Even Odds (19 page)

The buzzer for the front door sounded, and they looked at each other and smiled. “Perfect timing,” Caleb said, sliding past Isabel and disappearing down the stairs, leaving the door to his apartment ajar.

Isabel pushed the door open the rest of the way and felt around for a light switch, flipping it and illuminating the apartment beyond. She shouldn't feel like this was trespassing, since he'd already invited her here,
and
she'd helped carry heavy stuff up the stairs, but it still felt strange to walk into his apartment without him there. The apartment was cozy but not too small, and Caleb's sparse decorating made it seem larger. Damn, he really did need this furniture. She stepped through the dining room, past a table scattered with art supplies and notebooks, and into the living room, which had a couch, a coffee table, and a television mounted on the wall, plus several gaming consoles balanced on top of one overstuffed bookcase. A hallway leading off the living room presumably led to the bedroom and bathroom.

Isabel's eyes were immediately drawn to the large sculpture mounted on the wall above the couch. She moved into the living room to get a better look. It was a composite piece of recycled materials, including some bike parts from what she could tell, welded together into what was unmistakably a mermaid. She'd never seen anything like it. As she reached out to touch it, one hand hesitating an inch from the smooth surface of the tail, Caleb stepped through the door carrying a pizza box and a bottle of soda. Isabel pulled her hand back, guilty.

Caleb spotted her and nodded. “It's okay, you can touch it.” He pushed the notebooks and colored pencils to one side of the table and set the pizza box and soda down on the cleared surface. Isabel reached out and ran her fingers along the smooth scales of the mermaid's tail, composed of overlapping bike chains.

“This is really cool. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.”

Isabel looked at the sculpture in disbelief. It was incredible. “I didn't know you did stuff like this.” She ran her fingers over the rest, the edges of unidentifiable machinery smoothed down and fastened into place. “You can weld?”

“Yeah. It was part of metalworking class at art school.” Caleb went into the kitchen. “Paper plates okay? I haven't done dishes in a few days.”

“Sure, that's fine.” Isabel was too distracted by the sculpture to pay any mind. “Where are you going to work now that you're here? You can't weld in your living room, right?”

“You definitely shouldn't. I'm looking at renting some garage space nearby, maybe a storage locker where I can work, if I can find one that's got air-conditioning.” Caleb returned with paper plates and plastic cups. The red Solo cups reminded Isabel of drinking with Matthew and Dan at DiceCon, which reminded her of drinking with Caleb at the Wingdings party the night they met, and she felt a wave of nostalgia.

Caleb headed back to the hallway. “Grab a spot on the couch and eat. I'm going to drag these in here. Don't want to leave them blocking the hallway.”

“Do you need help?” Isabel paused in the dining room, a plate of pizza in one hand and her drink in the other, watching as Caleb dragged the large boxes through the door.

“Nah, I've got it. They're not that heavy, just bulky.” He slid the boxes past her to lean them against a bare living room wall. Of course he was lying; they were both heavy
and
bulky, which Isabel knew since she'd helped haul them up the stairs. Caleb made the work look effortless, though, the muscles under his work shirt bunching as he set both boxes into place. He was a lot stronger than he looked, which made sense given his hobbies. Her face felt warm when she remembered gripping his biceps as he fucked her on her desk at the office. With her legs unsteady all of a sudden, she sat down on the couch.

Caleb joined her with his own food, sitting a respectable enough distance away that she couldn't feel the heat of his leg against hers, even though she imagined she could. The couch wasn't especially big.

“You want to watch something?” He grabbed the remote off the couch and flipped on the TV.

“I don't care. Surprise me.” Isabel settled into her pizza, which was delicious, or she was hungry enough that she couldn't tell. Caleb flipped to a baseball game.

“You like baseball?” Caleb asked through a mouthful of pizza.

“It's all right.” Isabel shrugged. “I don't really follow it.”

Caleb swallowed and nodded toward the TV. “I like baseball because I can just leave it on in the background while I'm doing something else. I had to subscribe to the MLB Network so I could watch the Red Sox down here. No offense, but I can't ever convert to being a Rays fan.”

Isabel laughed. “Caleb, I'm, like, the last person to care about sports teams. So, you do a lot of drawing?” Isabel looked over at the dining room table, where she could see a box of Prismacolors resting just beyond the pizza box.

“Yeah. Almost every night.” Caleb looked to the side, shifting on the sofa. “What about you? Not into art?”

“Just music. I play piano.”

“No kidding, really?” Caleb looked impressed. “You mentioned that once, but I thought you were just joking around. My parents made me take piano lessons when I was a kid. I was shit at it, though. Tried drums, but I couldn't play those, either, and my family hated listening to them even more than the piano. Eventually they gave up and signed me up for wood-carving lessons one summer, and that's what stuck. Got into sculpture after that.” Caleb shrugged. “How long have you been playing piano?” he asked between bites.

Isabel paused, counting up the years. “Over twenty years now.”

Caleb almost dropped his pizza. “Holy shit. You must be really good.”

Isabel smiled at the compliment, flattered at his obvious interest. “Yeah, I'm pretty good, I guess. My parents wanted me to apply to Juilliard, but all I wanted to do was game design. I still do concerts and things sometimes. Mostly for charity.” Maybe she'd stay up late and play before bed. Piano always relaxed her when she was stressed out or wound up, and after spending an evening in such close proximity to Caleb, she was likely to be both.

Caleb opened his mouth to say something, but was immediately distracted by someone on the television hitting a home run. He turned his attention fully to the game for the next few minutes, and Isabel turned back to her pizza.

“Thanks for helping me with this Ikea bullshit.” Caleb broke the silence after a little while.

“If I had known how much heavy lifting was going to be involved, I would have told you to ask one of the guys from work.” Isabel finished her pizza, smiling to show him she wasn't serious.

Caleb shrugged and got up to set his empty plate on the kitchen table. He brushed the palms of his hands off on his pants. “You mind if I get changed before we start building?”

“Sure, whatever.” Isabel waved him off. “I'm going to have another slice.”

Caleb disappeared down the hall. Isabel snagged another slice of pizza, and in the process, accidentally knocked one of Caleb's sketch pads onto the floor. It fell open to a sketch of a character she recognized, the avatar from a popular puzzle game. Intrigued, she picked up the sketch pad and held it in both hands, her conscience prickling. She should put it back. His art was beautiful, though, and she wanted to see more of it. If she asked, he'd probably say yes, so she could just leaf through a couple of pages, right? Biting her lip, she glanced toward the bedroom. The door was shut. She turned the page.

Four pages later, she dropped the pad.

It clattered onto the floor, the metal spiral binding hitting the tile, the lurid sketch staring up at her. Caleb had drawn her, and not just her face, but her entire body, spread out and naked on the page. She stared down at it, frozen and dizzy, her face and body hot. This was how he remembered her. He thought of her like this, thought and sketched her, maybe his cock hard with the memory. Shame and arousal mixed inside her.

The sound of the bedroom door jolted her into action. After scrabbling for the edge of the pad on the tile, she grabbed it and was about to set it back when Caleb spotted her.

She met his eyes, feeling the guilt and embarrassment flooding her face, fingers tight on the sketch pad she still clutched with both hands. Caleb stood frozen in the doorway, now wearing a pair of jeans and a worn T-shirt, and the horrified expression on his face showed her he knew exactly what she'd seen.

Even while she watched, his face went from embarrassed to guilty, his eyes lowering, head ducking an inch as he walked steadily forward and took the sketch pad from her. He didn't look at the page as he folded the book closed and set it back down on the table, out of reach of both of them. The silence felt like a physical barrier between them.

“So . . . this is awkward.” Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand if you want to go.”

“It's really good.” Isabel stared at the closed sketch pad, feeling like her whole face was on fire. Thank goodness her complexion muted her blush, because otherwise she'd probably be beet red. “The drawing, I mean. And . . . I'm sorry I was snooping.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should learn not to go peeking into other people's stuff.” Caleb's lips twitched upward, the smile hesitant, as he looked from the pad to her. His expression seemed to ask, “Is this okay?” and Isabel felt herself relax.

“Oh no, I think this skews the odds far more in my favor.” Isabel shook her head.

“The odds?” Caleb's eyebrows went up. “You're betting on us?”

“No, not really.” Isabel shook her head. “It's a way I think about things, probably because of tournaments. Odds of winning.”

“Winning? How do you win a relationship?” Caleb was smirking now.

Isabel remembered how it felt to be in his arms, kissing him while he thrust into her, which felt a lot like winning in her mind. She wasn't ready to yield yet, though. “Snooping gives me, like, five-to-one odds against winning. Your drawing me naked gives you closer to fifty-to-one odds. And since you already lied to me about applying for the job, we're looking at some seriously long odds against your winning this arrangement.”

Caleb put his hands on his hips. “I've seen you naked, remember. Multiple times. Once I've seen you naked, I think I have the right to draw you naked.”

“No, no, no.” Isabel shook her head. “I don't draw you naked.”

“You could if you wanted.” Caleb's smirk became a grin. “Or since you don't draw, you could play music about me naked.”

“Music about you naked? What would that be?” Isabel couldn't stop her smile, the embarrassment making all of this ridiculously funny. “Horror music like
Jaws
?”

“Very funny. If I recall correctly, you haven't been laughing.” Caleb took a step forward, encroaching on her personal space. She didn't back up.

“You did not request the intellectual property rights to drawing me naked. As the owner of my naked body, I have complete copyright on those images. You can think about them, but when you commit them to paper, you owe me royalties.” Isabel tried to sound stern, but she was grinning, her heart fluttering at his proximity as he stepped up to her. Resting his hands on the table on either side of her hips, he boxed her in.

“Well, I think that
you're
the one who owes
me
royalties, because I never gave you permission to think about me naked.” Caleb's eyes sparkled as he looked down at her, and Isabel's throat went dry.

Her next words trembled. “Who's . . . who's to say I've been thinking about you naked?”

“Haven't you been?” Caleb read her body perfectly, dipping his head to nuzzle at her earlobe. “Haven't you been thinking about what I can do to you?”

It was much more difficult to stand with his lips on her earlobe. Isabel gripped the table behind her for support, her hands next to his. She closed her eyes. “Every night.”

He huffed out a groan. “Fuck, Isabel. Every night?” His hands moved from the table to her hips, sliding around to her back to pull her close.

Isabel widened her stance to bring him even closer, his hips slotting against hers. “Yeah. Every night. I fuck myself and think of you.”

Caleb kissed his way down her neck, hands cupping her ass. “I'd like to see that.”

“Mmmm.” Isabel tipped her head back to give him more access, unable to think of any reason why they hadn't been doing this all along. “It's . . .” She caught her breath as he nipped her skin, hips stuttering up against his with a jolt of arousal. “It's quite a show. I have a lot of toys.”

“Jesus Christ.” Caleb slid one hand into her hair and crushed her mouth under his. Isabel kissed back, desperate for his touch, already soaked with arousal, reaching up to grip his biceps with her hands the way she had the last time they'd done this. Caleb pulled back, his pupils wide. “Please tell me you want this as much as I do.”

“Fuck yes.” She dragged his mouth back to hers. Caleb indulged in the kiss for a moment, his tongue searching her mouth, then broke away. “No getting weird afterward. If we do this, it's because we both want it. No regrets.”

Isabel nodded. “Okay. Yeah. No regrets.” She could do this with no regrets. She'd wanted it all week. It was ridiculous to keep saying no.

“Great.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall. “Bedroom. Now.”

Caleb could not believe
how lucky he'd gotten. She'd seen the drawing, and not only had she not stormed out in a huff but she'd gotten hot about it. He needed this woman in his bed, right now. Fortunately, she seemed to have the same idea, her hands tugging at the hem of the T-shirt he'd just put on. His work clothes were still scattered on the floor from where he had taken them off, and soon the rest of his clothes joined them, his shirt and then his jeans as Isabel attacked the layers with single-minded intensity. If they kept up this pace, everything was going to be finished in no time at all. Despite his desperation, he didn't want to rush.

“Whoa, slow down.” Caleb stepped back, catching his breath.

Isabel paused, her hands on the buttons of her blouse, and looked up at him with apprehension. “Did you change your mind?”

“What? No. We just rushed things last time. I want to slow down.” Stepping in, he moved her hands and started unfastening her buttons himself. “Neither of us has to work in the morning. We have as long as we want.”

“There's still Ikea furniture in the other room that needs to be set up.” Her expression was completely serious, and Caleb cracked up laughing.

“Yeah, okay, we'll make sure to get to that.” He pushed the two halves of her blouse off her shoulders. God, she was gorgeous. “I forgot how incredible your breasts were.” Slipping his hands into the cups of her bra, he hefted their weight and ran his thumbs over the nipples. Isabel pushed into his hands, reaching behind herself to unfasten the clasp on her bra. The garment fell aside, giving him free access.

“I told you, I don't like to have people looking at my body.” Her sentence was punctuated with gasps and hitching breaths as he began to twist her nipples between his fingers.

“What about right now? Do you like it now?” Caleb stepped back enough to get a better vantage point. She was incredible. His drawing didn't do her justice.

Tipping her head back, Isabel closed her eyes. “Mmmm. Just don't stop.”

He had no intention of stopping. After unfastening the buttons on her pants, he stripped her of the rest of her clothes and pulled her against him to kiss her again. She tasted sweet and warm and he couldn't get enough of her. When she slid her fingers into his hair to tug him closer, he went, and she felt so good pressed against him. The bed was only a few short feet away, and in a moment she was spread out under him like a banquet.

He wanted to dive in and devour her, press inside her warmth and drive her over the edge, but an idea came to him that would be even better. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked down into her beautiful brown eyes. “So what are the odds against me now?”

Isabel blinked, dazed in her arousal. “What?”

“You said the odds were against me for drawing you naked. I assume you've been keeping track all along.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I'm a gamer, Caleb. It's what I do.”

He settled more firmly in the cradle of her hips, his boxers the only thin layer between them. “Am I really far in the hole?”

“Not yet, but I'm hoping you will be soon.” She rubbed up against him, her smirk mischievous, and Caleb rolled his eyes at her pun. “If I had to put a number on it, I'd say you've got odds against you of a hundred to one.”

“A hundred to one? Those aren't good odds.” Caleb started kissing his way across her collarbone, gratified by her sigh and the fingers she wove into his hair. He spoke his next words against her skin. “Why don't you give me a chance to even the odds?”

“What do you mean?” Her words sounded breathless, and she squirmed as he began kissing the space between her breasts.

“I mean, you let me know when I turn those odds in my favor.” Caleb traced her dark brown aureole with a fingertip, chancing a look at her face. “All right?”

Her bright smile told him she was up for it. “Sure.”

“How much is it worth to suck on your nipples, just like this?” Dipping his head, he flicked his tongue across the hardened peak. “Maybe that brings me up to eighty to one?”

Isabel nodded, her eyelids drooping as her mouth fell open.

“Hmm? I didn't hear you.” He licked again.

“Yes! Fine.” Isabel squirmed. “Please.”

Caleb closed his lips around the taut bud and sucked, drawing a quiet moan from Isabel. His cock throbbed urgently in his boxers, but he focused only on Isabel, worshipping her amazing breasts. Beneath him, her hips bucked up when he bit down gently on the tight peak. Then he switched to the other breast. He loved having her helpless like this, knowing he was making her lose herself.

He lifted his head and looked down at her panting on the mattress. “There, eighty-to-one odds. Make sure you keep track now. You'd better hold me accountable.”

Although she was beginning to look quite disheveled, Isabel smiled. “Right. Maybe we should keep a tally sheet.”

Wanting more room to work, Caleb rolled off to the side, propping himself up on one elbow and tracing down her stomach with his free hand. He drew small circles in the crinkly hair at the juncture of her thighs, then slipped one finger down to find her clit. He knew when he hit the right spot because she bucked up again, her hands fisting in the sheets. There, that was it. God, she was hot, not only gorgeous but slick, his finger sliding easily between her folds to probe her swollen pussy.

“I love watching you like this.” From this angle, he could concentrate on her face, watch her fall apart under his hands. He imagined her alone, touching herself and making these soft whimpering noises, and his cock twitched again. They needed to do this again, at her house, where he could enjoy all the toys she'd mentioned. But damn, if he thought about that, he was never going to see this through to its wonderful completion.

Returning to her bud, he began to rub in slow circles. Isabel let her legs fall open, giving him more access. He paused, his finger stilling, and Isabel opened her eyes with an indignant expression on her face.

Caleb grinned. “Fifty to one.”

“Fifty to one?” She raised her eyebrows, managing to sound quite composed. “That's highway robbery. For those odds, I want two hands.”

He loved that she was playing back. “All right, the woman drives a hard bargain.” Shifting position, he moved to sit between her spread thighs, scooting forward so her legs were draped over his. Yes, this was much better. In this position, she was spread out and exposed. She must have realized it, too, for she looked away and bit her lip.

“No, none of that.” Caleb patted her lightly on one thigh. “You'd better watch, make sure you're getting your money's worth.”

One side of Isabel's mouth twitched in a smile, but she looked back, her expression shy. He wanted her to forget her shyness, forget everything but him. With one hand, he spread her open, parting her dark, wet folds. With the other, he slid two long fingers into her pussy and curled them upward.

“Oh!” Isabel arched up, hands grabbing for the sheets again. There, that was what he wanted to see. Releasing her folds, he pressed one palm down on the thatch of curly hair and rubbed his thumb up and down over her clit. She made a noise then, a high and desperate keen. God, she was so wet. He wanted to dip his cock into her and feel that hot flesh tight all around him. But right now, this was too good to stop. He kept the same pace, the same pressure, rubbing her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. Each time he slid inside, he pressed upward, finding all her sensitive spots. He loved this. Taking a woman apart with his fingers was beautiful, all the best aspects of being a tactile person and a sensual person combined in one hot spectacle. She couldn't come yet, though. He wasn't finished with her.

With the attention of a perfectionist, he watched as her hips started to move more quickly, the way her nipples tightened, the fluttering of her muscles around his fingers as she got closer to the edge. There, almost there. Just a bit more. When her clit began to twitch, he stopped, his thumb coming off the swollen flesh entirely.

She pressed her hips upward with a desperate groan, seeking more stimulation. Caleb kept his fingers deep inside her, still rubbing her G-spot, not enough to get her over the edge. With bleary eyes, Isabel looked at him. “What . . . what the fuck?” she managed to say, her voice cracking. “Why did you stop?”

“Coming is extra.” Caleb smiled. “We need to renegotiate.”

Although Caleb didn't speak Spanish, the stream of obscenities that came out of her mouth didn't require translation. He recognized a few terms, though, and none were very flattering. “Easy there,” he said with mock sternness in his voice. “You don't want me to stop altogether, do you?”

Isabel smiled and shook her head. “You're a dick, you know that? Fine, even odds, just make me come.”

Caleb rubbed her clit, just a couple of times, bringing her close to the edge again. “Now, now. That's no way to ask.”

Isabel's mouth fell open as she neared the peak, the pleasure taking her words away. Before she came, though, Caleb stopped again. “Ask me nicely.”

Her look was less pleased, more annoyed this time. “Please stop being a fucking dick,” she said, raising her eyebrows at the end. He wondered how far he could push this.

“I'm just trying to earn credit honestly.” He brushed her clit so lightly she could barely feel it, just enough to keep her on the edge. Isabel bit her lip, her eyes growing desperate, and Caleb could feel the quivering of her muscles around him as she sought her orgasm. “Do you want to come? Is that what you want?”

Isabel lifted her head an inch, just enough to catch his eye. “Please, Caleb, fuck me and make me come.”

Damn. He hadn't anticipated her asking like that, all desperate and needy, with her voice hoarse and low. He wanted to watch her fall apart and find his own release later, but the tenor of her voice had him just as desperate as she was in no time at all. Stripping off his boxers, he grabbed for a condom in the nightstand.

Isabel watched all this with a smile on her lips, her eyes dark. When Caleb returned to her, she looked far too smug. He wanted that desperation again. Climbing on top of her, he pinned her hands on either side of her head. Her eyes widened.

“Is this all right?” he asked.

She nodded rapidly. “So good. Please.” Arching up against him, she began to rub against his cock.

Keeping her pinned there, Caleb nudged his tip into her, parting her folds enough to barely slip inside. Holding himself there took all his self-control. She was so hot, a furnace, and her muscles were already gripping at his cock like a vise. He wanted this to last, though, wanted to watch her go to pieces beneath and around him. Inch by inch, he pressed all the way inside.

Isabel's lips parted with each inch he slid forward, eyes falling closed as he finally bottomed out inside her, his cock engulfed by her wet heat. He had to catch his breath or he was going to lose it. She was still quivering with her denied orgasm, and fuck, he'd developed a kink he never knew he had.

Releasing her wrists, he slid his hands under her shoulders for leverage and began to move. Each long, slow stroke felt like beautiful agony. “Can you come like this?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not usually . . .” But she sounded doubtful, and he could feel how close she was, the way she was still trembling. She tilted her hips back, letting him drive even deeper. “But oh
fuck
. So close. I think . . . maybe if you . . . yes, there . . . it's just . . .”

She came with a gasp. Her back arched up off the bed, her hands digging into his shoulders as her pussy squeezed around him like a fist. He held her through it, continuing to thrust. Her breathless soft cries brought him right to the edge, and then before he could try to control himself, he was gone, awash in the pleasure of his own climax.

“Holy fuck.” Isabel collapsed onto the bed, flinging one arm up over her forehead.

Caleb rolled off her, breathless like he'd just run up several flights of stairs. “Yeah. No kidding.” After a moment of catching his breath, he reached over to the nightstand for tissues to dispose of the condom.

Isabel stared up at his ceiling, eyes glazed. “You all right?” Caleb asked, brushing some hair back from her forehead.

She nodded. “Mm-hmm.” She looked over at him and smiled. “I think I want more pizza, though.”

———

If anyone had asked
Isabel earlier in the week what she had planned to do with her Friday night, she would not have said, “Have incredible sex, then assemble Ikea furniture in my underwear.” But there she was, sitting on the floor with Caleb, wearing her underwear and lining up the bookcase hardware on the carpet according to its letter designation. “You want a beer?” Caleb asked, poking around in the fridge while she finished opening all the plastic bags for the parts they would need. She leaned back to peer into the kitchen, admiring the curve of his ass in his boxers as he stood in front of the fridge, wearing nothing else.