Read The Game Online

Authors: Jeanne Barrack

The Game (3 page)

“I’ll get supper on the table—such as it is.” Shari headed to the kitchen. “I wonder if there are plates or cups or utensils? Dave didn’t say.”

*

“Guess I’ll just keep the fire going.” Frank tossed some crumpled newspaper on the logs and sank back onto the rug, staring into the flames.

What the hell should he do? He had planned on sleeping on the couch, leaving the bedroom to Marcie. Now he’d have to share the same room, hell, the same bed. Despite keeping their clothes on, he knew she’d expect something more from him than simply body heat.

What the fuck should he do?

A blast of frigid air and a stream of curses announced Dave’s return to the cabin.

“What did you find? Nothing good, I can tell.”

Dave shook his head.

“That son of a bitch! He never refueled the generator. We have enough for maybe three days if we coddle it. No lights after dinner; collect water in whatever containers we find.” He paused. “Let’s get the girls, and I’ll give them the good news.”

* * * *

“Well, that’s it. As for personal hygiene,” he took a deep breath, “I hope you all brought lots of deodorant, because this place is going to get pretty rank otherwise.”

The group sat around the fire in stunned silence, taking in Dave’s words. Marcie still held the box she’d found in one of the closets on her lap. An improvised apron made from a towel hugged Shari’s waist.

Dave leaned back against the couch and bowed his head. He spoke again, his voice muffled.

“When the weather lets up, the snowplow will eventually clear the road to the cabin. The problem is, since no one is supposed to be here, we’re a low priority. We could try calling them, but the cabin phone isn’t working either.” He raised his head, impotent fury in his eyes. “The bastard was most likely pocketing the money for most of the bills.” He clenched his hands. “If I had that mother…” He loosened his fists. “We’ll get through this, I promise. It’s only a few days.”

Shari got up and brushed off her hands. “Well, I found a couple of pots under the sink, and we have one mug—minus its handle—a glass with one small chip, and one unscathed measuring cup. We’ll divvy up the crackers and dine by the romantic glow of the fire.” She chuckled. “’Cause we only have two chairs. Dave, can you help me bring things in?”

“Sure.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, Dave turned Shari around.

“Thanks.” He swiped a patch of dust from her cheek with his thumb. “You’re being a lot more forgiving than I deserve.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. It’s your Gran’s caretaker who should be strung up by his prick, naked and gnawed on by hungry wolves.”

“Whoa!” Dave’s laughter rang out. “That’s some bloodthirsty scenario you cooked up.”

“Well, I just don’t think you should feel guilty for someone else’s shitty behavior.”

Shari turned on the faucet, letting the water run into a large bowl she’d found while rummaging through the kitchen. As soon as the water got as hot as it could, she poured it into the saucepan with the condensed tomato soup. On the table was a napkin with a half sleeve of crackers and the drinking vessels she’d gathered.

“Well, it’s not Mickie D’s, but it’ll do.”

“We’ll just have to find other ways to kill the hunger pangs.” Dave leered playfully. “I can think of something else I’d like to eat.”

“And if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you.” Shari strutted ahead of him, brushing her ass against his crotch as she passed by.

With a rueful chuckle, he followed her out of the kitchen.

* * * *

“Hmmm, I never knew lukewarm canned soup could taste so good.” Marcie rubbed her stomach and licked off a few crumbs from her fingers. “What was the seasoning you put in it, Shari?”

“A dash of salt and pepper.” Shari giggled. “I plan on sending the recipe to Rachael Ray.” She glanced over to the cardboard box placed next to Marcie. “Have you opened it yet?”

Marcie turned to Dave and pushed the carton over to him. “I thought you should open it first, take a look inside. There might be some personal stuff you don’t want to share.”

“Thanks, Marcie. I doubt there’s anything private, but you never know.”

Dave slowly unfolded the tucked-in flaps. He reached in and drew out a white silken shawl. Knotted fringes decorated the edges and deep blue stripes ran down it lengthwise. A small blue six-pointed star was embroidered on each corner.

“It’s lovely,” Shari whispered. “What is it?”

“It’s a Jewish prayer shawl.” Marcie lifted up one end and let the fringes filter through her fingers.

“It’s way too small, though.” Dave smiled. “It’s mine. I haven’t seen it in almost twenty-two years. I never expected to find it here.” He glanced at the others. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Chapter 2

“Maybe finding it means my gramp’s looking out for us.” Dave took the shawl from Marcie, refolded it, and placed it on top of the pillow nearby. “I didn’t know my folks sent it back to him. I didn’t wear it much.”

“He didn’t have the time. Dave shot up the summer after he turned thirteen. Grew six inches and towered over me until I was sixteen.” Frank grinned. “He never went through an awkward stage; he morphed right into Franklin High School’s star center.” He gazed at Dave with unconcealed pride. “Didn’t the
Knicks
want to recruit you right out of school?”

Dave grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, but that wasn’t what I wanted. It was your cousin Joey who showed me what I wanted to do—become a cop.”

Shari reached over Dave’s shoulder and took out a small four-sided object.

“What’s this? It’s a top, right? Don’t Jewish kids play a game with this on Hanukah?”

Marcie chuckled. “I stopped playing with one of these when I was ten.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Now, how did it go?” She picked up the little top. “Each side is a Hebrew letter in a sentence that means…damn, I don’t remember.”


A great miracle happened there
. I was fourteen the last time I played.” He punched Frank lightly in the shoulder. “Remember? You were there with me too.”

Although Frank returned his smile, he cringed inwardly. The winter he turned fourteen was the first time he confronted his feelings for Dave.

“God, what a party! My twin cousins Rachel and Rebecca had a party for all the kids in the family. Naturally, I brought Frankie along. Couldn’t let him sit in his room studying all weekend.” His thoughts drifted. “What did we call them?”


Rack
and
Ruin
.”

Dave laughed. “Right. They came up with a whole new set of rules for a game they called ‘strip-
dreidel.
’ How did it go?” He pointed to one of the sides on the top. “The first person who spins a
gimmel
takes off three things he’s wearing and puts them in the pot. If you spin a
nun
—that’s this one—you don’t do anything and the next player spins. If you spin and you get this—a
hay
—you take half of the items in the middle and can put some clothing back on. If you spin and the top lands on the side with this fancy-looking letter—a
shin
, you have to put on one piece of apparel from the person next to you—no matter whose. You keep playing until someone is totally naked.”

Frank smiled. “We didn’t quite get to that point. Your uncle came in when I was wearing Rachel’s blouse and she just had her bra and panties on.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Man, he smacked me upside the head.”

“Yeah, me too. He thought I had come up with the idea.”

“Let’s play.” Shari sounded eager. She twirled the small wooden top in her hand.

Marcie stared at her friend. “Are you nuts?”

“Why not? It’ll be fun. It’ll help pass the time.” She cocked her head. “Why don’t we play a game every day until we get out of here?” She shrugged. “No laptop, no TV. Marcie couldn’t find any cards.” Her eyes crinkled. “No guitar for a sing-along. Why not?”

Dave nodded.

“Yeah, why not? But listen, no guilt trips later. It’s just a game.”

“Hey, I have an idea too,” Marcie said. “Let’s tweak the rules a bit. I mean, it’ll get boring if we play the same game every time. How about whoever gets naked first, gets to choose what to do with whoever they want?” Her gaze traveled to each of the others. “What do you think? Are you…game?”

Slowly, each one nodded in agreement.

* * * *

Dave looked around the little circle and grinned. The firelight cast interesting shadows on the seminaked bodies seated on the floor. Shari wore the bra and skimpy panties she’d grabbed from her suitcase before the game started—and Frank’s socks. Marcie only had on a scarlet-colored thong. The valley between her double-D breasts was deep in shadow. Her nipples were pebbled—Dave didn’t know if it was from excitement or the chill in the cabin. Frank looked the most bizarre. He had so many clothes piled on he could barely move.

And Dave had just lost his last piece of clothing. He sat cross-legged with his briefs in his lap.

“Well, bro, this was fun. I haven’t seen you in the buff since that time I came home early and you were screwing Emily in the living room.” Frankie grinned. “Pick your partner.” He chuckled. “Guess we all know whom.”

Dave rose and dropped his jock. He had no shame in his body. He kept it trim. As for showing Marcie and Frank his naked penis—hell, he was sure it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. He reached down and helped Shari get to her feet.

“We’ll see you guys in the morning. Have a good night.”

Two pairs of eyes silently followed the smooth play of the muscles in Dave’s butt as he and Shari left the living room.

“Damn, he’s got one fine ass.” Marcie sighed with greedy hunger. “I could just eat him up. Lucky Shari.”

“Yeah,” Frank breathed. “Lucky.”

“Let’s go to bed.” Marcie turned and sashayed toward the second bedroom. She stopped, looked back, and placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you coming?” She cupped her breasts, squeezed the nipples and winked. “Or are you not excited yet?”

Despite his feelings, Frank smiled. “Getting there, babe, getting there.”

* * * *

Dave stalked over to Shari and grabbed her by the waist. “Well, that was fun.” He chuckled. “Marcie is really stacked.”

Shari pushed him away and turned her back on him, giving him a close-up view of her heart-shaped ass. “Why don’t you go and join them in a three-way?”

He took a step forward, cupped her behind with one hand and squeezed. “Babe, you’re more than enough for me.” He thrust his cock against the seam between her cheeks, seeking entry. “Christ, you drive me crazy.” He reached around and fondled her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples. “I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned and nipped her neck, his breath hot on her skin. “I want to devour you.”

Shari shuddered as lust coursed through her. She needed to push Dave over the edge. “Take me to bed. Now.”

He bent, lifted her in his arms and carried her to the old-fashioned four-poster, dropping her onto the mattress, and looked down at her. “Babe, I’m going to fuck you so hard, your screaming will bring down an avalanche.”

“Promise?”

“Bet your ass.”

Dave kneeled on the bed and unsnapped Shari’s bra, tossing it to the floor. Her nipples were hard and pointy and so very rosy. He smiled. She was as tasty as the sweet jam-filled doughnuts his grandmother used to make for Hanukah. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny, babe?”

“I guess talking about my grandparents made me think of them. They were incredible. They went through a lot before coming to America. Man, could my grandmother cook! She used to make these really sticky, raspberry-filled doughnuts for the holiday.” He grinned. “Seeing you lying there…well, you reminded me of those doughnuts.” He pounced on her. “Filled with sticky sweetness.”

“Then you better get your mouth going if you want a taste of my…sticky sweetness.”

The flimsy pink thong hardly covered her pussy. He paused and admired the tiny pink bows at each hip and a smile flickered across his face.

“Good thing you brought tear-away panties, babe. How should I untie them? With my fingers or my mouth?”

Shari laughed.

“I don’t think even your mouth is that talented. Use your fingers—and hurry!”

He fumbled at the bows, his fingers clumsy in their haste to unwrap her. “Fuck it!”

And he ripped off the material, burying his face between her thighs. He gripped her hips, raising her up, and inhaled her arousing fragrance. His tongue darted out, delving deep between the plump lips of her sex.

She groaned and arched against him letting him know how much she loved what he did to her.

“Bite me, please, please, baby, please. Hard. Hurt me.”

She gripped his hair, tangling her fingers in his thick waves, pulling at the strands.

He nipped her thigh, answering her demands, then sucked at her mound before biting down hard enough to leave the imprint of his teeth on her clit.

Lately their screwing had become more and more rough. He thought perhaps Shari sensed that he needed the harsh release after a day of dealing with murderers and human garbage.

She never told him to ease up or demurred when he held her so tightly he left marks on her pale skin. She urged him on, like now.

“Oh, God, you’re so good. Fuck me, darling. Do it now.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. The moonlight streaming into the room revealed the sweat on her body, her distended nipples, her flushed face, and her undulating body. Her shuttered eyes shielded her thoughts from him, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize how much she was turned on.

He rose to his knees, lifted her, and, inch by inch, worked his thick length into her. When he was seated to the hilt, he moved, slowly at first then harder and faster until the bed shook and her moans grew almost loud enough to drown out the creaking of the old iron bed frame.

Her scream when she came threw him over the edge and he poured his release into her, collapsing on her slick body, before rolling off and drawing her into his arms.

“Did you taste the sweetness?” she managed to gasp out.

“Oh, yeah. Better than Gran’s doughnuts any day.”

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