The Game (13 page)

Damon sat in the empty meeting room perusing through his emails.  He was having trouble concentrating.  His mind was screaming at him, sending warning bells cutting through his conscious thoughts.  He’d had Jane Burrows last night.  It had been extremely gratifying, her responsiveness was absolutely resolute, and her tight body had teased him into the uncontrolled frenzy he’d feared.  He didn’t regret the memories of it, but he wasn’t sure he would have done it had he not been sleep deprived and lulled by alcohol.

She wasn’t the type of girl he normally
slept with, being the type who was looking for a relationship and someone they could introduce to their parents.  He was definitely not that, which is why he contained himself to girls who generally wanted something more superficial from him.  Sex was just part and parcel of the bargain.

Jane wasn’t that kind of girl, he was pretty sure she wasn’t interested in being seen in the society pages, or angling for a promotion.  At least he hadn’t gotten that vibe off her, which made things a lot more difficult for him.  He needed to ensure that she knew full and well that there wasn’t going to be a relationship between them when they got back home.  This was just a fling, one they both enjoyed.

He decided the safest course would be to inform her of this however bluntly necessary to get the message across, and most importantly, to not sleep with her again.  Not only did he not want to give her the wrong impression, he could also get way too addicted to that sex.  The previous evening had been something else, something that was to be savored.  It might steal his drive to accomplish anything if he was ridden like that every morning.  There was danger in the kind of thing she did to him.

No, he had to ensure he didn’t do it again. 
She was a big girl; she couldn’t be completely ignorant of how these things worked.  If she was, she would find out in short order.

Damon had taken her to a restaurant in China Town.  They were walking along the street after the taxi had dropped them off.

“Now I warn you, it’s not much to look at, but the food is absolutely spectacular.  Places like these have specialties and the one we’re going to is known for their duck.  It is absolutely laden with garlic, so it’s not something to be eaten ahead of a meeting.  Luckily we have no meetings tomorrow.  Well, unless something is wrong with the bid
, but it’s worth the risk.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Jane said.  She’d wanted to wear jeans tonight and had pulled out the pair she’d packed, but she’d taken a step outside earlier and gone right back upstairs to change into the
lilac cotton dress she’d bought.  She would be extremely uncomfortable all night if she’d worn the jeans.  They were perfectly fine for the Singaporeans, but her body couldn’t cope with the heavy constrictive material in this heat.

Damon looked perfect as h
e always did.  He had on the gray pants from his suit without the jacket, and a dark shirt.  All his clothes fit him so well, she wasn’t sure how to describe the difference between what others wore and how he wore clothes.  Maybe his clothes were specifically made for him.  They showed off his body really well, and Jane would catch herself looking at him.

She still couldn’t believe she’d been with him the previous night.  It had by far been the most spectacular sex she’d ever had.  In hindsight, she wasn’t sure she would label her previous experience as
sex; it was more like awkward fumbling in comparison.

She hadn’t gone anywhere near questioning it or what it meant, she was just grateful that she’d had the experience.  It was interes
ting that he’d taken her out tonight again.  She wondered if that meant he had expectations for that night.  She didn’t mind if he did.  Then again, maybe he was taking he to a garlic infested dinner to discourage any re-enactment of the previous evening.

They took a seat in a really run down restaurant.  He was right, the restaurant itself looked like it should be shut down by the health authorities,
just like the seafood restaurant they’d been too a few nights back.  Everything was made of cheap plastic and their table was out on the road and covered by a dirty awning.

“They do approach things differently, don’t they?” she said.

“They see the value in the food more than the surroundings.”

“So what’s on the inside is more important that what’s
on the outside.”

“In a matter of speaking.”

“Well, it is a value I generally prescribe to,” she said.  “I wholeheartedly encourage it.”

“So you don’t mind the humble surroundings.”

“If you’re right about the food, I don’t really care.  How do you find places like this?”

“I take recommendations from our Singaporean
colleagues; they always know the good places.”

“I am beginning to suspect you’re a bit of an explorer,” she said.

“I like trying new things.”

Jane wondered if she was a new thing he was trying. 
She reinforced to herself that she didn’t want to dig into what had happened, she just had a feeling there would be unpleasantness if she did.  She convinced herself that she was just going to take it as one of those things that happened.  Mostly to other people, but this once, it had happened to her.  This fairly naughty thing with a man who was completely out of her league.  She had no illusions about that.

The food arrived almost immediately,
then suddenly there were dishes covering their section of the large round table.  Jane had no idea how to eat it, but she followed Damon’s direction, wrapping the delicious smelling meat into these wrappers.

The taste was exquisite, the succulent meat melted in her mouth.  She nodded her approval.

“Exploring really has its reward, I’m so glad you brought me here.”

He smiled and took a large bite out of his wrapped duck.

Damon watched his dinner guest as she nimbly tried to keep her wrapper contained as she took a bite.  It was clear that she was enjoying the
food; she was intently focused on it.  He’d never considered that eating with your fingers could be sexy, but watching her, it definitely was.  Her slender fingers supported the food as she took bites out of it.

The girls he normally dated wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this, fearing that the lack of luxuries would infect their expensive Prada heels.  They were also dressed to perfection, tanned
and sparkling.  Jane Burrows was nothing like them; her skin was alabaster and dewy.  He remembered seeing the contrast last night of his much darker hand on her pale skin.  It sent a jolt down to his groin.

She was just so damned
artless; he didn’t quite know what to do with it.  So intent on her food, she wasn’t even noticing him studying her.  Her pale skin gave away to the dusky pink of her lips, lips that were bare and kissable.  Then he watched as the stray bit of juice was retrieved by her small tongue.  He was getting completely turned on and he couldn’t quite explain why. 

He looked away, he’d sworn to himself that he was not going to repeat the conclusion to the previous night, but she wasn’t making it easy for him.  Partially for the reason that she was completely unaware of what she was doing.  She was so different from the girls he normally
dated, the ones who would be coaxing him with their stares, smiles and light touches.

“I’m not sure I can take any more,” she said and leaned back in her chair.  “I might actually pop.  That was awesome.  What other treasures have you got hidden away?”

“Quite a few,” he said referring to more than just the edible.  He was flirting with her, he’d sworn he wouldn’t, but he was.  He really wanted to feel those slender fingers of hers touching and exploring.  “Should we go?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe we can walk.  It’s a bit of a walk, but not a difficult one,” he suggested, more for the reason of not being stuck in a small taxi with her heading toward privacy and beds.  Even some sedate exercise might work through some of the tension; get him past this desire that was infusing all of his senses.  He paid for the dinner while she waited on the street outside. 

The breeze was playing lightly with her hair and the skirt of her dress.  He felt an urge to kiss her as she waited for him, but he refused to succumb to
the impulse.  It was not in his best interest to mess around with her further, it would only create complications.  A one night stand was just that if it lasted one night, two nights was getting into different territory, and he categorically didn’t want her thinking in that direction.  The last think he wanted was to have to put up with an angry, sulky colleague, upset because the fling they had didn’t signify something more.

“So, have you ever sailed further afield?” she asked as they started walking.

“Mostly just around the North Island, but I am planning to.  I might sail around the Pacific Islands again one day.  Maybe the Mediterranean.”

“That would be pretty spectacular.  And you plan on doing it alone?”

“I haven’t found that boats are large enough for two people, and sadly the size of the boat is pretty irrelevant.”

“And what do you do other than work and sail?”

“Not much actually.”

“I see you in the papers quite often; you seem to get around a bit.”

“I consider that work,” he said.  It was true; he needed a good profile to be successful.  He also needed the networks that it provided.  Jane seemed to contemplate him more seriously.  “Well, there is sport of course, I am a guy.” 

“Did you used to play?”

“I played rugby at University, but I got too busy after to stick with the training schedule.”

They kept walking for a while.  He was a bit disconcerted because there wasn’t any of the usual banter, attempts to get them closer, like asking him to teach her how to sail.  Girl
s often did that, they had no interest in sailing; they just wanted to use it as a means of securing his interest.  Jane Burrows wasn’t trying, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.  There was no question that she didn’t like him, her response to him proved it.  Maybe she was just smart enough to realize that there was no future between them.  He was continually surprised by how bright she was. 

“Hey, I know where we are,” she said with delight as they reached the river.  “We were over there yesterday.”  She was pointing across to the restaurant on the other
river bank.

“Do you want a drink?”  The whole river side was lit up with bars and restaurants.  He could use something.  He
felt it was still too early to head back to the hotel.

“Sure.”

They sat down at a table with views across the dark river.  Tall buildings loomed around them giving more sparkling lights than the ones the bar had furnished around the open air seating area.

“I can’t even imagine what this would look like in the daytime.”

“You can have a look tomorrow.  Our flight is not until seven.”

“This week has gone so quickly, I’ve hardly had time to breath,” she said.  He ordered for them and the waiter returned with their drinks in short order.

Maybe stopping for a drink wasn’t such a good idea, now he was sitting here staring at her lovely skin again, holding himself back from reaching out and touching it.

“I think I am getting a little bit more used to the heat.”

“It’s cooling down.”

“Oh,” she said with
surprise.

“
I think it’s going to rain tomorrow.”  He tried to relax, but he just couldn’t be rid of the tension in him.  On the other hand, it was nice to feel it.  It was interesting to want something he couldn’t have.  It wasn’t a position he was in all that often.  He usually got what he wanted, but Jane Burrows he shouldn’t have.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t completely aware of what he was denying himself.  They fit together perfectly and it was different with her.  He wasn’t entirely sure why, but it was, or maybe it just felt like that because he had forbidden himself from doing it again.  Although by nature he wanted to break down barriers, it only made the forbidden more attractive, and he was just setting her up in his mind as forbidden fruit.

“Let’s go,” Damon said after he threw back his drink.  They hadn’t been there long and she was only half way through her drink.  He looked annoyed for some reason.  She tried to think back at their conversation to examine if it was anything she’d said, but there was nothing remotely offensive in their dialogue.  Maybe he was tired, she conceded, or worse, tired of the company.

“Of course,” she said feeling a bit self-conscious.  The old boring accusation reared its ugly head, and she took a last deep sip of the gin and tonic.

“Do you think it will rain really hard like it did before?”  A heavy roll of thunder worked its way across the horizon. 

“It always does.  It’s often full blast or nothing.”
  Kind of like the man in front of her, she thought to herself.   She couldn’t figure him out.  He was so guarded, and so completely different from the man she’d experienced the previous evening.