Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,53

then then took a few minutes to stare at my reflection.

Maverick was right; I wasn’t on my A-game tonight. My mind wasn’t at the bar or even on the music I was playing. Since we’d played the songs so many times, I was playing from muscle memory without any emotion behind it. My mind had drifted elsewhere, to the bedroom of my sexy bartender. I was remembering the gasps and moans I pulled from him every time I placed my lips on his heated skin. And the way his essence exploded on my tongue when I took him into my mouth.

Without even being present at the bar, Foster had become my ultimate distraction, and I needed to get it together. Even though I’d rather be in his bed, bringing him to release, than on the stage playing my saxophone, I had to remind myself that this was my job. He was at work—same as me—so I needed to shake off whatever this was and play my ass off.

By the time I finally emerged from the bathroom, I had my game face on and was ready to tackle the next set. Maverick was still seated on the stool as he chatted with the bartender, and Baylor and Weston sat at different tables talking to some patrons. I looked at my phone and saw I still had a few minutes left before our break was over, so after finding an empty seat close to the stage, I opened up my phone to keep myself busy and hopefully keep anyone away who thought they could approach me.

I checked my messages to see if I had any from Foster, and I wasn’t surprised to see the last message was me telling him to have a good night at work. Clancy’s was a busy place, no matter what day of the week it was, and he probably hadn’t had a chance to take a break yet. Not able to help myself, I quickly composed a message and sent it right as the alarm went off, letting me know my break was up. When he finally had a chance to take a breather, he’d hopefully see my text and think about me, and how hard I made him come, the rest of the night. That is, if he wasn’t already. Because something told me that as much as I had him on my mind, I was on his, as well.

Me: Too bad it’s not you I’m blowing instead of my sax.

“Ready?” Maverick asked when I approached the stage.

“Yup. Let’s do it.”

This set included my big solo, the one that made everyone stop what they were doing and just watch me play. And after Maverick showed his skills on the piano while Baylor and Weston backed him up with the bass and drums, it was my time to shine. I played my instrument like my fingers were pressing into Foster’s skin rather than the keys, and as I closed my eyes to let myself get lost in the music, I was transported back to his bedroom. As I blew into the sax, it wasn’t a reed in my mouth, but his cock. The climax of the song was replaced with Foster’s breathy moans, and as I blew out the last note and held it, I could almost taste his cum on my tongue.

By the time I ended the last note, my skin was soaked with sweat, my body thrumming with adrenaline, and I was grateful for the low lighting and sax that hid the obvious bulge in my pants. The applause that broke out was thunderous, even for the small crowd, and I could feel the eyes of the band on me. Baylor and Weston had wide smiles on their faces, but when I looked at Maverick, all I could see were questions in his eyes. I just hoped he respected my boundaries and didn’t ask because I wasn’t entirely sure of the answers.

Yes, I’d claimed Foster as mine, and he’d agreed to it, but was that because of the heat of the moment? He and I were too distracted by other things to have a full discussion about it, and I couldn’t help but think that we were both trying to avoid it. Without the adrenaline of me staking my claim to Blaine and the intense kisses offering the perfect distraction, we’d be forced to come to a decision. And while I knew what I wanted, I couldn’t say the same for Foster.

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