Chapter 37
POPPY
Brookes and Max ended up clinching the W, finishing four strokes under. And as I stand with Max’s caddy, his father, who is beaming all proud like most fathers should be of their son, I’m barely hanging on by a goddamn thread as we watch the trophy presentation.
My smile remains, although I doubt it appears at all genuine, my legs crossed at the ankles, my panties and my under-shorties absolutely wrecked; I am so turned on, I could cry.
I’m like a ticking time bomb, about ready to come at any second.
And unless Brookes wants me to orgasm right here, in front of fans, media, sponsors, and golfing greats, he better not even think about touching that controller because right now, I don’t care—let ’em watch as far as I’m concerned. I’ll be sure to put on a good show.
When Max and Brookes start back up toward the clubhouse, they stop to shake hands with fans, take a few selfies, and all the while I don’t miss the way Brookes glances at me, watching me from the corner of his eye, the hint of the smile ghosting his lips knowing and so smug that if I had a golf ball handy, I’d throw it at his head.
He is so going to pay for this.
“Hey, baby.” Brookes stops by me, pressing a kiss to my heated forehead. I refrain from spearing him with a glower or, I don’t know, punching him in his dick, smiling vapidly like the perfect little golf girlfriend.
“Mr. Connor.” Brookes reaches around me, shaking Max’s father’s hand.
“Great round, Brookes.” Mr. Connor smiles up at Brookes, enamored by him, just like everyone else.
“Thank you, sir,” Brookes says, slapping Max on his shoulder, “but it’s this one right here who was guiding me the whole way. Your boy is destined for greatness.”
Max’s smile is adorably shy and infectious, and I find myself smiling genuinely for the first time today.
But as the men become embroiled in yet another boring golf conversation, I find myself looking out over the dwindling crowd as everyone begins to disperse, wondering if I might be able to sneak off somewhere to… relieve myself.
Suddenly, the damn thing inside me starts vibrating again, a low, steady thrum teasing the one spot deep inside of me that sends a current through my entire body.
I suck in a hard breath, my hand gripping Brookes’ ropey arm, nail purposely digging into his skin through the sleeve of his polo shirt, and I spear him with a what-the-hell look that he intentionally ignores.
“Are you okay, Poppy?” Max asks, his face panicked as he reaches a hand out, touching my shoulder. “It looks like you’re about to pass out.”
From the corner of my eye, Brookes turns the device off, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“I’m fine,” I say, a little too high-pitched and breathless. “I just…” Huffing, I touch a hand to my chest, feeling my heart thunder. “I thought I saw a wasp,” I lie, waving a hand about to swat at the imaginary insect.
Brookes wraps his arm around my waist and I stiffen, feeling his hand barely graze the top of my ass. “Okay, baby, you ready?”
I look up at him, his loaded question lingering, but when I see the fire in his eyes, my stomach bottoms out with the need consuming me, my nod almost frantic because yes, yes, yes. I’m so damn ready.
Taking my hand, Brookes says goodbye, and we head toward the parking lot, my knees barely keeping me upright as my stomach roils with anticipation.
Brookes settles into the driver’s side of his Ferrari, and I stare at him, noticing the shit-eating smirk ghosting his lips, but he won’t look at me, languorously placing his wallet and phone in the center compartment, slipping his ballcap backwards, fastening his seatbelt, checking the goddamn mirrors, and it’s then that I realize he’s taking his sweet-ass time on purpose.
My knee bounces with expectation and frustration. I try to squeeze my thighs together, but it does nothing. The desperation is too much. With a huff, I gape at him and he glances at me, offering a purposely casual smile.
“Can you hurry the eff up?” I grit, folding my arms across my chest.
“Oh, sorry,” he says with a devious chuckle. “You need something?”
I narrow my eyes to slits.
Starting the car, the engine comes to life with a loud, rumbling roar, and I relax back as best as I can. But then the vibrator starts up again, and I snap my head to Brookes, finding him grinning at me with his finger on his watch before pulling out of the parking spot.
Clenching my thighs, I grip the edge of my seat, my head falling back because between the toy deep inside of me and the vibrations of the engine, it’s almost too much.
“Relax baby. No more teasing, I promise,” Brookes assures me, his big hand grabbing my thigh.
“And these windows are so tinted, no one can see in here. You can be as loud as you want to be,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down my sensitive skin, only adding to the overwhelming sensations. “The louder the fucking better.”
“Oh, God…” I cry out, my body writhing in my seat.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” Brookes utters, his hand inching higher and higher up my thigh.
I open my legs enough and he continues north, sucking in a gasp of his own when he meets my center.
“Shit, Pops.” He groans. “Did you come, baby?”
“I… I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe… oh, shit,” I moan, grabbing onto the headrest to brace myself, the tension low in my belly almost too much.
“My beautiful, messy girl,” Brookes rasps, pressing his expert fingers over the soaked material of my under-shorties and panties, right up against my swollen, throbbing clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure and rubbing me just right.
The way the toy sits against the spot inside I didn’t know existed, combined with Brookes circling my clit, I’m so damn close already. I grab my breast, palming myself through my dress, tugging at one aching nipple and then the other, needing more, needing everything all at once.
“You gonna be my good girl and fucking come for me?” Brookes gruffs.
I force my legs open as far as the car will allow, wanting all that I can get, and holding onto his wrist, I practically hump his hand as he continues rubbing me. I’m like a depraved woman, crazy with need.
“That’s it, baby,” Brookes whispers, startling me when he starts to slap my core, sending a flame through me. “Come.”
And I do. I come on command. So damn hard, exploding from the inside, my thighs clamping around Brookes’ wrist. My entire body convulses against my seatbelt as wave after relentless wave tears through me, the vibrator thrumming incessantly, wringing me dry, my scream ricocheting throughout the car as I all but pass out.
When the vibrations finally subside, I’m a boneless, depleted mess, gasping for breath as continuous aftershocks tremor through me.
“Wow…”
I turn my head, my hazy eyes finding Brookes looking at me, entranced.
And all I can do is laugh, half ashamed, half proud because wow is right. What was that? I feel like I just had some sort of out-of-body experience.
Pushing the wisps of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail from my face, I puff air from my cheeks and stretch out, basking in the warmth as it continues rolling through every limb.
“I’m such a mess…” I say after a few silent beats. Looking down at myself, I wince, glancing cautiously at Brookes. “I hope I didn’t ruin the leather?”
“Baby, you can ruin whatever the fuck you want with your cum.” He meets my eyes, and his gaze darkens, his hand squeezing my still twitching thigh.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling so damn hard, and closing my eyes, I relax back again, sinking into the leather, allowing my body to come down from its debilitating high.
“Fuck’s sake.”
I startle, my eyes flying open to see that we’re pulling into Brookes’ driveway. Did I fall asleep? Looking around, I turn to Brookes to find his jaw locked tight, the grip he has on the steering wheel white-knuckled and death-like.
“What’s wrong?”
He juts his chin up ahead, and I crane my neck to see around the trees, making out Cam’s Lamborghini and Blake’s Porsche parked in front of the house. I turn back to Brookes, my brows knitting together. “You didn’t know they were coming?”
He scoffs, gaping at me incredulously. “Does this look like the face of a dude who was expecting company?”
I shrug a shoulder.
“I had every intention of taking you upstairs to my bedroom, stripping off that silly little dress that’s been trying to pick a fight with my self-control all day, and—” He snaps his mouth shut, dragging a hand down his face with a groan.
I ignore the way my belly clenches from his words. “Do they… just let themselves into your house when you’re not here?”
“Yep…” Brookes releases a heavy, resigned sigh and then he looks at me, his face softening a touch. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, dismissing his apology. “You have nothing to be sorry about. But—” I grimace thinking of my words. “I do have a… situation… I need to deal with, like, immediately.” I cast a pointed glance down toward my crotch. “So, I’m going to excuse myself to the shower straight away.”
Brookes groans again, and I try not to laugh.