Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,27

would happen between us. And once I crossed that line, there’d be no going back.

But fuck the line. I’d wanted to erase the damn thing once I’d crossed it, and the only way to do that was to take this chance.

With a haughty tilt of my chin, I locked my eyes on his and said the only words that formed on my tongue, “Let’s go.”

10

Stellan

I wasn’t someone who was easily shocked. Hell, a pig could sprout wings in front of me and fly into the sun and I wouldn’t bat an eye. It wasn’t because I had a hard life or anything like that, I just didn’t get impressed or fawn over materialistic things, and after years of working in body shops and other various jobs, I’d seen my fair share of shadiness. I learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut, so nothing really fazed me anymore.

But Foster had shocked me.

Not with him admitting to me he had never been with a man before. I almost expected that due to his innocence and the way he was easily flustered. No, he shocked me by agreeing to leave with me. I expected him to decline my invitation and make an excuse to run as far away from me as possible. Not to meet my gaze head-on and tell me it was time to go.

I tossed some money on the table—enough to cover both coffees and a generous tip—and stood. After getting in our vehicles, I pulled out of the parking lot first. I checked my rearview mirror, expecting Foster to turn in the opposite direction, the one that’d take him to his apartment, and my eyebrows shot up when he turned behind me. As I continued to head toward my house, I’d periodically check to make sure he was following me, and sure enough he was. But there were many places he could turn around if he changed his mind, so when he parked in the driveway behind me, a bit of hope flared.

Maybe he wanted this as much as I did, or maybe this was an experiment for him to explore his sexuality and it’d blow up in both our faces. Luckily for both of us, I wasn’t one who liked to play it safe. So, if the dynamite wanted to blow, then boom, mother fucker.

Did you suddenly forget about last time?

Fuck last time, I growled internally to that inner annoying voice. This is different, and I know what I’m getting myself into.

I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, trying to forget about my past and focus only on the here and now. To focus on Foster, and that he had willingly come home with me despite being new to all of this. When I paused at the door to unlock it, I could feel the heat of his body radiating off him, as well as the apprehension. I wasn’t sure what he expected to happen tonight, and honestly, I was playing it by ear. But I knew I needed to practice self-control and patience when it came to Foster.

“Make yourself at home,” I told him as I pushed open the door, flipped on the hallway light, and stood to the side so he could enter.

“Nice place,” he said as he eyed the high ceilings and hardwood flooring.

“It’s a place to rest my head. Living room is through there,” I told him and gestured toward an entrance off to the right. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Soda?”

“Have anything hard?”

The way his cheeks reddened told me he realized his slip as soon as he said it, and while it was on the tip of my tongue to remind him the only hard thing he needed was in my pants, I kept it to myself.

“In need of some liquid courage?” I asked.

“Something like that.”

“Let me see what I can find. Go have a seat.” While I wanted him to have a clear head while we did whatever it was we’d wind up doing, I could understand his need for a bit of alcohol. At least he’d admitted his nerves, and maybe a shot of something would help loosen him up a bit.

I didn’t keep much alcohol in my house, but I remembered Baylor had left a bottle of scotch after we celebrated scoring the gig at Clancy’s. It’d been a big deal for us as a band since we knew how popular the bar was and how particular the owner was over who played