Game of Chance
Chapter 4
Marshall and Curtis talked mostly business for forty minutes over a leisurely breakfast; Contessa merely smiled softly and listened attentively to their conversation.
“Well, I gotta head down town for some shit—catch you two later. Hey, Contessa?”
“Yeah?”
“If you ever get tired of Marsh, I’m still here!” he laughed and walked away feeling Marshall’s eyes shooting daggers at his back.
The musical sound of her feminine laughter filtered through the air with Curtis’, and a bemused smile played upon her lips at the scowl the blonde wore.
//
He propped himself up with his arm and looked pensively at her.
“Tell me about yourself,” he prompted. “I don’t know nothin’ about you…”
“There’s not much to know,” she shrugged and rolled to face him.
“C’mon,” he urged.
“Let’s see,” she replied thoughtfully. “I’m Contessa Maria Summers. I have two older brothers…” she trailed off.
“How old are you?”
She gasped humorously. “A woman never tells her age!”
“Promise me you’re legal?” he teased.
“Old enough to drink!”
“Good enough for me,” he nodded.
“Twenty-two.”
“Young’n!”
“Yeah, Gramps. How old are you?”
“Thirty! What do you do?”
“Market analysis…research.”
“Sounds boring.”
“It is,” she agreed with a chuckle.
//
Contessa leaned against the headboard, content just watching Marshall bustle about the suite retrieving his clothes and briefcase. She stretched languidly; the sheet that she held loosely swept down her skin slightly to reveal her nakedness.
“Why do you do this, damn it!” he cursed as he breathed deeply to calm his speedy pulse.
“Do what?” she replied with doe-eyes and an angelic smile.
He pounced on her, whisking the linen off of her, and quickly unfastening his belt. Marshall plunged into her ready depths; he felt no remorse for having taken her to thoroughly with no time to prepare her, to time to warn her—he was giving her exactly what she’d asked for with those taunting curves and suggestive stretches.
“I thought you had to go?” she said breathlessly as she gripped his arms.
“Fuck it, Dre can wait!”
Giggling, she accommodated him further and lifted her hips to better receive him.
//
“Where the hell is he?” Dre said angrily.
Curtis shrugged. “I think he might be a little preoccupied—”
“Marshall’s never late!”
“Yeah, well…”
Marshall burst through the doors looking less than his best with his hair slightly disheveled and clothes wrinkled.
“Where have you been? You were supposed to be here a half hour ago!”
“Yo, man, I’m sorry… I had business to take care of.”
“We have business to take care of, too, in case you forgot!”
Ashamed, Marshall slid into the chair in front of his boss’ desk. “This business couldn’t wait,” he mumbled.
Curtis suppressed a smile and a laugh. He could just imagine what kind of business couldn’t wait.
//
“She got you good!” Curtis guffawed and slapped Marshall on the back.
“A man can only take so much! Shit, I was gettin’ ready to leave, and she’s just on the bed lookin’—”
“I’ve created a monster!”
//
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” he whispered as he hugged her close to him.
“I think you should live here forever,” she murmured sleepily.
He felt oddly touched, but quickly ignored the foreign feeling. “You’ll just have to come to Detroit sometime…”
“Maybe… I’m so tired,” she said yawning.
“Get some rest,” he said softly.
//
Marshall felt himself waking up—not by choice—as he was in the middle of an amazing dream; one involving a gorgeous brunette’s lips. As the image of the dream faded, the heat did not abate; instead, it was hotter, heavier, and that much more real.
“Oh, damn!” he swore with a sudden intake of breath as he looked down.
Contessa laughed merrily and went back to the task at hand.
Her lips caressed him intimately, drew his length within the darkness of her mouth once again. He felt hot, tensed, and greedy as his hands dug themselves into her brown locks, forcing her to receive more of him as he thrust and pushed in sequence. She took everything he gave, every time he gave it; she did it without wavering or hesitance—naturally and happily.
His brow furrowed in frustration when she brought him into the cool air and grasped him in her delicate hand, just as he felt himself on the brink of heaven.
“I want to feel you in my skin—” she explained in a hushed voice.
Her sultry words had him exploding; the milky substance erupted in her hand, caught her on her stomach and breasts, and she smiled with womanly satisfaction.
Marshall watched, absolutely fascinated, as she rubbed his essence across her belly, encircled her nipples with it.
“Damn, baby…”
“Do you like that, Marshall?” she asked innocently and suckled her finger.
“You know I do,” he replied solemnly and reached for her.
“Nuh-uh!” she shook her head. “It’s nearly noon, and I’m hungry!”
“I’m hungry, too,” he eyed her predatorily, attempting to grab her hips.
“For food!” she amended.
“I could do without, can’t you?”
“Oh, you sex fiend! Please?”
“What do I get?”
“I woke you up pretty nicely, I think I should be asking what’s my reward!”
He conceded. “Fine.”
“Oh, and Marshall?”
“What?”
“Remember, I’ll be wearing your cream all day—” she shot him a wicked grin.
He groaned and shut his eyes. “I swear to god, if you say one more dirty thing, I will not be responsible for my actions!”
//
“C’mon,” she said and tugged at his sleeve towards the hotel’s morning buffet.
“Damn, are you always this demanding?”
“Yes, and if I don’t get what I want, I can be very cruel—like not letting you touch me for the rest of the day!”
“You wouldn’t,” he mumbled.
“A woman’s will power knows no bound!” she affirmed cheerfully.
“Well, let’s get to eatin’ then.”
“I knew you’d see it my way!”
//
“Shopping?” he spat. “You’re makin’ me go shoppin’ with you?”
“Don’t look so upset! I promise you’ll have fun.”
“Oh, right. Carrying all your fuckin’ bags and lookin’ like a fool in the women’s department. Good times!”
“Please?” she whined. “I promise you’ll change your mind about shopping…at least with me!”
//
He decided that Contessa was truly trying to kill him.
And she wasn’t even touching him—yet.
“Now, Marshall, remember, you said you’d replace my panties!” she replied with amusement and dragged him into the lingerie store.
Chapter 5
Author: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.