Chapter 11
The Slow Race
Tessa
After the guys finish their meeting, we all hang out together.
Sasha, Etain, and I only got as far as facials before the guys emerged from the room they disappeared into earlier.
Flex offers to teach me how to play pool, and I jump at the chance.
It takes me a while to find my rhythm, but I finally hit the ball on my own and get one into the corner pocket.
I’m so pleased that I jump up and down for joy.
Motown, watching from across the room where he sits on a stool by the bar with a beer in hand, laughs out loud.
“I did it!” I exclaim joyfully.
“Yeah, babe. You did,” he agrees, shaking his head. “Only fourteen more to go.”
I hitch a hip and set my hand on it. “Don’t you worry, I’ll sink them all. Then it’s you and me,” I say, throwing down the gauntlet.
“I play for keeps, babe,” he warns, teasingly.
“Doesn’t matter, because I’m going to beat you,” I taunt.
Motown
Tessa’s only kidding, but she’s so adorable, I’m tempted to go over and kiss her stupid.
“Tess, Motown’s the club champion. It’s his game. Before you start making bets, I’d practice a little more,” Flex tells her. “As a matter of fact, he should be teaching you.”
Tessa looks over at me, bats her dark brown eyes, and says in a sugar-sweet voice, “Motown, will you teach me how to play?”
My insides melt at the sound of her voice and pouty expression beckoning for me to go to her. I’m like a moth to a flame. With my beer in hand, I walk to where she’s standing with the pool stick in her hand. I come in close and set my beer on the edge of the table.
“Hand me a stick, Flex.” I stretch out my hand as Flex hands me his. I bend my head to Tessa’s ear. “Okay, baby, I’ll teach you to play. You do exactly as I say.” I feel her body shiver. I take her stick away and set it aside. I line up the ball, then hand her my stick, “Let me see your stance.”
Tessa bends over and positions herself, ready to take her shot. I move in behind her, my front covering her back, my hand over hers. My other hand skims the bare flesh of her shoulder and arm before settling on the stick.
“Your line of sight needs to be right over the pool stick,” I murmur in her ear.
“You have to bend lower.” She does, her ass backing into the hardness in my jeans, feeling my hard cock rubbing up against her.
The minx does a little wriggling, getting her own payback.
I’m tempted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs, not caring one bit who’s watching.
I line up the pool stick and slide it between her fingers. Each motion is its own sexual torture for both of us.
“You’re not playing fair,” she says halfheartedly, looking over her shoulder.
“Just making sure you get the feel of the rod, babe. Controlling the stick is the key to this game,” I reply, not at all talking about the game of pool. Tessa knows it, and her eyes fill with desire. She licks her lips, making my dick ache even more. “Keep your eyes on the ball, Tess.”
Reluctantly, she turns back, and I guide the pool stick through her fingers, hitting the ball and watching it slide into the corner pocket.
“I did it!” she shouts with glee.
“That’s good. Now try it on your own,” I tell her, stepping back.
Tess moves and gets into position. I brush past her, and she totally misses the ball.
She tries again, and this time, I stand across from her and stare right at her breasts, her shirt showing off a hint of cleavage.
She manages to hit the ball, only to have it ricochet off the side of the table and away from her.
“Darn.” She pouts.
I chuckle. “You’re going to need a few more lessons.”
“Like you’re able to sink them all?” she taunts, with a raised brow.
“What’s the prize?” I ask, coming closer and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” I say in a low tone for her ears only.
“Only this time, it’ll be me tying you up and playing with your body until you beg me to fuck you.
Then, when I think you’re thoroughly fucked, I’ll untie you, wrap you in my arms, and hold you all night, with the option to fuck you again and again. ”
She hands me her pool stick. “You’ve got a bet, but if you lose—”
“I won’t lose.”
“If you do…then you have to wait on customers for the next week, including making and serving them tea. In an apron,” she adds with a sexy smirk.
I line up the ball and get the easiest three out of the way.
“I’m thinking how good it’s going to feel to sink my fingers into that tight, wet pussy,” I murmur as I walk past her for my next shot.
I put away two more and move to the end of the table.
Tessa tries to distract me by bending low, pretending to watch the shot I’m going to take and squeezing her breasts together.
My jaw clenches, but I stay on task because the reward at the end is going to be that much sweeter.
One by one, I sink them all, then I pull Tessa flush to my body. “Go to my room. Get naked and wait for me.”
Tessa
With as much composure as I can manage, I let the girls know I’m turning in for the night.
Thankfully, they’ve been too engaged with their own men to notice the game.
When I walk past Motown, I see that he’s watching my every move, like a lion tracking its prey.
Only, his eyes are heated, and I can admit that I want to feel his mouth on me.
The thought of the soft bristles of his whiskers against my skin and his low gravelly voice when he thrusts inside me makes my panties wet.
Once in his room, I turn on the lamp instead of the main light.
I strip naked, as ordered, and sit in the middle of the bed.
In my nervous excitement, I keep shifting around, unsure what to do.
It couldn’t be more than five minutes but feels more like hours when the door creaks open and in walks my man.
He rips his shirt off over his head, kicks off his boots, and undoes the buckle of his belt while watching me.
“On your hands and knees, Tessa, facing the headboard,” he demands. His tone is so smooth and sexy, I think I have a mini orgasm right then and there. I do as I’m told. “Sit up for a minute and show me your hands.” Again, I follow his instructions.
Motown turns and rustles in his drawer searching for something. He pulls something out and turns back to me, then takes a soft red cotton rope and lashes it around my hands. “I’m not tying them tight. I want you to feel safe with me. If this is too much, just say stop, and I will. Okay?”
My first instinct was to tell Motown I wasn’t ready, but when I see how loosely the rope fits around my wrists, I become excited about what comes next.
He ties them to the headboard. He then gently pushes on my shoulders to have me bend down so that my breasts are touching the mattress, forcing my legs farther apart, opening me up so that he sees every inch of me.
His fingers graze over my back, skimming down my spine.
His lips follow, stopping at my shoulders and neck.
He licks that sensitive area at my neck that makes me shiver in anticipation.
He comes close behind me, his lips tracing a path over my back, but his hands mold and massage my breasts, making my nipples taut.
I emit a long sensual moan while his hands work their magic, teasing my nipples, and his tongue explores the curve of my back.
Motown moves his hands lower, gliding over my butt, then the heat of his body disappears, only to have his mouth settle on my core.
I moan, tugging at the rope around my wrists.
Motown grasps my hips pushes me down over his face and continues his onslaught until I plead for his cock.
Instead, he uses his fingers, pumping them in and out fast and furious until I reach the precipice fall over the edge into a blissful orgasm.
He quickly but carefully rolls me so that my back is on the mattress. “That was good, baby, but I’m not done with you yet,” he declares.
Not done with me? I can’t move; my energy is spent from the intensity of the orgasm.
Motown cocks my knees and spreads me wide, running his fingers through the sensitive flesh between my legs.
His mouth finds my nipple, laving one then the other, as his thumb gently rubs my clit.
I let out a moan, arching my back, and a new flash of fire runs through my body.
“I like you like this. All soft and helpless. Thank you for trusting me,” Motown says, then gives me a kiss that I feel down to my bones.
He eases inside me, never breaking our connection, long, slow thrusts that turn the embers into flames.
He grasps my hips, his thrusts coming faster and harder.
His lips leave mine, and in a raw, ragged growl, he says, “I need you to come,” adding a very poignant “now.”
My legs wrap around his waist, as I meet him stroke for stroke, until the blinding light overtakes me, my body convulsing from his lovemaking.
His groan turns into a roar, and I feel him fill me.
Motown yanks at the rope, releasing me. Automatically, I pull him tighter to me, and he rolls us onto our sides, where he molds me against his frame.
My palm lands on his beating heart. He covers it with his own and closes his eyes.
“I’m falling in love with you,” I blurt out.
Motown blinks his eyes open, looking right at me. “I know.”
“It’s too soon,” I murmur. He’s not saying it back, and it’s lonely saying the words out loud and not having them returned.
“Who says? We’ve been dancing around each other since we met,” he answers.
I look at him, confused. “I wanted to walk away that first night, and instead, we raced into bed. It was so fucking phenomenal that I wanted more. I freaked out and retreated, going back to slow, but I couldn’t let you go.
That slow simmer went out the window when I saw that piece of shit walking into your shop.
I want to do right by you and slow down to give you time to think, but babe, that just went out the window too, the second you told me you love me.
” His fingers move the hair away from my cheek, and he dips his head and brushes his lips over mine. “You belong with me.”
It’s not “I love you,” but it’s still beautiful. I give him a smile. “Okay, gorgeous.”
I settle into his arms and close my eyes. I feel his breath on the top of my hair. “Love you too, Tessa.”
My heart skips a beat; I cling to him tighter. My throat is clogged with happy tears that threaten to fall, so I decide that staying silent is best. But he knows his words are having an impact as his arm locks me in place against him.