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Preview from chapter one
Night of No Return. Part 1. "The Game Begins"
I've always known my looks weren't exactly masculine. Not tall, not broad-shouldered — but cute. My figure is more like a girl's: a narrow waist, slender wrists, long legs, soft shoulders, and wide hips, just like a girl's. A face with plump lips, long eyelashes, and smooth skin. I let my hair grow out and usually wore it in a ponytail. In a loose hoodie, from behind I could easily be mistaken for a girl. My voice was soft, not deep. Girls fell for me, and honestly, I could have talked any of them into bed without much effort. Get into a fight? No way — that's not me. I'm not a fighter.
Masha and I worked in the same office. I'd always liked her. I wasn't pining for her, but whenever she walked past, I'd catch myself watching her go. The whole office watched her go. And she, the little tease, was dating Andrei. She showed me his photos once. Well, in the photo he was a hulk of a guy, six-six, burly and muscular, with a simple, dull face — in a word, a paratrooper. Not exactly a fool, but too simple. I think that's why she broke up with him. A couple of days ago. When I found out, I decided: finally, my chance.
That evening at work, in the cafeteria, I'd grabbed some pizza for dinner when I saw Masha. Decision made: I'd make my move. First I just said hi, and then the conversation just kind of flowed. Jokes, light banter. She joked that pizza makes your butt fat. I was getting ready with a witty comeback when she suggested we have a salad instead. Then she looked at me and suddenly said:
"Come over to my place. It's boring being alone. Andrei moved out."
I was so thrilled I nearly dropped my tray.
"Sure, let's go," I blurted out without thinking.
"If you're up for it, should we order sushi?" Masha asked.
"Sure. And let's stop by the store on the way, grab some snacks," I said.
"Whiskey and Coke?" She gave me a questioning look and smiled.
"You're reading my mind."
On the way we stopped at a bar. One cocktail each, then another round. We dissected our coworkers, gossiped about everyone we knew, as if we weren't colleagues but two best girlfriends. After another cocktail the conversation got hotter and more candid. I plucked up the courage and put my hand on her knee. She looked into my eyes with a slow, sultry gaze. I stroked her leg and thigh. She didn't move my hand away. Victory! Inside I was triumphant. Lust was swelling in me. I hinted: maybe we should head out?