Chapter 15 #2
My body felt like a live wire. One touch, and I was liable to explode. I pushed down on my cock, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Secretly hoping maybe she would.
Because holy fuck, had she been right. The scene wasn’t about the masked man in the forest; it was about the chase, the suspense and anticipation, the hunt.
And when he’d caught her, the things he’d done to her… Fuck.
And listening to Bryn read about them… I was about to come in my pants, and she hadn’t even touched me.
She stopped reading, closing the book slowly.
“Wait.” I was hanging on her every word, and she was just going to stop? “What happens next?”
She laughed. “I guess you’ll have to read it to find out.”
I tilted my head. Touché. I chuckled. “I guess I will.”
“Truth or dare?” she asked. I’d been so caught up in the story, I’d forgotten all about the game.
I pressed my hands to my thighs. “Dare.”
She tapped her phone. She grinned then rolled her lips between her teeth, watching me out of the corner of her eye.
“What is it?” I asked.
She showed me the screen where the dare was displayed.
No hands.
Turn someone on without touching them. How you do it is up to you, and the recipient can decide how to prove that your efforts have worked.
“If that had been your dare just now, you would’ve aced it,” I said.
“Really?” she asked, and I noticed that her eyes darted quickly to my crotch then back to my face.
“You didn’t touch me. And I can prove that your efforts worked,” I rasped.
She smirked. “Good to know I aced a dare that wasn’t even mine. I guess it’s your turn now.”
I thought about all the things I might do to turn Bryn on without touching her.
I considered using dirty talk, but I thought it would be more impactful if we were touching or almost touching.
I thought about what other senses I could invoke beyond touch or hearing.
Taste was out as well, at least if it involved my tongue on her skin like I was currently imagining.
But I had vision and hearing to play with.
I thought about how Bryn had lit up when we’d danced together at the beach bar.
How surprised and impressed she’d been. I thought about her burlesque act and how she’d slowly seduced me without touch, without even removing any clothes, apart from a hat and wrap.
I scrolled through the music on my phone, looking for the perfect song.
I settled on one with a good beat—not too fast. It had a sultry feel and lyrics that connected.
Sure, I’d taken some dance classes when I’d lost that bet with Gabe or throughout my career to help with my flexibility, but never anything that had involved a striptease.
I stood as the music started playing. I had no idea what I was doing, but I kept my eyes locked on Bryn’s as I moved my body to the beat.
I remembered how she’d looked at me last night, connected with me during her burlesque “audition.” And honestly, that had been one of the hottest parts, besides seeing her embrace her confidence and sensuality.
I slowly unbuttoned the top few buttons of my dress shirt, letting the music flow through me. I was more nervous than I’d been for my first NHL game. If Bryn wanted me to stop, all she had to do was say so. But she didn’t, so I unbuttoned the rest, leaving my dress shirt hanging open.
Bryn grinned but quickly tried to hide her smile behind her hand.
I shook my head and tsked. “If you get to watch me, I get to watch you.”
Her breath caught, and the temperature rose even more. I took my time, seducing her with every look, every move. I might not be able to touch her, but I was going to make damn sure she could imagine my hands all over her body.
I continued dancing, pushing past any embarrassment or insecurities.
They all faded away when she was looking at me like that.
It was almost as if she was seeing me for the first time.
It was fucking exhilarating, the way she watched me with a mixture of disbelief and desire.
I’d never hoisted the Cup over my head, though that had been a lifelong goal of mine.
But even if I had, I couldn’t imagine that it would even come close to this.
I strode toward Bryn, eyes locked on hers. I dropped to the ground, muscle memory pushing me into some of the warm-up stretches I ran through before a game. I took a split position, enjoying the way her mouth popped open in surprise.
Without my bulky pads on, my flexibility was even better, and I used that to my advantage. I moved to my knees, sliding them in a circular stretch that made it look as if I were rolling my hips to hit just the right spot.
“Holy shit,” Bryn mouthed.
Her reactions emboldened me to continue, to push the line even more. I was determined to drive her as crazy as she made me.
I lifted my undershirt, giving her a peek of my abs, flexing my arms, my core. When the music shifted, I slowly dragged my hands over my lips, down my chest, past my cock. Her eyes tracked my every move, and I imagined what it would feel like to have her hands trace that same path.
I pulled my shirt up again, doing a few body rolls as I slowly lifted the material higher and higher. Her breathing grew ragged, and I tugged the shirt over my head before tossing it aside. When I saw her expression, I was so damn close to saying forget the dare and begging her to touch me.
“Damn, Bear. If this hockey thing doesn’t work out, you might have a shot with Magic Mike in Vegas.”
I chuckled low and deep, pleasure coursing through me. All this time, I’d held back with her. But I wasn’t now, not anymore.
I dropped to the deck, sliding on my knees toward her in a move that was half crawl, half prowl. I traced up her legs without actually touching her, over her stomach, still hovering. Her chest. She sucked in a jagged breath, and my chest puffed up with a potent mixture of pride and satisfaction.
The entire time, our eyes were locked, and that was the hottest part of all. The connection. The intimacy. I’d never let myself be this vulnerable with anyone, but I trusted Bryn.
I stood, rolling my hips a few times as I catalogued her reactions. Flushed skin. Parted lips. Wide eyes.
I might be the one putting on a show, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
Standing once more, I smoothed my hand down my chest until I reached my waist. The dare had been fairly vague—turn the other person on without touching them. It hadn’t specified for how long or how far to take it. I was taking my cues from Bryn, and she was definitely into it.
Still, I didn’t want to push too far, too fast. But I decided to test the waters. I slowly unbuttoned my pants, letting them rest loosely on my hips as I gauged Bryn’s reaction. Her lips were parted, eyes drinking me in.
Fuck yes.
And now for a little tease.
I moved so I was standing behind her chair then leaned over to rasp, “I can’t touch you, but if I could, I’d start with your lips.”
She gripped the sides of the chair. “What about my lips?”
“I’d devour them because I’ve been dying for another taste.” I imagined doing just that. “I’d get drunk on you, kissing until our lips were swollen. And then I’d kiss your neck.” I leaned in so she could feel my breath on her skin. “I’d trace your collarbone with my tongue.”
“Where else?” she asked, pressing her thighs together.
I was pretty sure I could’ve stopped then, and I would’ve accomplished the dare. But I didn’t want to stop.
“Where would you want me to touch you?” I asked.
“Everywhere,” she breathed.
“Your stomach?”
“Yes.” It almost sounded like a hiss.
“Backs of your knees,” I offered. When she nodded, I said, “The insides of your thighs.”
“Where else?” she asked, impatient.
“Between your thighs,” I said.
“More,” she groaned, and my knees weakened.
I moved so I was facing her. Her skin was flushed, eyes glazed over. I straddled her chair, still dancing. Still so close to touching her but not quite.
“I can’t touch you,” I panted, as if I’d just completed a bag skate. “But you’re welcome to touch me.”
She peered up at me, and I wished I could capture this moment and lock it in my mind forever. She lifted her hands to my chest, her expression one of fascination. Her touch was delicate, and yet I felt it as if it were a brand on my skin. Singeing me as fire surged through my veins.
When she dragged her fingers back down my torso, I shuddered. My cock was fucking hard—it had been all night. And I felt as if it could pound through ice. And then Bryn hesitated above my waistline, fingers poised to unzip my pants and finish the job I’d started.
Fuck. Me. Was she really going to do it? All the blood left my brain, fleeing south. I was light-headed at the prospect.
She peered up at me from beneath her lashes. “Dare me.”
I cupped her jaw. “I’m done playing games, Bryn. I want you.”
She looked down then slowly met my gaze, a coy smile playing at her lips. “I want you too, Frasier.”
Relief, excitement, and adrenaline surged through me. I crouched down, my smile meeting her smile as I pressed my lips to hers. She looped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, eliminating the space between us.
Unlike our other kiss, neither of us had consumed any alcohol. We had no audience, no pretense. This kiss was real and raw and aching. We tangled and tempted and teased each other, until we drew apart, panting.
“I’ll take that to mean I completed the dare to your satisfaction?” I asked, my body humming.
Her eyes darkened, tongue darting out to lick her swollen lips. “Touch me and find out,” she husked. Followed by the unspoken words, I dare you.
I groaned, releasing her. She smelled so good. Tasted even better. And her coy smile was going to be my undoing. I took a step back, trying to compose myself before I blew my fucking load.
She gave my erection a pointed look. “That looks painful.”
I grunted. She had no fucking idea.
I’d wanted her for so long. And to have her like this—finally looking at me like that—was everything.
She reached out and crooked a finger through my belt loop.
I kept my hands at my sides, clenched to keep myself from grabbing her.
I channeled the type of patience I used during an intense game.
When I was on the ice, I had to react, but I also had to wait.
I was always at the ready, but if I moved too early, if I tried to anticipate my opponent, I could end up letting in a goal instead of keeping it out.
So even though I wanted to lunge for Bryn, I waited.
Slowly, she met my eyes, seeking permission. I nodded. Fucking granted. Fucking yes.
She hesitated, and I held my breath. It was like the final moments of overtime in the play-offs. My fate would be decided in the next breath. I would feel the agony of defeat as the puck slid past me and into the net. Or I would feel ecstasy as we clinched a win.
Whatever the result, it was up to Bryn now. Regardless of what she chose, I would always be there for her. That would never change.
Do it, I silently chanted, begging her to take that next step.
My breath shuddered, and then she pushed my pants down over my hips, dragging my boxer briefs along with them. My cock bobbed toward my stomach, hard and desperate for her touch. Her mouth. Her cunt.
I’d imagined this moment countless times. And somehow it was even better.
“Je-sus…” she whispered, dragging out each syllable as she stared at me with something akin to awe.
When she leaned forward, I could see straight down her dress. And unlike before—at the rehearsal dinner—I wasn’t going to be a gentleman. I looked my fill, admiring her breasts, wondering what they’d feel like in my hands.
Hopefully I wouldn’t have to wonder much longer.
“I want to touch you.” I swallowed hard. “I need to touch you.” If I sounded desperate, I didn’t care.
She shook her head, and my stomach dropped. But then she said, “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”
“You do take care of me—”
She gave me a brief, searing kiss. And it silenced me. “Please, Frasier.”
As if I could say no to her. Especially not when she was looking at me as if I was the object of her every desire.
She took me in her hand, and my knees buckled. Holy fuck. Bryn was touching me. And it felt so fucking amazing. I grabbed on to the back of a chair, somehow managing to remain upright. But only just barely.
I smoothed my hand over her shoulder, marveling at the softness of her skin.
I skimmed my fingers along her collarbone, keeping my touch light even as my hand shook.
When I came to the strap of her dress, I paused, seeking confirmation.
She met my eyes, and I held her gaze as I slid the strap down her shoulder.
I closed my eyes briefly, cursing under my breath. I was still in disbelief that this was real. She was real. And beautiful. And allowing me to see her this way.
I caressed her breasts, feeling their weight. Soft. Smooth. Full. “Perfection.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted ever so slightly. My breath caught. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything more stunning. But when she took the tip of me into her mouth, my eyes rolled back into my head.
“Fuck, angel.” I continued touching her, exploring her. “You…” I shuddered. “You have no idea how good that feels.” How long I’ve wanted this.
She took me deeper, using her hand to caress what wouldn’t fit in her mouth. I nearly choked at the sensation. Warm. Wet. Perfect.
My muscles clenched, and I was trying so hard not to completely blow this. But it felt so damn good.
“Fuck, Bryn,” I coaxed, threading my fingers through her hair.
She was setting the pace, not me, her blue eyes watching me the entire time. She tapped my thigh twice, checking in. I tapped her back twice.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Oh my god. Look at you.” I clenched my fists, my stomach tightening. It was too much. She was so beautiful, and I was so gone for her. I’d dreamed of this so many times, and now it felt like it wasn’t even real. “Fuck.”
I was quickly losing control of the situation. And then when she started touching herself…
It was tempting, oh-so tempting, to come. But I refused to come before Bryn.
I gave her shoulder a squeeze, and she popped off me. She peered up at me with such trust, her lips pink and swollen from sucking my cock. I grinned down at her, my cock leaking. I kicked my pants aside, and then I tugged on her hand, pulling her to a standing position.
“But I wasn’t done.” She pouted.
“Angel, in no world would I ever allow myself to come before getting you off at least once.”
I cupped her cheeks, resting my forehead against hers. It felt so good to be able to touch her like this. Be with her like this. And I promised myself that I would show her just how good we could be together.