Chapter 44: Game Night

The fireside mixer on Saturday was supposed to be board games, wine, and People Ops’ idea of bonding.

The main lodge recreation room had settled into something looser. The fire was real and loud. Two long tables held wine bottles and beer.

Someone had dragged out cards, a battered Monopoly set no one touched, and a stack of blank index cards and markers. The juniors from Cabin 7 had already gone back to sleep.

Sloane sat in an armchair near the fire with a glass of red she was nursing, not drinking. Priya stood at the drinks table. Marcus leaned against the far wall with two of the vendor-relations analysts. Natasha sat cross-legged on the rug near the hearth in a sweater that kept slipping off one shoulder.

Kai occupied the end of the sofa , face neutral, watching the room the way the quiet intern always watched rooms.

A woman from Accounting, mid-thirties, flushed from the wine, held up a stack of the index cards.

"New rule," she said. "We write dares. No names. Draw one, do it or drink twice. Nothing that leaves the room. Nothing that requires a report to People Ops. Anyone who wants out sits by the door and just watches."

A few people laughed. A few people shifted closer, no one moved to the door.

They wrote in silence for a minute. Cards went into an empty wine carton. The Accounting woman shook it and drew first.

"Kiss the person to your left for ten seconds."

She shrugged, turned, and kissed the man from vendor relations beside her, full, unhurried, long enough that the room went quiet. When she pulled back she was smiling. He looked stunned and then not.

The carton moved.

Marcus drew. He read the card, exhaled through his nose, and said, "Truth or forfeit. How many people in this room have you wanted to fuck since the parking level?"

The room went stiller.

Someone near the fire muttered, "Jesus."

Marcus looked around the circle, counted under his breath in a way that was almost comic, and said, "Four. I’m drinking anyway." He took a long pull of beer. Priya’s mouth twitched. Sloane did not change expression.

Natasha drew next. She read the card, glanced once at Kai, then at the rest of the circle.

"Show someone your underwear. Their choice."

A man from Legal two seats away raised a hand, half-joking.

Natasha stood, turned, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings. She pulled them down just far enough at the back to show black lace and the upper curve of her ass, held it for a five-count, then pulled them up again and sat. The flush on her neck was visible even in the firelight. She did not look at Kai when she sat.

The carton kept moving.

Priya drew. She read the card twice. Her voice stayed flat.

"Sit on someone’s lap until the next three cards are done. No clothes adjustment."

She stood, scanned the circle, and walked to Marcus.

He opened his knees slightly.

She sat across his thighs, back straight, one arm loosely around his shoulder for balance.

His hand settled at her hip like it had a right to be there. Neither of them looked at the rest of the room.

Sloane was next. She drew, read, and for the first time all evening something sharp moved through her expression.

"Remove one item of clothing from the person of your choice. They don’t get a say."

She stood, walked to Kai, and stopped in front of him "Sweater."

Kai lifted his arms. Sloane pulled the soft sweater up and off in one clean motion and dropped it on the sofa.

The soft T-shirt underneath sat thin against the quieter frame. Sloane returned to her chair without further comment.

The carton continued.

A dare went to one of the vendor-relations men: finger someone under a blanket for one full minute.

A throw blanket from the sofa was offered.

Natasha glanced at Kai, then at the man, and shook her head once.

Priya, still on Marcus’s lap, met the man’s eyes and nodded.

The blanket settled over her legs and Marcus’s.

The man’s hand disappeared under it.

Priya’s posture stayed perfect. Marcus’s jaw tightened. At the thirty-second mark Priya’s fingers dug into Marcus’s shoulder. At the sixty-second mark the man withdrew, face flushed, and Priya exhaled through her nose like she had finished a difficult clause. She did not get off Marcus’s lap. The next two cards still had to clear.

They cleared.

One was a kiss that turned into more than a kiss between two analysts near the fire.

The other was a forfeit drink that became two.

When the third card was done Priya finally stood. Marcus’s hand lingered on her hip a second longer than necessary.

The carton came around again.

Kai drew.

The card was written in sharp black marker:

"Take someone into the next room. Five minutes. Leave a mark they can’t hide under a collar."

The room waited.

Kai looked at Natasha.

She held his gaze and gave the smallest nod.

He stood sweater still on the sofa, and walked toward the side door that led to the lodge’s unused conference alcove.

Natasha rose and followed.

No one stopped them.

The fire kept burning.

The alcove was dark except for the spill of firelight under the door. A single table. Two chairs. A window that looked out onto black trees. Kai closed the door. Natasha was already opening her leggings.

"Five minutes is not a lot of time," she said.

"Then stop talking."

He pushed her back against the table, yanked the leggings and lace down to her thighs, and spun her so she braced on the wood.

His fingers found her already wet, whether from the game or the coach or the shed or all of it.

He freed his cock, lined up, and thrust into her in one hard stroke that forced a sound out of her she tried to muffle against her arm. He fucked her fast and deep, one hand in her hair, the other gripping her hip, the table edge digging into her thighs.

The wet slap of it was loud in the small room. Natasha pushed back to meet him.

At the four-minute mark he reached around and rubbed her clit in tight, ruthless circles. She came with a broken, bitten-off cry. He followed her over, burying himself deep and pulsing hard while the five-minute mark passed unnoticed.

He pulled out, turned her, and bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder, hard enough to bruise, high enough that a collar would not fully cover it.

Natasha gasped.

He held the bite for a three-count, then released her and stepped back.

"Mark," he said.

She touched the spot with two fingers, felt the heat of it, and pulled her leggings up with hands that shook slightly. "We should go back."

"We should."

They fixed their clothes in the dark.

Natasha’s sweater slipped off the same shoulder as before, showing the edge of the bite.

She left it that way.

Kai picked up nothing; his sweater was still on the sofa by the fire.

When they opened the door the game had escalated.

Priya was in Marcus’s lap again, this time straddling one of his thighs, his mouth on her neck.

One of the vendor-relations men had his hand up the Accounting woman’s skirt while she kissed the Legal associate from earlier.

Sloane was no longer in the armchair. She stood near the drinks table with her glass empty, watching the room with the same assessing stillness she used on files that did not add up. Someone had turned the lights lower. The fire threw long shadows.

No one asked where Kai and Natasha had gone. No one asked about the mark on Natasha’s neck when she sat back down on the rug.

The carton of dares had been abandoned on the floor, the room had moved past cards.

Marcus’s voice carried low from the sofa. "Cabin 9 is empty until midnight. The juniors on my side went to the other lodge for the movie People Ops put on."

Priya’s answer was quieter. "Then stop talking about it and move."