EDGED
TALLULAH
The buzzing began again. I dug my fingers into Nick’s arm, gripping him for dear life. “Wh—what—?”
“They’re vibrating panties.” A slow smirk curved his lips. “You wanted to use a sex toy.”
Disbelief coursed through me. My eyes darted to the glass windows, to the diners inside. I ducked my head, my dark hair a curtain from the audience. My hands were shaking. The vibrations felt so fucking good.
“Nick,” I whispered. “This is public.”
“Also on your list.”
“This—this isn’t what I meant—”
“You want another thing to add into your calendar?” he teased. “Tomorrow, get fucked. Today? Something public, but not too public, because that wouldn’t check it off your list. Just public enough. Semi-public?” He shifted closer. “Would you, Tallulah Walker, be satisfied with barely public?”
The taunting made me fumble with my words. “Hush.”
“Or what? You’ll blush harder?”
“Shut up.”
“Tallulah, that’s not nice. That’s not polite.”
I was flustered. “You—you—shut up.”
“Remind me, what’s the safe word?”
My lips clamped shut. This was a shock in the very literal sense of the word but there was no way I’d back out from this. It felt too good. Sexual tension crackled between us, and I did want this. I stared hard at him, goosebumps covering my body from the low hum in my panties.
“You’re at a one,” he said. “Let’s bring you to a four.”
With a tap on his phone, I lurched forward, the buzzing intensifying to actual vibrator-levels between my legs. My core clenched, thighs pressed together. “Oh, fuck—”
“While I have you…” Nick took a swig of his beer. “I don’t believe your speeches against nicknames. There’s something that turns you on. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
I held on to his arm with everything I had. “Nicknames are embarrassing—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You know what I mean! How weird would it be if I called you Daddy?”
A beat passed, a lapse in the conversation, Nick’s eyes flickering to mine with that same intense gaze. Another sick thrill rushed through me. Did Nick like that? Oh my god, I’d found a cheat code in the game we were playing. Raw satisfaction took hold of me.
“You like when girls call you that?”
“Certain things are turn-ons in the moment,” he drawled. “If I have a hot girl in vibrating panties, yeah, I’m hard when she uses a nickname associated with domination.”
“Domination? Oh, please.”
“Yeah. Domination. I know that, because I didn’t force myself into this repressive—”
“Repressive?!”
“—tiny box,” he finished. “Like you did.”
“I—I didn’t repress myself—”
“It’d be different if you don’t want sex, but you do. I’ll take a wild guess. Fridge was your third—eh—second guy you’ve slept with. Neither satisfied you the way you wanted them to, and you did—let’s see—nothing about it. You gave up.”
“Fuck you.”
He smirked. “I’m right, huh?”
The dig made me want to give one back. “You’re a college hockey player. You’re nobody’s Daddy.”
His eyes flashed. “Yeah?’
“Yes.”
“What if I told you the only way I’m turning this app off is if you call me Daddy for the rest of the day?”
“It’ll be a day of endless disappointment for you,” I breathed out.
“You’re being a brat.”
“And?”
“It gets me off. Let’s bring you up to a seven.”
I almost collapsed to the table. The only thing that kept me upright was gripping his arm between my hands. This sensation was a true, unrelenting vibrator. Inside, I was building towards something unexpected, a wave crashing into me, a crescendo.
“You’re too embarrassed to figure out what you like to be called,” Nick said casually. “So I’m going to do it for you. Baby? Honey? Mm, no.”
“You’re wasting your time,” I panted.
“Princess? Sunshine? Nah, not your style.”
“There’s nothing—”
“There’s something. I know there is.”
Nick was wrong. I knew he was wrong because I knew those things about myself. Beads of sweat dotted the back of my neck while Nick watched me.
“You’re all mine, Tallulah,” he murmured, his voice rough. His dark eyes were so dreamy, it was easy to get lost in them. “The plans I have for you? Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck your head up so good, you’ll know your pussy belongs to me.”
The internal temperature of my body skyrocketed.
My brain was already working overtime because of the teasing, the rooftop bar, and the vibrator—it couldn’t handle sweetheart. What was it? The husky way he said it? The fact that I knew Nick meant it? The soft nickname paired with the filthy, obscene things we were discussing?
I whimpered, completely involuntary.
“Found it,” he said, so fucking satisfied.
“I—I—”
“It’s sweetheart, huh?”
I bit my lip, silent, as shock settled into me. I couldn’t believe it. Nick proved me wrong.
The door opened, and the vibrations stopped with a click from Nick’s phone. I hid myself as best as I could, forcing myself to calm down through the five layers of blushes and excitement electrifying me.
“Ma’am?” the waiter said, his tone polite. I finally glanced up. I had no idea what I looked like but his mouth fell open, taking me in. “Holy shit.”
My blush darkened. Nick shifted forward, his voice hard. “What’d you say?”
“I—I, nothing,” the waiter quickly replied.
“Could’ve sworn I heard something.”
“No, no, no, I apologize if—uh—” The waiter slid my poke bowl in front of me. In four strides, he left, swearing under his breath by the door.
What was that about? I faced Nick again. “Do I—?”
“You’re blushing, you’re turned on, you’re not wearing a bra,” Nick said, his tone gentle. It was like he wanted to stop the anxious questions before they started. “Sexy doesn’t cover it. You look fucking appetizing.”
I flushed. “Oh.”
“Eat, sweetheart.” He pushed my bowl closer. “You need to eat.”
I couldn’t believe how quickly my body responded to the nickname. It was proof that I’d been wrong. I was wrong. My pride was stung. I couldn’t believe he’d get to lord this over me and I still didn’t get to cum.
“Am I allowed to eat?” I huffed.
He smirked. “Why don’t you bend over, and I’ll show you who deserves to eat?”
“Ugh,” I mumbled, rubbing my thighs together. I had too much dignity to grind against the chair, and not enough dignity to pretend like I didn’t want to. “Are you going to start it up again…?”
“Right now? Nope. I like the suspense of you not knowing when I’ll click the button.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Mm-hmm. Way more fun.”
“Nick—I am teetering on an orgasm—you can’t edge me—”
“We’re in public, Tallulah.” he said in mock-surprise. “Watch your language.”
My dignity vanished. “You did this to me!”
“You’re coming to one of my away games.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I want you in my jersey, in the crowd—I want to fuck you in a hotel after I win a game.” I started to explain why I couldn’t, but he didn’t let me finish—again. He pointed at my meal. “Eat. Don’t argue with me.”
“You want me to come to a game?” I snipped. “Do you need the validation that badly?”
“From you? Yeah, sweetheart. I crave it.”
I finally acquiesced and took a bite of my poke bowl. It was impossible to stay irritated with him. The food was delicious, my next mocktail was amazing—a pineapple and lime concoction that made my tongue feel tingly—the lunch itself was perfect.
And the longer it lasted, the more the edging evolved into something else.
A long pique of sensitivity.
My body was on high-alert. The more I let it happen, the more I realized it wasn’t a bad thing. I felt so much.
I found myself lounging in my chair like Nick, doing nothing but feeling. The slight breeze in my hair, the breath between my lips, my martini glass, sweating with condensation, cool to the touch.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling so much before.
Nick wove his fingers through mine, slower, softer, the pads of his fingertips rubbing my palm. I breathed out, watching him touch me.
I wanted sex so badly, I could scream, and in its absence, I’d reached a pleasure that bordered on agony.
I would’ve never guessed how much fun this could be.
Nick’s phone rang from the table, shattering the peaceful silence. He checked it, confused, and froze. Nick’s lazy smirk vanished. His eyes jumped between me and the screen.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Nick?”
“It’s—” He hesitated. “It’s Tomasini.”
I straightened up instantly. “Why is he calling you?”
“Asshole was supposed to call me three days ago,” he muttered, staring down at the screen. “I was waiting for it. He does this shit on purpose, I know he does.”
Nick put his phone away, I couldn’t believe it. “Aren’t you going to take the call?”
“I’ll call him later—”
Call him later? I’d learned so much more about Tomasini.
His temper was infamous among the people working for the Olympics.
Nick had assured me that Tomasini was only attached to the Blades by name.
He would be too busy with the Olympics to be involved with them.
I knew that, but I didn’t want something bad to happen to Nick because of a missed phone call.
“Nick, I promise it’s fine—”
“Hell no. We’re having lunch—”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Tallulah—”
“What if it’s important?”
“This is important.”
I touched his arm. “Nick? Please? Take the call.”
Nick hesitated, glancing down at his phone, still ringing.
His mouth twisted. “Fuck. Give me five minutes, okay?” He pushed to stand and cupped my face to kiss my forehead.
“We’re not done—” His voice dropped to a bitter mutter at the door.
“The one day I don’t want anybody to bother me—” He opened the door. “Five minutes, Tallulah!”
His concern that I’d suddenly leave lunch was pretty cute. I bit back another smile, taking in the empty glasses, cleaned plates, and the buzz under my skin. The reality of what we were doing sank in.
I was part of this. Me, Tallulah Walker, I wore vibrating panties out to lunch.
It was dangerous, and unbelievable, and fun.
Fuck reliable. Fuck dependable. This was way better.
For the first time in my life, I found someone I could actually relax around and enjoy myself. I was pleased as could be.
I didn’t hear the glass door open again but I certainly heard the new voice when it echoed. “Tallulah?”
My stomach dropped as I stared at the person I’d met only just this morning.