this time of day, slapping briskly against my bare chest where my shirt lays unbuttoned. My barely-fastened pants are sliding at my waist. My untied shoes are slipping off my feet.
I hardly notice.
That pile of trash is my car.
I run up to the black heap, discovering that my black Porshe has almost been demolished, the windshield and all of its side windows shattered, rendering the vehicle unrecognizable.
It looks like it’s been in a horrible accident. But it hasn’t… because it’s been here in the parking deck all night.
This is no accident.
Someone’s destroyed my car. And they did it right under my nose.
I grasp my hair with both hands, sliding them down to scrub exasperated hands at my cheeks. I can’t believe this shit.
And there’s another thing that’s right under my nose—a piece of paper sticking precariously from underneath a broken windshield wiper.
I reach carefully for the piece of paper, reading the text written on its surface. I start to grip the note so tightly that it rips in my hands.
Looks like you got fucked twice in one night. Enjoy it while you can.
Pawn to B3. Your move.
I flip the note over, searching for text on its back. I find nothing else. I squint at the message on the front again.
A chess reference… like it’s some sort of game. Fucking up my car—a game.
And how they know that I’ve been with Elena last night is even more alarming.
Beautiful, feisty, sexy Elena—all alone, sleeping in my bed, while somebody does a “Monster Truck rally” on one of my most prized possessions.
It was a calculated move, one designed to send a clear message: Someone is watching me, and somehow I’ve been playing blindly.
A match has just begun and already, they’ve got the upper hand.
I glance at what used to be my car, crumpling the note and throwing it to the ground. I grow resolved.
Irrational… but resolved.
If this psycho wants to play games, then that’s what we’re going to do. They picked the wrong chess piece to fuck with.
I didn’t start this game… but I sure as hell am going to finish it.
To the Readers:
I really hope you enjoyed Round 1 of the Games & Diversions Series. As you now know, this is only the beginning…
Round 2, Hour by Hour, begins December 1st, 2015….
If you’d like a look at my other books on Amazon or Goodreads, please feel free to stop by! Please feel free to leave a review while you’re there, too!
If you’d like to chat me up any time, g’head and e-mail me at nataliewrites@nataliewrye.com OR leave a comment on NatalieWrye.com OR on my Facebook .
More on Hour by Hour: Round 2 on the next page….
**ROUND 2 in the Games & Diversions series**
My head says, “Fuck him.”
My clit says, “Go ahead!”
I gave in to him, submitted myself to our fiery passion… and it blew up in my face.
I can’t afford to do this again—not when he holds all the cards. Not when he makes all the rules.
He’s lured me into a game—a game I’ve never played.
A dangerous one.
And if I raise the stakes and place another bet on him, will he burn me again?
Acknowledgements
I’m going to keep it simple this time and not ramble on like I love to do.
To my family and the people I love most…
To the readers and bloggers and fellow book-lovers…
To every person who has believed in me…
I, as well as this series, wouldn’t be the same without you.
I love you with everything in me.
More about the Author
Natalie E. Wrye is a math geek by day, writer by night. She is a quirky, former Yankee living in Northwest Georgia with nothing but her Friends and Gilmore Girls reruns to keep her company.
Natalie started writing nonsensical stories at the ripe age of 6; she hopes things have changed since then. She loves chocolate, cuddly things, and large libraries. Oh...and she thinks it's pretty cool to talk in 3rd person.