Chapter Seven
The subtle smell of cherries surrounds me, and a tender warmth cups my body. I dip my head into the soft waves, chasing that comforting scent. My hands curl around the heat source, desperate to keep it near. Something brushes against my dick, and I groan, my grip tightening.
The responding light moan has awareness flooding through my body.
As my eyes flutter open, I wonder if I’m still dreaming. Sydney’s back is curled against my chest, her pert ass a hairsbreadth away from my cock. The slightest movement has it grazing my slowly stiffening length.
My entire body freezes.
Everything in this exact moment is a fucking wet dream come true.
I haven’t moved an inch all night. I’m not a restless sleeper; in fact, I sleep like the dead when I do. Which is how I know that it was Sydney dearest who somehow made her way from one end of the bed to the other during the night.
A distraught beeping fills the room, and my arms flinch in response.
Sydney’s eyes pop open as her body jerks to attention.
Her head swivels and wide eyes meet my own. A range of emotions crash over her before she settles on panic. She scrambles out of my arms, leaving nothing but loss behind.
I blindly reach behind me for my phone, slapping it a few times before successfully shutting off the incessant blaring.
“Where are your clothes?” Sydney’s look is one of pure horror.
“I’m wearing briefs.” I lift the sheets to show her.
Her stormy gaze travels down my body. It lingers low for a beat too long, and I can’t keep the smirk off my face. I’ve never been ashamed of my body, and the way Sydney’s taking her time cataloging every inch of my skin only bolsters my confidence.
“You can take a picture. Keep it for nights when you miss me,” I tease.
She sucks in her cheeks, gaze immediately bouncing to my eyes before flicking to the window behind me.
“You were wearing clothes last night.”
“I was.” I sit up and rest my arms behind my head on the headboard. “Then I had a shower and I took them off.”
“I would remember getting into bed with a naked man.” She tries to pin me with a glare but fails as her eyes stray to my biceps.
“Again, not technically naked.”
“Why would you sleep in just your underwear?” She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing attention to the hard nipples poking through the white silk pajama top.
I refrain the urge to readjust my cock.
“Because I figured you’d take offense if I did sleep naked. Commando is my preferred sleeping attire.” I wink.
Her pillowy lips part, and she can’t stop her gaze from straying. The bed sheets still cover the lower half of my body, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell where she is looking. Her small hands tighten around her biceps.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to have those delicate fingers wrapped around my cock.
“Whatever. I saw enough of your penis the other night, I don’t need to see it again,” her button nose wrinkles in feigned distaste. “It wasn’t that impressive anyway.”
Liar.
But if she wants to play that game…
“Sydney, love. I think you’re mistaken. I can show you again, just to be sure.” I fling the bedsheet away and ignore the cold air as I toy with the edge of the band around my briefs.
Sydney pitches forward screaming, “Don’t you dare!” as she throws her hands out to stop me.
She realizes her mistake too late, though.
I also realize my own mistake, for a totally different reason.
Sydney’s hands are on my cock.
Heat flushes her cheeks, and her doe eyes widen dramatically. Blood rushes directly down my length and my balls tighten. I can feel her fingers jolt through the soft fabric, and my dick twitches in response.
My earlier prayer has been answered in a bit of a roundabout way.
Sydney’s phone begins to ring on her nightstand, crashing reality back down. Her hands rear back, and her fingers curl into her palms like she just touched a hot plate. Her melted gaze hardens back to its default setting of professional disinterest.
“I have to take this. You should get ready. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
She doesn’t even check the caller ID, just swipes accept and jumps out of the bed.
Her steps are smooth as she strides to the balcony and unlocks the door, stepping out into the cold.
The little night shorts she is wearing do nothing but hug the globes of her ass. I afford myself an extra few seconds admiring them before forcing myself out of bed.
My dick is rock hard. There’s no hiding it.
Fuck.
I run a hand down my face as I turn the shower blistering hot and step under the scalding spray.
The burning water does nothing to drown out the noise in my brain. The last ten minutes just play on a loop.
Sydney’s perfect lips. Her smooth skin. Her round ass. Her soft fingers.
I brace my forearm on the wall as I grip my heavy cock.
I give it a quick pump, and the pleasure is immediate.
“Fuck,” I groan under my breath.
My hand starts moving on its own, fisting my dick at a slow rhythm. My eyes close, and all I can see is Sydney. This wouldn’t be the first time I got off thinking of her. But it would be the first time with her so close.
I imagine, what if she walked in? What if she joined me? If she strolled right into this shower, that silky night set becoming drenched in the spray. It would stick to the curves of her small body, hugging her juicy ass and tiny tits. I think of her getting to her knees before me and taking me between those soft lips.
My forehead falls against the wall as my pace quickens. It’s no longer my hands fucking my dick but her throat. The vision, the fantasy, blooms in my mind.
“Shit,” I mutter deeply, my breath becoming ragged.
My abs clench and my balls tighten right before I come in hot spurts. Pure bliss spreads throughout my body as the last of my come coats my hand. I don’t move for a minute. I just stand there as my chest begins to even out and the high lessens. I step back fully under the water and allow it to wash away the evidence.
I feel a lot better.
I feel like I could conquer the world. Which is good because that’s exactly what I need to do in a few hours.
Finally, I get out of the shower and dry off a little before wrapping a towel around my waist. I brace my hands against the sink, letting my hair drip onto the marble.
There’s a knock on the door followed by, “Hey, can I come in?”
My dick begins to stir again at the sound of Sydney’s honey-sweet voice.
Not the fucking time, lad.
I take a deep breath and force the tension to leave my body.
“Sure.” My voice comes out with a slight husk.
Bloody hell.
The door pops open, and the steam is immediately sucked out as I get hit with a cool breeze. Sydney dips her head around the frame and her gray gaze narrows on my body, snagging on the towel low on my hips. She lets out a small huff before walking in.
“How do you feel about today?”
I give her a noncommittal shrug. “I feel fine.”
“It’s your first time on stage,” she reminds me.
I roll my eyes at her before applying moisturizer to my face. “Syd, I’ve attended more red carpets than I can count. I’ve walked for Prada in Milan and given a speech at a royal wedding in Denmark. This is nothing different.”
“If you say so.”
When I look up, I see concern flash in her eyes. She skirts behind me and comes to stand on my right, reaching for her toothbrush.
I don’t try to keep the conversation going. I don’t want to.
I wasn’t lying when I said I felt fine. I do. But I also know that if I really start to think about it, I’ll get in my head. And that’s the last thing I need.
This isn’t the championship; this isn’t the make-or-break event that has my future on the line. But…it’s close. Each of these matches in the upcoming weeks will define how I move forward. I need to win at least three of them. I know I’m one of the best, but I need to prove that I am the best. And I’ve never done anything like this before.
I grab the hairdryer and turn it on high, letting the noise drown out the growing nerves as I style my hair.
I need to get my head in the game.