Drawn That Way Page 6
Chapter Ten
Rory watched her leave, fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to call her back. He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms on the couch and hold her while she climbed out of her subspace. It wasn’t a full-on drop or anything, but close enough. Instead, he’d gotten her something to eat and drink and had sent her on her way. He was an asshole.
Forget feeding her and sending her home—he never should have had sex with her in the first place. He rubbed his hand across his face, her scent still heavy on his skin. He couldn’t even bring himself to think that—well, think it and mean it. It had been one of the most intense encounters of his life. The way she’d trusted him not to truly hurt her. The way she’d responded so enthusiastically. The way she’d looked at him and truly seemed to see him. Add to all that her intelligence and sense of humor and, hell, her beauty…he was screwed. God, he was so fucking stupid. He’d broken his one rule, and now, he wanted more. That was the one thing he couldn’t have.
Sighing, he grabbed the SD card and sank into his desk chair, trying to summon the motivation to open his laptop. But, instead, all he did was stare at the empty spot where Tristan had been. Fucking wonderful. Now, everything in this room was going to remind him of her.
He’d never had a problem with obsessively thinking about other woman he’d had sex with. It had been nothing to move from a mutually enjoyed experience to whatever was next on his list. It had to be because they worked together, and he knew he’d been seeing her again in a little over forty-eight hours. That was the only explanation. It was also the reason he’d never do something like this again.
Grabbing his laptop from the far side of the desk, he pushed the memory card into the computer and uploaded the images and started scrolling through the shots he’d taken of Tristan earlier. The first few were a little awkward. She looked uncomfortable and incredibly self-conscious, but he could see her gradually relax and get into the process as he progressed through the images.
He zoomed in on a close up of her face. God, she was beautiful. He’d always found her attractive, but now… It was more than the long, glossy hair he wanted to bury his face in. And more than her killer curves. Or her eyes. Fuck. Her emotions had been so apparent. It had been impossible not to know what she’d been thinking. All he’d needed to do was look into those pale green depths to know what she’d wanted. What she’d needed.
His phone chimed. Swiping his thumb across the screen, he brought up Tristan’s message. Home. Safe and sound.
Relief spread through him. He’d been second-guessing his decision to let her leave on her own. After responding, he scrubbed his hands though his hair. He needed to focus on the project and prep some drawings to present to the rest of the art committee on Monday when he revealed the additional phase of the expansion. Saving the best and the most useful poses in a separate folder, he moved on to the video.
He was never really at ease seeing himself on camera, but any discomfort was easy enough to ignore when he could see himself interacting with Tristan. He loved watching her move. She was light on her feet, and she clearly enjoyed sparring. In the video, she alternated between smiling and intensely focusing on him, doing her best to land blows and bring him down. He’d lost track of points scored during the scrimmage, but the footage showed what he’d suspected—she’d beaten the pants off him.
He zoomed in as they drew closer to the end of the fight, when she’d knocked him on his ass. Her triumphant smile was something to behold. She seemed positively gleeful to have taken him down. He could see the moment she’d lowered her guard and his intent to turn the tables. For someone who’d made a point to hide his emotions and reactions to just about everything, it was undeniably clear. Was that something she brought out in him, or had he just been off balance because of the situation?
He watched, fascinated as he flipped her on to her back, pinning her. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. In that moment, he’d been so focused on her face, he hadn’t noticed the way her nipples had hardened as soon as he’d loomed over her. But, damn, he was seeing it now. It was a good thing he was planning to have her spar with Clover and Annie instead of him. Otherwise, he had a feeling that unless she said no, his good intentions for keeping his hands off her would fly right out the window.
Switching to his email, he dashed out a quick note to Annie and Clover, explaining the plans for more realistic female characters in the Dark Soul’s Night expansion and offered them the same modeling rate he’d offered Tristan. Annie messaged back immediately, saying, Hey, Bossman. I’d do that shit for free, but if you’re paying… Hell yeah, I’m in.
Clover was far less of a night owl. He figured he’d hear back from her in the morning. But now that he had Annie’s consent, he could at least plan on seeing Tristan again soon.
* * * * *
The weekend had never passed so slowly. Though, to be fair, his weekends usually weren’t that different than his weekdays. He spent most of his time working. Of course, right now, all he was working on were drawings of Tristan. He had almost an entire folder of sketches completed by the time the Monday morning meeting with the art and programming departments rolled around.
The day already felt like it was dragging. He hadn’t seen Tristan, yet, and wasn’t sure if he would before they met after work with Annie and Clover. Tristan had arrived at her normal time, but when he’d left his office for the meeting, he’d noticed that her door was uncharacteristically closed. He hoped everything was all right, and she didn’t regret what had happened now that she’d had the weekend to think about it.
Once both teams were assembled and everyone had their coffee, he opened up his laptop and loaded the presentation.
“In this industry, I think we’re all aware of the impact of women in gaming and the fact that there’s a very vocal contingent who make a point of trying to silence them with threats and worse,” he began without preamble. “I can think of several incidents where women who’ve spoken up lately about sexism and diversity in gaming have been doxxed. And, as a result of having their personal information revealed to the public via the internet, some of them have been attacked.”
There were nods all around the table. Good, at least his team was keeping up with what was going on in the world.
“During the last round of surveys, it was brought to my attention that Brecken Games could be trying harder to offer more diversity to its players. So, that’s what we’re going to do with the next expansion for DSN.”
Jeremy, one of the staff artists spoke up. “What about the work we’ve already done? Is that going to be scrapped? Are we starting over completely?”
“Not necessarily. I’ll meet with each of you individually. We’ll go over what you’ve done and what needs to be changed and added.” He looked around the room. “I’d still like the expansion to come out on time. I know that’s asking a lot, but if we can do it, and do it well, your normal release day bonus will be tripled.”
Everyone perked up at that as he’d expected they would.
“I’m going to go ahead and show you the first round of new character drawings, and we can go from there.”
During the slideshow, he reiterated the importance of representation in gaming and also announced plans for representation of other races—not just the in game ones like elves and dwarves—but black, Asian, Latino. Everyone. If Brecken Games was going to embrace diversity, they needed to do it completely.
After the presentation was over, he asked. “Any questions?”
Brandon, one of the programmers, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. I’ve got one. Aren’t you worried that we’re going to lose money taking a risk like this? Games are the way they are because people like them that way. They like white chicks with big asses and bigger tits. Don’t you think this is going to lower the profit margin?”
Rory wanted to punch the smug smile off the guy’s mouth. “I think that some people probably will complain a
bout this. Some might even swear off Brecken Games, entirely. But I also think that we’ll likely get new sales from people who’ve felt marginalized in the past. So, my guess is that it’ll be a wash.” He shrugged. “But if you feel like you’d rather not participate, feel free to bow out now. I’m sure the rest of the team would be more than happy to divvy up your share of the bonus.”
The guy’s self-satisfied expression faded, and he shook his head.
Clover leaned forward. “I think it’ll be more than a wash. I think this is actually going to attract gamers—particularly the ones who play indie games with better representation.”
“It’s possible,” he allowed. “But that’s not why we’re taking this step. We’re doing it because it’s the right thing to do. People complain about wanting things in society to change, but very few are willing to do anything to help change them. I want us to be the company that does.”
Clover smiled, looking happier than he’d ever seen her.
Yes, this was going to be a lot of work, but it would be worth it. Even if they lost some sales along the way. And he had Tristan to thank for that realization.
“Jeremy, since you brought up currently finished work, I’ll meet with you first.”
The other man nodded. “I’ll go get everything pulled together.”
“Can I be next?” Clover asked.
“Sure.” Hopefully, he’d stay busy enough today to keep from obsessing about Tristan and the meaning of her closed door.
Chapter Eleven
A knock on her door startled Tristan from her thoughts. She didn’t know whether to hope it was Rory or hope it wasn’t. Either way, she probably wasn’t going to be happy. “It’s not locked,” she forced herself to call out.
Clover stuck her head around the door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Tris said, leaning back in her chair. “What’s up?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your door closed.”
Tris waved off her friend’s concern. “I’m just fighting a headache, so I thought I’d keep the noise to a minimum.”
Clover frowned and took a step back. “I won’t bug you, then.”
“It’s okay. Come sit. How was the meeting?” She was pathetic. This was the adult version of the schoolyard game that girls played, asking each other about their crushes and trying to figure out whether or not their crushes liked them back by attempting to assign meaning to every random thing they did or said—whether it involved them or not.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Clover gushed, flopping in the chair in front of Tris’ desk. “What the hell happened between you two?”
Heat crept up Tristan’s chest to her cheeks. “What do you mean?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as strangled as she was afraid it did.
“He must have taken your survey suggestions to heart. He wants not only new, more realistic females available as playable characters, but he also wants more actual human races represented. I’ll actually get to play as a Chinese woman—do you have any clue how hugely awesome this is? I hardly ever see myself represented in the gaming word. Oh, and get this—he wants all the upgrades completed in time for the new expansion’s advertised release date.”
“Seriously? Is there enough time to accomplish all that?”
“It’s not going to be easy, but he offered us triple our normal release day bonus if we get it done on time. There’s no one on the team who’ll fuck up that opportunity.”
“Seriously?” she repeated and did some quick math in her head. She supposed he could afford it, but damn.
“And, now, he wants to use me and Annie as models—how crazy is that?” Clover shook her head. “But, you’d already know that since he said you’ll be teaching us to sword fight. Duh. And how do you even know how to do that? You’re just full of all kinds of hidden depths.”
“Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s me. A deep well of secrets and mystery.”
“So, you modeled for him the other night?”
Tristan nodded.
“How was he?” Clover asked, leaning forward. “Any signs that he’s as kinky as his reputation suggests?”
Tristan felt the shadow of Friday night’s spanking as she shifted nervously in her seat. It didn’t hurt, anymore. But she was still very, very conscious of everything that had taken place in the office next door. It was as if all her nerve endings were hyper-sensitized, and she was overly aware of every place he’d touched her. She cleared her throat. “He was fine. Nothing unusual happened. Except that he fights dirty. I had him pinned, and he knocked me on my arse after the match was over.”
Clover studied her carefully. “Are you sure? You don’t really seem like yourself today.”
The truth was, she wasn’t really herself. She’d seen sides of Rory she hadn’t known existed. Now, she was left wanting things that weren’t hers to have.
“Because if he hurt you somehow, or made you feel uncomfortable or anything, I’ll kick his ass myself. I don’t care if he is my boss and just offered me a fuck-ton of money.”
“Everything is fine with him, I promise. I’m sure it’s just this headache. I probably need some caffeine.”
“I was gonna head down to the break room and hook up an IV so I can just mainline the coffee while I’m working. How about if I bring you a cup? Hopefully, it’ll help your head.”
Tris smiled at her friend. “That would be great. I’d really appreciate it.” Particularly, since she didn’t want to chance running into Rory. She’d have to see him soon enough.
“Cool. I’ll be back with your caffeine in a few.”
“Thanks, hon,” she said with a smile. As soon as Clover closed the door, Tris shut her eyes and rubbed her temples. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Rory. She did. Badly. That was the problem. And she was afraid it would show. He’d made it perfectly clear that their encounter had been a one-off. Nothing more.
It wasn’t like she was looking for a relationship. But she wouldn’t mind getting laid more than once every twelve to eighteen months. And she really wouldn’t mind a-co-workers-with-benefits thing with Rory. It wasn’t like she was going to be stupid enough to fall in love with him or anything. She’d done a lot of moronic things in her life, but she refused to let this be another one.
When the knock sounded on her door again, she didn’t bother opening her eyes and just called, “Come in.”
“Are you okay?”
Her eyes flew open at the sound of Rory’s voice. His eyes were clouded with concern, and he set her coffee down in front of her.
“Clover said you had a headache, but you look miserable.”
She cleared her throat. “I’m…okay. It’s just a headache. I’m sure it’ll go away before the shoot tonight.”
He frowned. “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you. Do you need to go home?”
She knew the fact that he was concerned about her didn’t make her special. He’d offer that to any of his employees. But the sentiment warmed her, anyway. Because she was stupid. And back to wanting things she shouldn’t have.
“No,” she finally answered. “I’m sure the caffeine, the Advil I popped a while ago and this,” she indicated her hands on her temples, “will help.”
“Did you activate your pressure points?”
“My what now?”
He set his own cup on her desk and moved to stand behind her. “Here, let me.”
Gently replacing her hands with his, he began by rubbing her temples in firm circles.
“Why does it always feel so much better when someone else does this?” she asked, eyes closed and tension beginning to leave her body. Technically, she should still be tense. Not only was he standing too close, he was also touching her.
“There are certain pressure points in your body that will help alleviate pain and other conditions when they’re pressed properly. That typically involves firm pressure. Just hold still for me?”
He pushed steadily on her temples and held it for several long seconds. Then, he carded his fingers through her hair, rubbing her scalp and working his way to the back of her skull. It was impossible not to groan as he massaged her head.
“Sorry,” she murmured, color rising to her cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize. I like the sounds you make.”
He said it matter-of-factly. Before she had time to try to read anything into that, he pushed his thumbs into the base of her skull. It was almost painful, but when he let up, the ache in her head had all but vanished. His hands slid to her neck and shoulders, and he worked against the tightness there.
“Try to relax a little.”
She tilted her head back then stretched her neck forward as he squeezed and kneaded down between her shoulder blades and back up her neck again. He combed through her hair, stroking her scalp with his fingertips before pushing those spots at the base of her skull one last time. When he removed his hands, the pain was gone.
Tristan tilted her head from side to side, stretching out her neck muscles. “That was amazing. I feel so much better. Where did you learn to do that?”
He moved to the front of her desk and picked up his coffee mug. He was quiet so long; she’d wondered if she’d stepped on a landmine that littered the field of having had a one-night stand with one’s boss. She should have thought this through better. This was going to be a near impossible deathtrap to navigate.
He looked down at the floor then at her then, finally, out the window. “I learned acupressure to help my mom with the migraines she got as a result of her stroke.”
She never knew what to say when people revealed something painful, and she always ended up feeling like a jerk—feeling as though she’d say the wrong thing. “I’m sure she appreciated that you did that for her,” she finally offered.
Rory’s lips lifted into a reasonable impression of a smile, but it was clear it wasn’t genuine. “I’m not sure she was even aware. I mean, she was aware of the pain stopping since she’d stop crying then, but I’m not sure she realized it was me.”