Game of Chance
Chapter 5
She snuck a quick glance at the empty dressing rooms and motioned Marshall to follow her into one of the larger ones.
“Which one do you like better?” she asked innocently and held up several revealing negligees.
“All of them!” he growled and pushed her against the wall.
His hands lifted up her skirt, while her hands fumbled with his pants, managing to shove them down far enough so she had access to his erection. Impatiently, he forced her thighs apart with his knee, and buried himself deeply, in a single stroke, and groaned into her neck to muffle the sound into her skin.
//
“Miss?” a woman’s voice asked while a light knock was heard.
“Uh, yes?” Contessa squeaked with her eyes shut tight, her legs wrapped around Marshall’s thighs, and trembling just on the brink of ecstasy.
“I’m sorry, but only one person is allowed in the dressing room at a time.”
“Oh, sorry,” she replied quickly.
Once the woman’s footsteps faded away, she urged Marshall deeper within her wetness.
“Hurry,” she whispered into his ear.
//
“That was close,” he muttered as they exited the shop—his cheeks were tinged with slight embarrassment at the saleswoman’s knowing eye.
“Oh, live a little!” she laughed.
//
She bit her lip to keep from moaning as Marshall’s mouth tortured her while his hand kneaded her breast. “Um… What about your flight?” she managed to say when he’d lessened up the pressure of his lips against hers.
“Gonna miss it…” he replied nonchalantly.
With a great deal of control, she tried to wrangle herself out of his hands, only to no avail. “You can’t miss your flight just to fuck me—”
“Watch me!” he growled and attacked her mouth with a ferocity that had her melting beneath his fingers.
“Oh, Marshall!” she replied tartly and ducked out of his reach. “Go get on that plane because I know you have an important meeting first thing tomorrow!”
He felt the urge to kiss her senseless because she was standing there all mussed up with her hands on her hips looking like she was next in line to play god. His heart was doing funny things, and Marshall knew he had to put some distance between them—the feelings, the want, everything was too much too quickly.
“All right,” he nodded. “But I’ll try and make a trip to Cali soon…”
She gave him a tremulous smile.
“Yeah… Well, it was fun, so…”
“So go, and we’ll see each other when we do,” Contessa finished for him and managed to keep her anger out of her voice.
//
He shut his eyes at his desk, knowing that the action was futile as his mind throttled him with image after image of her. It didn’t keep him from trying to push out of his mind; she was more than he could handle or wanted to—Marshall refused to let himself be so easily controlled by one woman.
Begrudgingly, he’d made a decision; when he was asked to finish up some business on the west coast, he’d declined.
He had really wanted to go.
He was forcing his feet to stay planted on the ground to keep himself from flying out there himself.
//
Marshall sighed and pressed his forehead against his hands, doing the same thing he’d done in the past month.
“Damn, what’s wrong with you?” Curtis asked as he entered the office.
“Nada, what’s up?”
Curtis shook his head. “Kim givin’ you grief?”
“Don’t even start on her,” Marshall warned.
“I don’t know why the fuck you got back with her—again.”
“Look, it’s my business—”
“You ain’t supposed to be with someone if all they do is make you miserable!”
“I’m not miserable!” he argued.
“Could have fooled me!” Curtis replied and threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Fine, fuck your personal shit then. The track is ready for you to hear.”
Marshall winced at his friend’s angry tone.
//
She missed him—a lot. Lately, whenever her phone rang at an odd hour, she felt her heart thump in anticipation.
“He’s not going to call you, stupid,” Contessa scolded herself.
“What about being stupid?” Stella questioned while balancing a box of pizza with one hand and cokes in another.
“It’s been over a month, Stella.”
“Maybe he’s just busy?”
“Yeah, maybe… I don’t think so, though. Soon isn’t a month later.”
“I really think he’s just busy, girl.”
“I think he’s busy with—”
“Don’t even think it!” Stella admonished.
//
“Hello?”
“Hello?” Contessa replied with confusion over the unfamiliar voice on the telephone.
“Is this Contessa?”
“Uh…”
“It’s Curtis…”
“Oh, hi. Yeah, it’s me.”
“I think you need to come to Detroit.”
“Why?” she asked wryly. “I don’t see any reason to be there.”
“Damn it, will you just come?”
“No.”
“What the hell happened between you and him?”
“Nothing, apparently.”
“I swear, just get your ass to SFO tomorrow morning, ‘cause there’s a ticket waiting for you—you won’t regret it!”
She could hear his anger reverberate through the phone as he slammed it down.
//
“Go,” Stella urged.
“Why should I?”
“He wants you there!”
“No, Curtis does. Marshall didn’t call.”
“Look, you should go. I’ll cover for you and everything. If all else fails, at least you get to hit some of the Detroit clubs, right?” her friend grinned.
“I—”
“Girl, just go.”
Chapter 6
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.