Chapter 7
Dani
“ L ower, lower, lower. Good. Yes, that’s it!”
Brock finished his last rep and collapsed onto the couch. I’d brought him through very slow, controlled sets of squats to build strength in his quad muscles, and he’d been doing really well. Me, not so much. Logically, it made sense to do his leg workouts at his place. He needed less weight since he was rehabbing an injury, and the gym just wasn’t always available. Unfortunately, leg day was the sexiest one to watch.
So having it be just the two of us—oh, and Sarg—was not ideal. I’d been trying to keep it professional. I really had. Getting hints that this attraction wasn’t just coming from me made it harder to stick to my guns. Having him be a surprise guest at my dinner out with Josh the other night didn’t help either. The waitress had decided to be funny about my food order. The look on Brock’s face had said it all. He was pissed on my behalf. He could have laughed along or even joined in. Instead, he’d shot daggers at her with his eyes. I was used to this kind of thing. It still felt nice that both Brock and Josh let me handle it myself but didn’t jump on the make-fun-of-Dani bandwagon. I dropped onto the couch next to him. “Good work. How did that feel?”
He was breathing hard, his head leaned back against the couch, eyes closed. Fucking hell, it was so easy to imagine what he would look like if I was straddling his lap. Riding his cock. Panting his name. I needed a time-out.
“Felt like an evil trainer was forcing me to do squats. But the pain was muscle fatigue, not the injury itself. That’s a good sign, right?” He turned his head and looked at me. His eyes always had a mischievous sparkle to them, but I swear it was different when he looked at me.
I nodded.
“Thanks, coach.” He patted my bare thigh, and I felt it right up through my core and around the other side. He left his hand where it was, and we sat in silence for a moment. I didn’t dare move a muscle. Didn’t want him to feel even the slightest flex and think I wanted him to move his hand away. “How is your fight training going, by the way?”
It was taking every ounce of mental strength I had to focus on my training when I had such a fun distraction on my client roster. But I had been doing it. I had goals. I might have taken on Brock as a client and a constant source of spank bank material, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t eating my protein, practicing my strikes, and doing my cardio. “It’s been going well. I might be living with my brother, working twenty-four-seven, and haven’t gotten laid in a year, but I have this one part of my life figured out.” It took a second for me to realize what I’d said, and the words hung heavily between us. Brock was usually a jokester and loved a good laugh. I waited, expecting him to tease me in some way, but instead, his hand flexed a little against my thigh, squeezing the muscle and causing another wave of sensation to burn through my veins.
“I, uh, I don’t live with your brother, but I can relate to the other two problems.” I fought hard not to look in his direction, but I caught how he licked his lips from the corner of my eye. “Working all the time isn’t so bad, but no sex is a problem.” His thumb slid up then down, caressing the soft skin of my inner thigh. I swear I could feel him breathing heavier through where our shoulders were pressed together. Or maybe it was me who struggled to keep my breath in my lungs.
His hand climbed a little higher, and I shifted my thighs wider apart. Not enough to throw up a banner that I wanted his fingers inside. But enough of a sign that if that was what he was aiming for, I was game. So fucking game. I always went commando under my stretchy gym shorts. More range of motion, less panty lines. It was a win-win. Now, though, I was aware of every stitch in the seam that ran over my center. Wishing it was causing less friction or more friction, but not this torturous middle ground.
His hand reached the bottom hem of my shorts, and he toyed with the edge. “I can’t imagine how stressful your training must be. You must be pretty desperate to blow off a little steam.” He turned his head to face me again, and his breath skated over my collarbones, burning hard and hot against my skin. “Or have you been taking care of yourself?” His voice had gotten lower, his mouth closer to my ear.
I shivered.
“Lying in bed at night, your hand finding its way under the blankets.” His lips grazed my shoulder, and goosebumps broke out across my chest. This was one of those moments where I had to make a clear, decisive choice. No waffling. No gray area, just black or white. Yes or no. The logical answer should be no. Right? He was my client. And my brother’s best friend. On the other hand, he was my lifelong crush. A man I’d never thought would be interested in me, but given the way the front of his shorts tented, I knew he wanted me too. “Maybe I could help you out with that?”
“Yes.” The word came out breathy and sounded strange to my ears. But my ears could fuck off. It was time for other places on my body to get some attention. His hand slid higher, and he ran his thumb over the seam that had been driving me crazy since I’d walked in the door. I moaned shamelessly. Lost in a sea of sparkly, warm sensations. He did it a second time, and I turned to face him.
His mouth overwhelmed mine with a hot, open mouth kiss. No point playing around, we both knew the goal of what we were doing. Just a few sweeps of his tongue had my shoulders shuddering. Any second now, one of us was going to figure out this was a dumb-as-fuck idea, and I intended to get off before then. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and shoved them to the floor before swinging my leg over his hip and straddling his lap. All of that flexibility training came in handy.
His eyes lit then became hooded as he adjusted me on his lap. He didn’t speak. He didn’t really have to. It had been way too long since I’d been touched. When his hand grazed the bare skin of my pussy, I was almost done just like that. And life was not usually that kind to me in the orgasm department. This was not going to be an all-hands-on-deck situation. This was going to be over before it even started. His thumb moved through my folds until it settled against my clit, moving up, then down, then in little circles that had me seeing stars. Blindly, I fumbled with the drawstring on his shorts until I broke his dick free from its prison. He had been carefully studying my face, but once my hands landed on the smooth skin of his cock his head fell back. We didn’t kiss. I wasn’t even sure either one of us was breathing. Like the classy bitch I was, I spit into my hands and started moving it rhythmically up and down his shaft, adding his precum to the mix as it beaded on the head.
He slid first one, then two fingers inside of me, and started with the same motion. The heat of his skin between my thighs and the smell of his soap was intoxicating. The fact that after however many years of thinking about this man, I was actually straddling his sexy ass had my mouth hanging open. It hit fast and hard. None of that will I or won’t I shit like my orgasms usually did to me. It was just happening. My toes tingled and curled, my thighs clenched around him, and I wanted him to feel as good as I did. As my vision returned to normal, I planted my hands on his shoulders and pushed myself back until my knees hit the carpet. My list of Brock-related fantasies was long, so the idea of crossing not just finger banging but giving head off the list in one afternoon had me licking my lips and sliding the tip of his dick between them.
“Holy fuck, Dani.” His hands landed softly on my head. Like always, I had my hair pulled tightly back away from my face, but he still scratched his fingers over my scalp, urging me on. With the right partner, I actually really liked giving head. Being on my knees before a man but being so firmly in control was erotic as hell. I didn’t want this to be over too quickly. I teased him a little. Only putting the tip in and then sliding it back out. His entire body was frozen in place. Every muscle clenched tight. I felt him relax a little as I continued with my barely there motions. When he opened his eyes, I held his gaze with mine and licked my tongue from the base all the way to the tip. A strangled cry came from his lips, and I regretted the fact that I hadn’t taken his shirt off. Seeing his bare chest heaving as I danced my tongue over his dick would have been a sight to see. Next time.
“Goddamn, I’m going to come if you do that again.”
“Promise?” Who the hell am I?
He huffed out a strangled laugh, then cut it off when I started to swirl my tongue around the head, clockwise then counterclockwise, flicking my tongue over the little seam in the front every time I changed direction.
“Just like that baby, don’t stop.”
I took his instructions seriously, keeping up the same motion and then speeding it up. God, the taste of his sweat, the way his mouth hung open, and knowing I was the one doing it to him had me shoving one hand between my thighs and circling my clit as I circled his dick. His eyes closed, then flipped open, and he was coming. I swallowed him down, moaning around his cock as my own orgasm hit for a second time. This had to be one of the sexiest experiences of my life, and I didn’t even take my top off.
I leaned against his legs, trying to catch my breath as he slumped on the couch with his cock resting against his stomach. As the post-orgasm high started to fade, reality niggled at the corner of my brain. I was slumped on the floor of my brother’s best friend’s apartment with my pussy out. This was going to be one hell of a walk of shame.